Relieved at the chance for a bite of food and a few minutes to rest, Garinor dashed right up to the door and knocked heartily.
“Oswande! Open up, will you?” He knocked again.
A slow scuffling sound escaped from inside and then the latch on the inner door was pulled. At last, the door creaked open.
A wizened old man stood there, wrapped in a large frilly blanket, his beard loaded with crumbs of food and twisted as if it had been years since its last cleaning.
“Oswande, you old duffer, let me in!”
The old man squinted his aged eyes and then cracked a toothy smile. “Me boy, me boy, you come and visit me again today.” He swaggered as he tried to take a step back and let Garinor in. Casting one glance over his shoulder to make sure no one was around, Garinor entered the small home.
It appeared as it always did. In one corner was a straw bed with three blankets and a potato sack pillow. To one side was the kitchen area where the old man kept herbs and some fruit. A sealed box was nearby, holding what Garinor knew to be cured meat, kept from the touch of air until Oswande needed it. A basin of water sat on a countertop with a small wood cup nearby for drinking. In the center of the room were a round wooden table and three chairs, one of which had tumbled to the floor when the old man had gotten up.
Garinor righted the chair and helped himself to a cup of water. He had visited the old codger many times and he felt rather comfortable there. He also knew he would meet the nasty crack of a cane on his knuckles if he dared offer Oswande help getting around his own home. He’d learned that lesson the hard way.
Finding himself a red apple and sinking his teeth into it, Garinor judged he had given Oswande enough time to seat himself, then turned around to join him as if he had been warmly invited. He gazed at the crinkled face of the old-timer and felt calm for the first time all day.
“Good of you to see me again,” croaked Oswande.
Garinor laughed. “You knew I’d be back. You always have the best apples.” He emphasized this by taking another hearty bite.
The man grinned. “Ah yes, you do love my apples. But if you keep coming so often like this there won’t even be any left for me.”
He froze. “What do you mean?”
“Why, don’t be silly, young one,” Oswande tittered. “Did you think I wouldn’t notice you were here not an hour ago for them too?” He shook his gnarled finger at Garinor scoldingly. “You must think I’m a doddering fool if I can’t keep track of time in a single day.”
“An hour—oh no!” His eyes opened wide. “I have to go!”
“What dreadful manners all of a sudden,” Oswande groaned. “Sit yourself down and finish your apple.”
“You don’t understand,” his voice sounded panicked. “It wasn’t me earlier today, Oswande. It was someone else looking for me.”
The old man’s eyes narrowed angrily. “Now see here! I am not a blind beggar who can’t—”
But whatever he was about to say, he didn’t finish. The cabin door burst open and there stood a man in leather armor. He brandished his long sword and leaped for Garinor. The young man threw the remains of his apple into the attacker’s face, but missed. He dropped to the ground and scurried under the small table, hoping to sneak around the brute without getting Oswande caught up in the fray.
On hands and knees, he couldn’t possibly hope to escape the swordsman. The blade slashed downward and cleaved the table in two, bashing against Garinor’s back. He scrambled faster toward the door, hoping desperately to be free.
The swordsman’s weapon had slipped from his hand upon crushing the table, but he didn’t waste any time retrieving it. The warrior turned and dropped his full body down on top of Garinor, pinning him painfully. Strong hands reached around and covered his mouth and nose.
Garinor didn’t have a chance. The man was much too heavy and Oswande didn’t seem to have registered what was going on. Garinor scolded himself for being foolish. Of course the road hadn’t been the only avenue being watched by the hunters. How could he have not thought of that before?
The last thing Garinor heard as his lungs ached for air was Oswande all aflutter, calling out, “Boys, boys, there’s enough apples for everyone!”