Garinor decided again that he would rather face his trials alone. From leaving his friends behind, to walking out of Erina’s, he opted now to continue the pattern. Though Merlumo seemed to have good intentions, he felt better not risking anyone else’s neck for his own safety. He remembered all too well the look of pain emblazoned on the guard’s face at the start of his journey.
Garinor pushed himself upright and gasped against the pain in his chest. He waited and breathed slowly and deeply for a few minutes before rising completely. This wasn’t going to be easy, but he was determined.
He gently touched his hand to his chest and applied a small amount of pressure until he felt the searing agony that marked the damaged ribs on his right side. He thought it curious, then, that if Merlumo had been familiar with that type of injury, why had he set Garinor to sleep on his right side? He figured it must have something to do with better breathing, since he had felt particularly strong about that.
Letting his mind drift along these lines, Garinor absently grabbed some food for the road and tucked it into a pouch he found. Then, with a last look around, he set off.
The door to the house was a heavy oak door set on well-oiled hinges. It swung open easily at his touch. The sky was bright and people milled about on their daily business. He walked into the dirt road and judged his direction with a quick glance at the sky. His goal was still to head north and seek the king. He needed answers for all that had been happening to him.
Walking was a challenge, but he found that if he breathed steadily and kept his stomach muscles slightly tense, then he could manage well enough. As long as he wasn’t jostled or forced to run, he would be able to travel a while.
The town felt unremarkable and he didn’t know if that was the nature of the town or the fact that his focus was entirely on putting one foot in front of the other. He passed a few common shops, such as that of a seamstress or a blacksmith, but he didn’t feel like this place had any actual character.
There were a few townsmen on patrol, however, so he wondered if this was an unsafe place to be. They walked in pairs and barely spoke to each other except to point at a passerby and comment. Garinor kept his gaze unfocused, which wasn’t hard considering the pain he was in. He went practically unnoticed.
Down the road there was an old woman sweeping her front steps, which seemed an odd thing to do when the steps led right to a dusty path. He didn’t look at her for more than a moment, but she glued her eyes on him. Taking a few brisk steps forward, she swung out her broom and cracked Garinor on the shins.
He crumpled to the ground, but more so because of the gasp of air he had taken. His face was creased in a snarl as he looked up at her.
“Fool, boy,” she hissed. “One tries to help you and you throw it away. You don’t even realize the danger you’re in. Get up now and get inside.” She brandished the broom before her, leaving him with no doubt that she would pummel him with it if he gave her reason to.
Crawling to the steps and pulling himself up, Garinor struggled into her home. Like Merlumo’s, it was mostly made of stone, with wood highlights here and there. Grabbing a seat and sinking into it, Garinor waited while his host fussed over him. She grabbed his face, squeezing his cheeks together and turning his head so she could peer into his eyes one at a time. She forced his mouth open and peered inside, though he couldn’t imagine what for. Her last act was to release her hold on him and pull back, then to reach out and slap him.
“Idiot,” she muttered while Garinor rubbed his cheek. “Your life is in danger. Don’t you know that?”
“That’s why… I had to… go.”
She growled at him and went into her kitchen to retrieve a handful of herbs. “I gave this recipe to Merlumo a while ago. I would guess he gave you some. More will do you good.” She boiled a pot of water and crumpled the leaves into it, stirring with her finger, all the while muttering under her breath about his supreme stupidity.
She returned at last and he drank the tea determinedly. It was hard to concentrate on swallowing because of how she leered over him, ensuring he didn’t lose a single drop of it. Then at last she sank down into her chair and heaved a great sigh.
“You gave me such a fright, boy,” she admitted. “Seeing you on the road like that, right under the eyes of the others. It’s a wonder they didn’t nab you straight away.” Then her voice hardened, “I guess you play the part of fool naturally.”
He dared to stare back at her penetrating gaze, but there was concern in her eyes that he couldn’t ignore. “I’m sorry.”
She waved her hands at him. “Oh, bah! The young are always full of apologies after they mess something up.”
Not sure why someone would apologize before making a mistake, Garinor decided to change the subject. “You said they walked right past me. Did you mean the watchmen?”
“Yes, who else?” She shook her head and breathed another sigh. Garinor could smell her breath from where he was sitting. His nose crinkled.
The old woman rapped her knuckles on the table. “Okay, fool, then listen. There is an old prophecy that was set about a hundred years ago. Few around these parts even know of that, but someone does. And that someone is doing everything possible to put a stop to it happening.”
Garinor wasn’t feeling any pain at that moment, he was focused on her so intently. “What does the prophecy say?”
“I wish I had the whole of it,” she said wistfully. “But I know there are three key players and one of them is a prince. And there is the likelihood that you are one of the other two.”
“Likelihood?”
“Well, until a prophecy comes together, no one can be certain, now can they? But you were, shall we say, in the right place at the right time.”
“How do you know all this?”
“How does anyone know anything? They listen, they learn.” She slammed her hand on the table. “Don’t you realize that what I’m telling you is more important than how I came to know it? Or is that tale something you would rather hear?”
“I—”
“Oh, be quiet,” she hissed. “For someone linked to these events, you sure do have rocks in your head.” Her penetrating eyes held him silent. “That’s better. To the northwest there is a small village known as Fellanin. A soothsayer lives there and she knows more about these things than I do. She is also my sister, so that would answer your question about how I came to know. Merlumo is planning to take you there. Yet you might not be able to go now if the watchers spot you on your way back to his place.”
A heavy weight sank on his shoulders. He was making things more difficult by his rash actions. If he was spotted entering Merlumo’s house, then not only would his life be forfeit, but they would undoubtedly turn on Merlumo himself. Merlumo, who had been trying to help him.
The name Fellanin rang in Garinor’s ears, as well, for Erina had also told him to head there. It seemed several people were connected, or knew the place was sort of a safe haven for those in need.
At last the woman broke the silence again by standing. “Nothing will be accomplished staring at each other. Will you now sit idle as you’re told?”
He nodded his head and said nothing.
“Good then. Here, throw this over your shoulders.” She tossed him her dusty shawl, which felt more like a small blanket. Then she held out the broom handle to him. “You will go to Merlumo’s as me, then. Hunch over a bit, be a little cranky, and swipe away a patch of dirt here and there as if it insulted you.” She made a strange grunting sound and Garinor realized she was laughing. “I will work out reclaiming the broom after you’ve gone. But you must not leave that place again without Merlumo. You’re not likely to survive a second time.”
“I understand.”
“Ah, the first sensible thing you’ve said. And be good to Merlumo. He is the only son I have left.”
Garinor looked up at this but was met with her cold stare again. He pulled the shawl around him and hunched over, which hurt his chest, and then grasped the broom in the same angry manner she had done outside. She grunted her approval and patted his shoulder once for luck.
Hobbling back to Merlumo’s wasn’t easy. Now he looked enough like the cranky woman that people tried having their usual interactions with her. But Garinor batted them away with the broom, always keeping his head low and muttering loudly. The disguise suited his mood, anyway. Aside from a few awkward moments, he made it back to Merlumo’s to wait and recover.