Garinor considered the offers on the table and decided he didn’t want to remain in one place for too long. He also wondered if he might indeed receive word from someone that the villagers of Arvion had escaped the fire.
“Thank you,” he said, “I think I’ll go to Teltiar.”
“Very well,” said Malikar. “We’ll leave in about an hour.”
After that, the wife let out the three dogs, who went and corralled the cows into a fenced-in area to the side of the house. She helped him prepare two travel packs and then asked if he was ready to ride.
“Ride?” Garinor asked.
“Yes, of course. You’ll be taking the horses.” She looked at him. “You’ve ridden a horse before, haven’t you?”
He shrugged. He didn’t think his experience of riding the horse behind the guard who had taken him from his home counted as riding a horse.
“Not to worry,” she said. “It’s a short journey and Malikar will certainly help if you struggle along the way.”
The hour passed swiftly and Garinor was sad to say goodbye to Herria and the farm. It was such a peaceful oasis.
The journey to Teltiar was not as bad as Garinor feared. He was able to sit well on the horse once Malikar helped him into position. A quick explanation of what to do with the reins allowed Garinor to feel like he was in charge, though he doubted the beast underneath him would listen to a boy at all. The farmer rode close by and was ready to reach out for Garinor’s reins in the event of trouble.
They trotted down a small hill and sprawling wheat fields came into view. There were tall stalks everywhere Garinor looked, marred only by the road on which they traveled. As they went, he could see other paths slinking off to one side or other, but they kept to the main road at all times.
They didn’t push the horses hard, but they traveled much faster than if Garinor had been on foot. The trip took about three hours altogether, but mostly because of the slow pace and several stops they made along the way so Malikar could scrounge up a few sample stalks of wheat. Garinor wondered what the farmer was going to do with it all, but he didn’t bother asking. It was the man’s business. He was probably trying to size up the competition or something.
As the sun crested the sky and started drifting toward the horizon, the town of Teltiar came into view. When he saw it, Garinor could only describe it as a ramshackle town pretending to be a grand paradise. The shacks were all dilapidated, but various dyes had been splattered along the wood, giving each one a unique color. It was rather garish to view all at once. It was a larger and busier town than his home of Paligar, but he felt his home was more put-together.
Crowds thronged the street as they entered the town. The villagers stayed to either side of the paths in order to allow the horses through. Most of it all blurred to Garinor though, for his thoughts drifted now to what he would have to do next. His goal of heading to the castle seemed easy enough to him, but he wasn’t sure how he was going to actually manage it. He didn’t know who would be willing to help him on his way.
Eventually, Malikar stopped his horse and urged Garinor to do the same. “Listen, boy, it’s time now for us to be on our way. I didn’t realize the sun had gone so low and I need to head back to my farm.”
They said goodbye and Garinor thanked him several times for all the kindness he had been shown. The boy then faced the town with a renewed sense of importance. He no longer had a guide or a horse, so he pulled himself together and strode forth with purpose.
Luckily, finding food wasn’t a concern for him since Herria had insisted he take a pack with him. Still, he wanted to save that until he really needed it. So he went around Teltiar, trying to get a sense of things.
The town had a rather dismal feel to it and Garinor kept looking over his shoulder, wondering if someone was sneaking up on him. It wasn’t long before he was a jumble of nerves, twitching with random sounds around him. He needed to get off the streets.