The caravan left the city after a circuitous route through the streets. It was a necessary path through the town, for the seamstress’s shop was not on the main thoroughfare and therefore wagon and cart traffic was only allowed to progress in one direction. The pace through the city was a determinedly slow one, but they made steady progress until they finally reached the north gate.
The driver offered up his itinerary to the guards as well as the identity of the contents they were carrying and the names of all those present. They admitted to only recently taking Bogren onboard at the whim of the seamstress, but it was common for merchants to send their own watchers on such treks. At last, they were waved through.
The caravan ride was much more pleasant for Garinor than walking, even though he was wearing a ridiculous number of clothes, which made the day seem swelteringly hot. He kept up his antics as Bogren during the ride by overreacting whenever one of them suddenly burst out laughing or made a particularly loud sound. He grunted and pulled at his sword, then simmered himself down under visible control. The silk was safe.
A while later, they crossed a small brook and turned to the east. Bogren was confused at this, for he thought they were heading to the north to Fellanin. He couldn’t find a way to ask without it seeming like he had no idea what was happening. Surely the caravan was going to make more than a single stop along its way.
“Ho!” called the driver, pulling the reins and bringing the horses to a stop. “Fellers, lookie!”
Bogren turned around and peered off into the distance. There was a horse coming fast and a small person was clutching its back desperately. Two other clouds of dust appeared behind it and were giving a frantic chase. As the frontrunner drew closer, they could see it was a boy pressing the horse to run faster.
“Don’ look like the boy got something stolen,” one of the men said.
“Think we oughtta help?” asked another.
The driver groaned. “If’n we get involved it might be bad fer business.”
“That’s just a boy!” cried another. “How awful!”
“Let’s ask that lug head in the back. Think his mistress will hammer him bad if he helps a lad?” The others shrugged and then he turned to Bogren. “Yo, silk man, whaddya think?”