Warlords Rising Read Free Page B

through.
Most of the people here were dark skinned, black hair, black eyes. The three
teens stood out like sore thumbs.
    Trev’nor looked at the other two and asked, “Divide and
conquer? Someone go after dragoos, someone go after food, someone else get
water?”
    Nolan was tilting his head this way and that, almost as if
he were slowly shaking it. “Something’s very wrong in this place. The vibe I
feel is not a good one.”
    When a Life Mage said something like that, a wise person
paid attention. Trev’nor looked around, paying better attention to the people,
and he had to admit that he didn’t like the attention they were getting. He saw
quite a few passerby stop and stare suspiciously before continuing on. These
people were not used to travelers, which was strange, as they were very near
the border. Still, they were fully trained mages, what could possibly pose a
danger to them here?
    Becca rubbed her arms in an uneasy motion, her eyes darting
around. “I don’t like this place. Something stinks, I just can’t put my finger
on what.”
    “In that case, let’s really divide and conquer,” Trev’nor
suggested. “Let’s get what we need and move on quickly.”
    Nolan was slow to approve this plan. “Keep your weapons in
hand and stay alert. I’ll get the dragoos. Becca, water. Trev, food. But
nothing like cheese, it’ll spoil fast here.”
    “Right.” Trev’nor used his nose to figure out where the
local market street was and went that direction. He kept the hat on his head
held low, trying to disguise his hair a little, and put his braid down the back
of his shirt, but it didn’t help that much. He was more tanned than the other
two, spending more of his time out of doors, but he still wasn’t anywhere near
the skin tone of the Khobuntian people.
    Roughly two blocks down, he found the heart of the market.
He started with the first stall, taking a look at what they offered. Most of it
was fresh, which didn’t do him much good, as he needed travel food. Shaking his
head, he went to the next stall, then the next. He tried to keep an eye around
him at all times, but it was hard to do with this many people in such a narrow
space. Eventually he gave up on that idea and just kept a close eye on his
purse and made sure his pack was in front of him all of the time. A pickpocket
wouldn’t find him an easy mark.
    Hmm. This stall sold dried fruit
of different sorts. Now, that would make a good traveling food and it would
give them a welcome break from jerky and bread.
    He paused long enough to dig his purse out of his pack. When
he couldn’t immediately lay hands on it, he became worried and twisted it about
to get a hand more firmly inside. Nope, still no purse. Frowning, he quirked a
mental finger at the ground and created a mini-pedestal to set the bag on so he
could search it easier. It took some rummaging, but he found it at the bottom
of the bag and hauled it out with a victorious “Ha!” With money in hand
(hopefully they accepted foreign currency), he turned back to the stall,
letting the dirt settle back down into the road as he moved. Most Khobuntians
spoke Solian—it was an almost universal trade language north of Hain—so he
cleared his throat and tried that. “ What types of fruits are these? How much
for a bag of each?”
    He never got an answer. In the next second someone grabbed
him roughly by the shoulder and spun him around. Trev’nor didn’t fight it,
instead flowing with it, and hit the person grabbing him with as much force as
he possibly could. His attacker folded over the fist in his gut and went down.
But it wasn’t just one man attacking—it was about six and they were all strong
fighters. Trev’nor dropped his pack, freeing up his arms, and lashed out in
every direction, trying to find himself some breathing room. He couldn’t put up
a wall in this location, too many people crowded around him, he’d hurt someone
by accident if he tried. He twisted about, trying to get a