A Promise of Iron Brandon McCoy (howl and other poems TXT) 📖

I laughed. “You’re as bad as Crylwin!”

She wiggled her fingers. “Who do you think he learned it from?”

Reluctantly desperate, I took the purse and placed it in my satchel. “I will pay you back,” I said with a farewell hug.

“I expect you will. A Ruk can’t stand being in anyone’s debt; I remember one time when my Ellon—” She stopped abruptly, obviously catching herself before she began what would be a lengthy story. “I know you need to go dear, don’t stand here listening to me prattle on, go.”

I nodded and headed to collect Steven, who was wandering off the path. I caught up to him after a short chase and put my sandal in the stirrup once more. I heaved my leg over and turned him back on to the path.

“My aren’t you handsome up there. Make sure you give that girl of yours a proper hug from your ole Ama now!” she called out.

I turned back and saw Jaeron emerge with a bag in hand and a solemn look on his face. I watched as Kerry pointed to a patch of flowers near the outer wall. Jaeron handed her the bag and bolted off. I gave a wave then turned Steven towards the gatehouse.

I let Steven walk until we cleared the gate. It gave him a chance to rest and me the opportunity to count out the coin. In the bag were seven gold crowns, five nobles, and about a dozen or more copper pennies. Ama had given me a considerable sum, but I was still more than an iron short.

I had a backup plan of sorts, one I was reluctant to exercise. Being in debt to someone willing to write a loan to a half-Ruk bastard carried unique hazards outside of the exorbitant interest. I knew a few names, but also knew getting an audience on short notice would be tricky. I urged Steven to speed as I crossed the gate. He didn’t hesitate. I dared a look back at the massive plume of dust that trailed us. It was everything I could do to remain in the seat.

We passed the large granary once more. This time I saw the tired faces of resting Ruks watching from beneath the shade of an old willow. I braved a wave to them, which was as ill-advised riding a half-blind horse at full gallop through uneven terrain. As soon as I took one hand free of the reins, Steven stepped unevenly on a loose patch of ground. The sudden change in direction sent me lurching forward. I tried to grab his neck as I flew, but I did little more than grab a handful of hair on my way to the ground. My eyes closed as I lay prone on my back. I could hear the sound of hoofbeats in the distance growing farther and farther away—that, and a continuing chorus of laughter from the direction of the granary.

Chapter One and Three

Summer 1272, Cyllian Imperial Count

As I lay upon the grass, collecting my wits, it was clear I wouldn’t reach Forhd within my purchased time, let alone in time to secure a loan before the House closed. I stood up gingerly, surveying my surroundings. Steven was long gone. There was no hope of catching him in the open even if he was nearby. I would bet two pennies he was already on his way back to his stable. It occurred to me then that the boy had executed the perfect con. It was either that or I should be more prudent in observing the omens.

I looked back towards the granary where the Cyllian boss had his Ruks back to work. I could still feel their stares. I dusted myself off, gathered my satchel, and picked up my feet.

I was no stranger to cross country, but I covered only a mile or so before one of my sandals broke. I ran barefoot another mile after that until I stepped on a sharp rock sinisterly hidden in a clump of tall grass. I shouted and kicked and cursed, then when clarity broke through the pain, I tore a strip of cloth from my bathing towel and wrapped it around my bleeding foot.

There was no hope of a loan now, not before sundown. I considered my options. I had tools, saw blades, and other oddments at the shop I could sell. If I sold everything, I might hope to see close to enough, but not within the few hours before sundown. Absent a miracle, I had only one option left. My head hung low as I walked, Ada Cole’s words echoing clearly in my mind. I limped the remaining miles in silence. I knew what I had to do.

As Forhd came into view, I picked up my pace, forcing through the pain to mask my limp and preserve what little dignity remained. The main gate to Forhd was still open as I arrived, but there was little traffic and no line to speak of. They allowed me to enter after answering a few questions, mostly regarding my mountlessness and the questionable return of a riderless black Roharan.

I passed by the corral and found Steven prancing around the perimeter. An idea circled- one born of desperation. Maybe, just maybe, I could stay my execution. A few nobles would help close the gap, at least, then a run to Turns, Rohger might spot me a few. Then, my vendors I could take a loan on credit with them. I was so close it was worth a roll.

I stormed into the office. “I want my coin back, you little fucker!” I shouted. The boy was not there, but the quickly closing half door at the back pointed me in his direction. I followed, kicking the door with my good foot and breaking it off its stone hinges.

“Easy there, mister,” the boy said, turning to face me. He held a bag of oats in one hand, an earned reward for his coconspirator, no