Berserker Part 32

The guards hadn’t kept the caravan waiting in as soon as it was established that there would be burning, pillaging, or raping. Probably nothing to steal around here anyway, Tyrel thought sadly. While most people were staring blankly, sleepily, or stupidly, the captain of the guard looked disturbingly intelligent at them. As if he was mentally taking down everything to the smallest detail. I’ll have to watch that one.

Moving past various storage bins, grain silos, meat lockers, and warehouses, it struck Tyrel as being strangely quiet, the shock affect of their arrival should’ve worn off by now, giving way to hushed murmuring and flying rumors as to the newcomers’ identities, purpose, eligibility, and financial status. But no, just silence, like the desperate quiet of a mouse as the predatorial shadow of an owl swoops by.

Suddenly he realized it, all eyes were locked on the gnoll. Tyrel wasn’t normally someone to laugh at something that didn’t end up with a person be hung upside and horsewhipped, but the peoples’ looks of horror at the little gnoll on his leash had him splitting his sides. It was hardly larger than the dogs on the street barking at them as they worked their way through the gate, but they acted as if it were evil incarnate. Aside from that, it’s “leash” was treated leather suitable for tethering a pair of wild horses.

Their horror was something familiar to him, he had seen it often enough on the faces of those not willing to be parted with any trinkets or spare coins they could’ve lived without. but recently he had seen it on the young but haggard features of that boy, Jarn. They hadn’t talked much during their traveling, but the boy didn’t seem to enjoy talking and Tyrel didn’t care enough to pursue it. But it was worrying, ever since that gnoll started its gibbering, Jarn had been in a black mood. Not even the amusing scenery they were traversing could pull him out of it.

They had passed the industrial district, giving way to countless houses, all with the same whitewash finish, gardens, yards, and above all, boring atmosphere. If I fell asleep here I wouldn’t wake up, there is no reason to. The thought of sleep brought him back his injured charge, Seryan, lying near death in the supply wagon. They must find an apothecary, quickly.