part 5

The only tavern in Graystown had no name, just a faded sign with a picture of a mug of ale. Although it was not even dusk yet shouting and laughter spilled out of its main room, over filled with the somewhat hysteric joy of townspeople that not even an hour before had been certain of their impending death. Although they had not really achieved much, those that had ventured out of the gates to fight the bandits were being treated as heroes and some already lay passed out across the tables after one too many victory drinks.

At the center of the room Ares sat a table with the townspeople crowded around him, but not sitting with him. Although he had saved their town and they were grateful, most were also too afraid to go near him or thought him far above simple people like themselves. The table itself was covered in dishes that had been devoured to the last crumb and although he did not eat ravenously, Ares ate at a steady pace without stopping and was already on his 5^th order.

Only Jordan, the mayor slash blacksmith and the old trader Faral sat at the table with Ares and even they were rather hesitant about being there. For Jordan, this young knight that he had originally tried to protect from the bandits turned out to be more powerful than he could have imagined. Simple folk like him were not meant to associate with such great men. However, he also felt it would be rude to leave Ares alone at the table where he was absorbed in eating all the food in Graystown, so he sat and fended off some of the more direct townsfolk.

Faral watched Ares bemusedly and was still trying to come to terms with the entire situation. He had actually known Ares for near his entire life since he had been travelling down to the village by where they lived for near 30 years. He knew Taras was a soldier from far north, anyone could tell just from his accent, and that he had been training Ares. He had had no idea how powerful of a warrior either had been though and had never actually seen them fight. He had been terrified when Ares took off on his own, not wanting to have to tell Taras he had let his grandson get himself killed and when he had seen the monster Ares went to fight he had been near to having a heart attack.

A young wild blood barmaid came over to Ares as he finished off his 6^th order. For a wild blood she was rare, looking completely human except for long rabbit ears that stuck up from her hair. She was rather timid and had looked terrified to approach Ares at first but after serving him a ridiculous amount of food and drink her expression had changed to annoyed, rather than afraid.

“Sir knight…will you be wanting another plate?” She asked exasperatedly.

“Hmm?” Ares responded languidly and raised his arms, stretching. He turned to look at the girl and grinned, satisfied with his meal. “Oh, no thank you, that was plenty, and delicious.” The girl blushed brightly as he smiled up at her, even her ears going pink.

 “A..as y..you wish, my lord!” She stammered hurriedly and fled as Ares watched bemused for a moment, then turned to Jordan, putting the strange behavior of the girl out of his mind. He had found the behavior of most people in Graystown to be quite strange.

“Thanks for the meal Mr. Mayor.” He said and looked around at the suddenly quite room. The towns people had grown quite boisterous while Ares ate, but at his sudden words all conversation in the room halted.

“It was the least we could do Sir Knight” Jordan said nervously. “Um, is there anything else we can do for you?” Jordan looked out over the crowd desperately, hoping someone would throw out an idea. While he was grateful to the boy for defeating the bandits, he was feeling rather on edge with so powerful a warrior in their town. It was not comforting knowing someone could destroy your town and everything in it and there was nothing you could do to stop it, even if that person did not seem likely to do so.

“A map” Ares said into the silence.

“Excuse me?”

“I need a map” Ares explained patiently. “I am travelling to Ranthanon I think and I don’t know anything about how to get there except, ‘go north’. So if you have a map it would be very helpful.”

Jordan blinked in confusion and then asked. “Why…why are you going to Ranthanon?”

“To duel of course! All the best knights can be found in Ranthanon ” Ares spoke confidently. All the stories grandfather had told him said the best knights went to Ranthanon eventually because that was where the High Church of Dion was and since the knights served Dion, they must go there. Ares was not certain but the logic seemed sound enough to him.

“Ah…I…I see” Jordan wasn’t even sure where Ranthanon was, besides north, either. He knew it was where the high priest of Dion lived, but that was about it. The church of dion did not have much influence this far south and even though they claimed all humans were the subject of Dion, most people did not think too much about the Dionites this far south, there were other, more influential religions to be concerned with. “I will see what I can do. I doubt we have a map that shows all the way to Ranthanon, but knowing the roads and kingdoms to the north should help you out.”

The rest of his stay in Graystown was uneventful. Ares finally asked Faral why the townspeople acted so strange around him, calling him my lord, averting their eyes and whispering amongst themselves. He was startled and a little hurt when Faral told him that the townspeople were afraid of him. He protested that he would never kill a bunch of townspeople but Faral told him it didn’t really matter and that the people knew that, they were simply afraid of power. Ares was not really the type to dwell on things and decided not to worry about it if he could not change their minds. Still he thought, he might try to be less conspicuous in the next town he visited since having everyone afraid of him was pretty annoying.

When Jordan returned some time later with a map the revelers in the tavern had mostly dispersed. Ares had passed the time asking Faral questions about towns and then announced to the old trader that they would be parting here. Ares did not want to hurt Farals feelings and was grateful for his help but he thought he might die of old age before getting to Ranthanon at the pace those two old mules set. Faral however, tried hard to hide his relief and assured Ares that he was not upset and thought it was best for young knights to make their own way in the world without old men like him tagging along.

The map Jordan placed on the table was old and worn and almost certainly out of date. At the top of the map was the bottom half of a large body of water with several countries outlined in black in below it, stretching to the bottom of the map. Thin lines crisscrossed the map indicating trade routes and rivers.
“Where’s Graystown?” Ares asked, scanning the names of the towns written on the map and unable to find it.

Jordan placed his finger on the table a few inches below the map, “somewhere around here.” He said somewhat sheepishly, as if embarrassed his town was not even on the map.

“So then where is Ranthanon?”

Jordan looked embarrassed again, “Well, Ranthanon is somewhere north of that lake. I’m not really sure what it’s called and I don’t know anyone who has travelled that far. You should go to Palidor first I think. That is the biggest city I know of within a few weeks travel. They should have better maps there.”

Ares found Palidor on the map. “Okay, that makes sense. Thank you Mr. Mayor!” Ares said enthusiastically and then jumped up. “Well, I’ll be off then!” He grinned excitedly and turned to go.

“what!?” “Wait!” Faral and Jordan cried simultaneously. Jordan continued hurriedly, talking over the older man. “You’re leaving already? I can get you travel supplies, or a horse, or…”

“Nah, I’ll hunt on the way and I don’t even know how to ride a horse.” Ares answered negligently and headed out the door, leaving the two men stunned at his abrupt departure. He did not hurry as he walked, but nor was he slow, walking directly to the north gate. No one had started to repair the gate yet though much of the wood had been dragged away. Ares passed through the gate without fanfare, the few people around not daring to interrupt him. In silence Ares left Graystown and began his journey north to Palidor. He did not turn to see the many townspeople climbing to the tops of the walls to watch the strange boy who had saved them, leave.

When Ares got to Maraks corpse he picked up the club that was over a foot taller than him. It took two hands not some much from weight but from bulk. He walked to the edge of the road and leapt into the air and slammed the club handle down into the earth, the handle sank into the hard earthabout a foot, so it stood straight up at the edge of the road. The metal bands that wrapped around the head of the club where rusted and blood encrusted but still reflected the sun enough so that anyone could tell that it was a weapon. Maybe that will discourage other bandits from coming here Ares thought and then continued his walk north.