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(Page 2 of 12) Seven Dark Travellers 1 by Stephen Palmer
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"Anybody alive in there? Can yer see light, eh?"
Something moved, and Jaav saw an arm. He pushed aside more blocks to reveal the head and chest of a boy, no more than ten, though he was dressed in town guard uniform.
"Where's yer father?" Jaav said, as he pulled away the rubble. "Whatcher doin' 'ere?"
"My daddy... where is he?"
Jaav realised this must be the son of a town guardsman, a man likely now to be dead in the street below. With a final effort he pushed aside stone blocks until the boy was able to wriggle out. His breeches were soaked in blood.
"You got a nasty gash there my lad," said Jaav, as arm in arm the pair stumbled down the rubble. In the street, the boy cried out and fell to the ground. Jaav climbed up to retrieve his packs, returned to the street, then located a length of cloth, which he tore into strips and tied together. From a backpack pocket he pulled out a pouch of dried herbs.
"I always carry these," he said. "What's yer name, lad?"
"Oynstarn."
"Yer father may be 'ereabouts, or 'e may not be. So I'm gonna bind yer leg, alright? It's gonna 'urt, though."
Without delay Jaav ripped away Oynstarn's breeches, revealing a gash from thigh to knee. Blood oozed out. Jaav saw that the boy had already lost much blood, so he cleaned the wound with rain water, laid herbs over the gash, then wrapped the thigh in the improvised bandage. Oynstarn fainted. Jaav cursed, but he tied the knots tight. When he was done he took a leather bottle from his backpack and tipped it into Oynstarn's mouth. Spluttering, the boy regained consciousness.
"I gotta leave yer now," he said. "You'll be alright, yeah? Stay 'ere 'til someone comes. The locals will be out already, lookin' for survivors."
"No! Don't leave me mister, please."
Jaav shook his head. "Sorry lad, I got somebody to meet. I weren't expectin' this. But yer gonna be fine-"
"No!"
Jaav took a step back. A whine came from the rucksack on the ground at his side. Glancing at his backpack he noticed the sigil of wood hanging on a chain from one of the outer pockets, so he unhooked it and presented it to Oynstarn.
"See this?" he said. "I used to be a miner, back 'ome in Veelsavian."
"I thought you were foreign. You've got a funny accent."
Jaav nodded.
"Did you dig for shadow diamonds?"
"Aye. 'S'pretty much all anybody mines back there. But anyway, this sigil is for protection, see, all miners carry 'em." Jaav handed it over. "You keep this safe. You'll be alright, Oynstarn."
"Thank you, mister."
Jaav got to his feet, pulled on his backpack, then reattached the rucksack to his front. "Y'know," he said, "there is one way you could 'elp me. D'you know where the Bloody 'Ound Tavern is? My guide... y'see, 'e got 'it, like you did."
Oynstarn pointed down the street, away from the ruins of the town gate. "It's the first right," he said, "into Damp Alley. Just go along about a hundred yards, then you'll see it on the right."
"Thanks, lad."
Jaav strode away without looking back. Now the shock had passed, he was shaking. And he was thinking.
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