Page 3 - Tristor at last!

Just two hours after dawn this morning we had two of Gaeren’s cattle hitched into the traces of his wagon and headed off from the farm towards Tristor, which he assured us was barely two hours ride away. The journey was uneventful and Gaeren, ever the kind gentleman offered to let me ride in the wagon with Byron. We talked a little and she told me more of the family she had lost in the raid... She is a strange creature and I fear is still badly affected by the sad and senseless deaths of her family. I hope that her uncle in Tristor is kind to her...

 

Tristor at last came into view, it had taken longer than we’d anticipated as the cattle, unused to the traces and hauling a wagon, were difficult for poor Gaeren to handle a few times I helped him to coax the beasts onward.  As the road wound down the hill towards the town's palisade and wooden gate house I was struck by a solitary Oak tree that stood just off the way... There was nothing else  of any size as far as trees go nearby so I wandered over to investigate. It was indeed a strange tree, at the foot of it was a small posy of flowers bound with string... the flowers were long past their best but just above them on the trunk of the tree were carved the words ‘Death for Death’ and above on a high overhanging limb was an old scar, a terrible though now healed wound... This tree had been used as a scaffold, a sad abuse of this grandfather of the forest.

 

Returning to the wagons I told Bohun and Brother James about what I had seen and asked our good friend Gaeren about it. He was all set to reply when the town gates opened wide and within stood a posse of guardsmen, all clad in dark mail and a man on a horse dragging two large dead animals behind him. The man was clearly deranged as he was waving a loaded crossbow about like a Morris dancer’s hankie! He was babbling about being the town hunter and that we should stand aside...  In the end we did just that... you just cannot reason with someone who is touched by the malady of madness.

 

After the crazy hunter had gone on his way we made our way into the town through the open gates. Many whitewashed thatched houses, a wooden temple that I assumed was dedicated to Pholtus and a lovely Inn called The Sogenford Inn filled the inside of the wooden wall along with a slow moving, sun dappled stream. Gaeren directed us to the inn in spite of my protest that we should drop Byron off with her family first saying that we should eat and rest after our journey. I suspect the poor fellow was tired from his hours watching over us the night before, he really is not a spring green anymore!

As we approached the Inn we passed a garrison building where a warrior was training a bunch of new recruits. Old Bohun looked interested briefly before his lips curled sourly and he looked away again... such interesting people I am coming to know on my adventure.