Taraborn’s fingers twitched on the hilt of the sword strapped to Thunder’s saddle, his eyes scanned the mountains around them, and his ears were pinned back for any sudden noises. The Misty Mountains were dangerous, and he knew it.
They were riding up the pass, almost at the top were there was a layer of snow covering the rocky ground. Luckily for them it wasn’t too deep, but it had still proved a hindrance. Taraborn was expecting goblins or brigands to attack at any moments, to come charging out from behind a rock or from one of the many caves that littered the pass.
The cargo in the back of the cart was his biggest concern. The large amount of stolen gold ever in his mind. It had been a week since he had found out what they were transporting, and he hadn’t thought of a way to approach Edward or his sons about it.
Something moved to their left, and his eyes darted towards the motion, only to watch a deer bounding away. He shook his head in frustration and continued his ceaseless watch.
The day continued, and still nothing had happened, but it couldn’t stop him feeling on edge.
Was Jack looking at him funny? Why was Allyn so quiet, he was normally more talkative? His mind goes through every option, and his fingers tighten around his sword hilt.
“Halt!”
The first foot of his blade is out of its sheath before he recognises the man who had appeared before them. He was one of the men who lived in the Vale on the far side of the mountains and who protected the pass. A few more large axe wielding men appeared as the first one called out. “You must pay the toll if you wish to pass.” Taraborn looks to Edward, who only gestures to Allyn.
The lad rides forward, and hands a bag of coins to the men who count its contents. “You may pass.”
Taraborn nudges Thunder with his heels to get him moving, and feels the eyes of the guards watching him and the cart. He doubted he would ever feel at ease till the damn journey was over.
