Return of the Stormcriers

CHAPTER 32 - WEEP FOR YOUR KING

The sun had just begun it's fiery descent from the sky when Prince Nathan and his guards reached the small settlement of Highmill. What would have been a single day journey from the capital if they had followed the Imperial Road, had taken them nearly a full four days due to the evasive route they had taken, doubling back over their own tracks several times a day to render it nearly impossible for them to be traced. When smoke from the chimneys of Highmill began to rise into the air before the, heralding their arrival, Gattis shed his large heavy cloak, passing it to Nathan and instructing him to pull the oversized hood over his head to keep his face concealed for the duration of their time in town. The night before they had decided that their cover, if asked, would be that Nathan and Gattis were traveling merchants on business, with Jahn and Paul serving as their hired guards. They had carefully smeared mud over any piece of armor with the royal crest imprinted upon it to keep any curious minds from wondering why a common merchant would be traveling with royal guardsmen.

Like most villages and settlements of this size, Highmill was much too small to have a fortified protective wall wrapped around its outskirts like the one Nathan had grown up seeing around Stormcliff. The lack of a physical barrier, man made or environmental, rendered it child's play to slip onto the sparsely occupied streets without being seen by the local people. They walked quickly, following Captain Gattis' lead as he was the only one among the four of them that had been to the town before. The streets were unplanned, with wooden houses and shops of various sizes springing up randomly along the winding dirt roads that branched away from the very well maintained, cobblestone Imperial Road than ran through the center of the town, but it was a small enough enclave that it did not feel messy or cluttered. Residents called to each other familiarly as they made their way through the town, greeting friends and acquaintances as they attempted to wrap up their days before nightfall. That was the problem with trying to pass through such a small town unseen, Nathan thought to himself, everyone knew everyone. While it had been easy to sneak into town it was almost impossible to avoid scrutiny. The population of Highmill could fit into Stormcliff one thousand fold he thought as they walked.

   The streets grew slightly more crowded the closer they got to the center of Highmill where more businesses were located, as the first stop out of Stormcliff, or the final stop before reaching it, the storekeepers and tavern owners made much of their annual income off of travelers. Being used to many strangers passing through the town on a regular basis, the population would not view Nathan and his companions with immediate distrust, their appearance would attract prospective sellers to them like seabirds upon picnickers. Nathan pulled his cloak tighter around himself, attempting to keep his face wholly in the shadows. His overly bundled appearance drew several curious glances from the crowd, but rumors of a strange man in Highmill would spread much slower than than word of a missing prince; he could accept being viewed as weird. He followed close to Gattis' heels, with John and Paul pressed tight on either side of him to offer protection from any sudden attack.

  "Walk a few paces farther apart from me," he hissed at the two flanking soldiers. "We will draw more attention if we travel in too tight of a formation." Jahn and Paul separated slightly, but were unwilling to leave much room at all between them and their prince.

The inn Gattis lead them to was a two story, sloped roof affair that sat roughly halfway down the main street of Highmill. The building sat at a slight angle, with the second story not quite lined up with the floor below as if a giant had given it a slight push. The greying aged wood that made up the exterior of the building gave some comfort that despite the shoddy craftsmanship it had survived in its current state for at least a few decades if not longer. A polished wooden sign dangled out over the street, noticeably cleaner and fresher than the rest of the establishment proudly proclaiming the ambitious name The Imperial Inn, in expensive golden filigree.