A wonderous man, the merchant had called him. From what little Kalo could see from the fringes of the crowd amassed to listen and watch there was not much to recommend him. These dire times had driven many to less than honest ways to eke out a paltry living, Kalo had seen many of them during his travels vagabonds hoping to astound people out of their coin. This one was no different and he was sure that under closer inspection he would be no more than a quick-hand dealing in shadows and confusion.  Other than his penchant for fire displays and vanishing objects but other than those few tricks, Kalo remained unimpressed.

Too busy wondering at the interest everyone could possible have in the man Kalo didn’t notice that the crowd had become eerily quiet. It was Kit’s hard tug to his sleeve that snapped his attention back to his surroundings, only to find that the entire group turned towards him. To say that he was discomforted by the attention would have made too light of his feelings at that particular moment. Used to fading into the background and being almost forgettable to those he had encounters with, Kalo was rightly unnerved by having such interest shown in his person, Kit’s lazy shuffle behind Kalo’s massive body was proof that he was not the only one discomforted. 

“Thank you for volunteering, young man” rang out a voice from the front if the crowd. The people around him all nodded their heads in agreement a few even smiled at him excited to see what would happening next. Kalo around and into the mass of people searching for the speaker of those outrageous words, his search with met with a pair of dark aged eyes.

“You are mistaken old man.” Kalo responded, his voice carrying over the silent the spectators.    

Mordan could hardly contain his glee. Finally, after days of watching and waiting for sign of the man, he was finally here!

As each day had passed, amongst the masses of Okeanida’s market, he had entertained and regaled those that had gathered about him with magic and tales long forgotten. Not a bad way to will the hours away but what was at first a gentle hum along his back, was now a violent tension filled his body, it was time. His arrival could not have happened any later; just this morning word had reached the Hermit of a party of riders were headed this way and as extensive as his network was, the news of their arrival was only half a days ride ahead of them.

Mordan stretched out his weathered hand towards the disgruntled young man in patient indulgence while disguising his mirth in the face of the other’s obvious displeasure at being made the center of intention.

“You mistake my purpose in being here. I mean only to take in your wondrous workings not take part in the show.” Kalo responded his voice hardening in warning.

At that, Mordan could not help but chuckle, “Life, young master is not for the viewing but for taking part in,” he replied good-naturedly, “Come now you seem a stout sort.”

Small hands pushed at Kalo’s back catching him unawares as he was so focused on the crowd and old con man before him, causing him to stumble into the path cleared for him. He snapped around quickly to see who had shoved him, Kit suspiciously enough appeared to be quite taken with a smudge on the toe of his boot, Kalo sighed in his frustration seeing the smile that Kit could not quite hide.

“Ah, I see you have a young friend with you he is welcome to join us as well.” The Hermit called out cheerfully.

Kit’s head popped up at The Hermit’s words, all amusement suddenly gone from his face as he looked pleadingly at Kalo. Serves you right, Kalo thought to himself as he pulled Kit along behind him as he made his way to the front of the crowd.             

Mordan stood from the footstool, he had occupied during his days in the market, as the two reluctant males made their way before him. With his thin but strong arms Mordan embraced the small party, a small mewl and wriggling limp turning his attention to the young boy.

Feeling Lycia’s movements against his chest, Kit tightened his arms below the sling he had fashioned to carry her and murmured to softly trying to settle the creature once again. Mordan, his curiosity piqued by what the boy could possibly be carrying about his person, reached out his hand and slowly pulled back the sling’s fabric from Kit’s chest and peered down at the creature before turning his searching gaze on Kit.  

“What do they call you boy?”

“Kit” he answered quietly.

“Yes, you must come along, we must be sure to keep her safe.” The Hermit whispered to Kit patting the feline softly and gazing knowingly into the boy’s eyes.

Turning back towards the crowd that watched the exchange in quiet interest. Mordan arranged Kit and Kalo along his flanks and gestured out grandly outwards, “Alas, our time together had quickly drawn to a close. The hour has arrived for my companions and I to depart,” Mordan called out to the crowd. Kalo, having had enough of this spectacle threw off the arm the old man had slung over his massive shoulder and turned away from the group. The Hermit, showing more strength than his advanced against suggested, quickly snagged Kalo’s arm as he turned away and pulled him snuggly into his side embrace, his speech uninterrupted by the movement. “In these days of ill fortune, strength can be found within even the smallest child and the rising of a new day’s sun.” The old man bowed lowly before the crowd before continuing, “I bid you all a most prosperous journey until next we meet.”  

A commotion of horses and people in the direction of the market’s entrance broke the moment turning their audience’s attention away from The Hermit and his companions towards the entrance. Mordan, cursed quietly under his breath realizing that this disturbance meant there time had been lesser than he had anticipated and glad that he had prepared for this possibility, quickly turned to his companions “Come my friends let us depart from this place.” Grabbing their arms; one thin with childhood, the other firm with defined muscles of manhood and pulled them towards the rear wall of the market. Kalo, prepared for the old man’s surprising strength jerked his arm from The Hermit’s grasp, refusing to budge.

“Go where old man? I have no time for your tricks.”

“This no time for a fit of temper, young master. No good will come from staying here.”  Mordan replied stepping behind the younger man as he began to push him forwards.

“Stop shoving me old man, I said no.” Kalo yelled in response his arms flailing in frustration as he was inched closer to the back wall. “There is a wall, Hermit. I can’t go through a wall.” Kalo continued to yell at the man behind him as he faced a sure reality of being pushed into the tapestry-covered wall that surrounded the market. Ignoring Kalo’s words Mordan continued to press him onwards all the while dragging the young boy closely behind him. It wouldn’t serve to lose either of them in the scuffle that was sure to ensue with this latest arrival to the square and so with one last shove, Kalo’s large frame pushed through the large tapestry that draped the wall to the narrow alleyway it concealed.

For days the small party had travelled following what whisper or hint they picked up along the trail. It was not until the fore-rider returned to the party with word of The Hermit having been sighted in the trading market of Okeanida, that Phalan believed that there was an end to this hunt. With renewed vigor Phalan commanded his party faster and harder towards the city, chasing the rising sun and the scent of the sea.

“My Lord, he is in the market.” The scout shouted to Phalan, as his horse raced towards them and came to a sudden stop. Phalan looked suddenly up towards him as he jumped off of his horse and stood before him.

“He is there now?” Phalan asked urgently as he began making his way towards his own horse leaving the men who he had been consulting with scrambling in his wake decamping from the area and making to their own horses.

“Even as we speak my Lord, The Hermit is holding court in the market.” The scout responded, breathless from his race back to camp.

“We could be there in but a few hours, my Lord.” Spoke the company’s Captain as he drew along side Phalan astride a great black beast, he continued to speak as Phalan threw a leg over the back of his own snorting beast, “Sooner if we ride hard.”

“The road into Okeanida is crowded with wagons and carts from merchants and their wares. I alone barely made it through them.” The scout replied cautiously noticing the determined set of Phalan’s shoulder’s as he turned towards the road that would take them to Okeanida.

Turning to look at the men scrambling to mount their horses, Phalan responded to the Scout’s concern with fierce words, “I dare any of them to stand in my way.” Leaving them with that Phalan nudged his beast forward and raced onwards a trail of dust marking his progress.

Phalan allowed his magnificent steed, Oden, its own head on the open road and the distance was quickly eaten up by the beast’s lengthy strides. All too soon the rest of the party caught up to him, their horses not nearly as powerful as Oden, chased his heels and with single-minded focus they pressed on.

As Phalan had presumed, no one dared to stand in the way as the fierce horde of riders bared down upon them. Men, women and children a like scurried to the edges of the road lest they be crushed under hooves. It wasn’t until mere meters away where the crowds where at the heaviest did their progress slow to an agitated stop and Oden’s impatience with the new pace managed to startle a merchant’s old mule into tipping it’s burden over into the wagon beside it and shouts and cries broke out into the once peaceful gate.

“My fabrics! Oh my precious silks, ruined!” yelled the man whose cart had been toppled over by the awry donkey cart. “You will have to pay for this.” He continued, grabbing the first man as he tried to calm his beast.

“Do not look to me for payment, it is of no fault of mine, my mule was frightened!” the old man yelled back as the first man continued to hold him by the gripped neck of his tunic.

Phalan watched the scene before him from astride his mount as the merchant’s yelling quickly turned into a chorus of upraised and angered voices, his already meager patience with this situation quickly waning. The guards too, were useless, they were intended to have manned the city’s gates and maintain order inside the city but as they jumped into the fray, they managed only in adding to the chaos.

Phalan’s disgust at the display before him must have been made plain by the look on his face for it took only a brief glance from his glance to his Captain before he and the rest of his men were dismounting and wading into the crowd until they were able to separate the worst of the rebel-rousers apart, creating a path for Phalan to then navigate to the city’s entrance. Just before crossing through the gateway Phala stopped his beast before a young child who stood there watching the melee in big eyed amazement.

“I hear The Hermit is in the market today have you seen him?” Phalan spoke down to the young child.

“At the far side, my lord.” The young girl replied shyly her gaze fixed on his boots she bowed quickly and scampered off before he could ask anymore questions just as his men returned to his side on their horses once more.

“He is supposedly over on the far side of the market.”

Then let us keep the horses back and go on foot we wouldn’t want him to be aware of presence before we are close enough to catch him.”

“Do you think it is possible he might have missed our arrival?”  Phalan responded sharply. “I do not care what you have to do just find him and bring him back to me.”

“Yes, My Lord.” The Captain replied before signaling to his men, while a few did dismount from their beasts three of the remainder kept their seat as they spread forward into the crowd, their eyes scanning the faces they passed and alert for suspicious movements about them.