Erik And The Dragon ( Book 4) by Sam Ferguson

ladies desire to make coats out of.”
    “Were you in the wilds?” Al asked.
    Ferishe shook his head. “No, that’s why I left. As soon as I saw the Tarthuns coming over the border to the Middle Kingdom, I high tailed it out of there faster than a spooked doe in spring.” He pointed to his mules. “That’s why I didn’t clean my catch as well as I should have. I just grabbed what I could and fled.”
    “How many did you see?” Lady Arkyn asked.
    “Well, I didn’t see any of them,” he replied with a shrug.
    “Then how do you know they were Tarthuns,” Al asked. “Could have just been rival trappers.”
    Ferishe shook his head emphatically. “No.” He gathered his arms around his knees and dropped his head low as he looked into the flames. “There is a village in the mountains, well, a trading post really, but there are folks who live there. Or, at least there were folks who lived there,” he said. “I came through to buy another steel trap. One of mine had rusted out beyond repair and the springs were broke. When I arrived, there was nothing left of the town. Doc Hamm’s body was lying in the street in front of his burnt shop. Spears in the ground had severed heads set upon them near the town’s entrance. Darmond, the butcher, was stuffed full of arrows like a pin cushion. His wife and their children were gone. The divines only know what happened to them.” He stared silently into the flames for a while.
    “Did anyone survive?” Lady Arkyn coaxed.
    Ferishe slowly shook his head. “I found a hatchet, buried deep in Migorun’s chest. He was the post commander. He used to be an officer in the army. Retired now, of course. Came out to the trading post town to help with security.” Ferishe shrugged. “The only real problems the town ever faced before was from the odd bear here and there, or perhaps some goblin scout foolish enough to leave its cave in the wilds in search of greener pastures, as it were. They never saw the likes of Tarthuns before though. Migorun and his sons were no match for them. Hard to say how many came through the town, or where they went, but they left no one alive. If anyone did survive, I am not for knowing their fate, nor would I want to dwell on what the Tarthuns might do to any slaves they took.” He sighed heavily and leaned forward again.
    “The coffee is ready,” he said, his voice cracking midsentence.
    “So where are you going now?” Al asked, trying to change the subject.
    “To Drakei Glazei,” Ferishe replied. “Try to sell off my furs and then move farther west. There is some good trapping to be had in some of the forests. Not as good as the mountains, but likely safer.”
    “We have heard of Tarthuns coming from the north as well,” Arkyn said.
    Ferishe nodded. “They are like wolves,” he said. “They smell blood in the Middle Kingdom and are coming to scavenge us.”
    “What do you mean?” Al asked.
    Ferishe poured a cup of coffee and handed it to Lady Arkyn. “It’s hot,” he cautioned. Then he turned back to Al. “Even at the trading post we heard the news about the senate,” he said. “We also heard about the different nobles fighting each other and squabbling over the throne like a pack of dogs over a soup bone. I knew it wouldn’t take long for news like that to travel out to the Tarthuns. A divided kingdom rich for the taking, if you have the muscle for it.”
    Al nodded his head. “They won’t be able to come over the mountains in large numbers,” he said.
    “Why not?” Ferishe countered. “The pass in the north is not the only one, nor is it the best.”
    “What do you mean?” Lady Arkyn asked.
    Al spoke up. “The southern pass would go through Hamath Valley. The elves would not easily let Tarthuns through there. Tualdern would have to fall first. Besides, I hear there are others not so keen on the Tarthuns that live in the southern wilds. The only logical pass is the northern pass.”
    Ferishe shook his head. “Maybe a few