The Agent by Brock E. Deskins Page B

cocked his head and made a rough count. “I don’t know. It sounds like at least a score of men. With everyone’s attention focused on me, even I might not be able to avoid everything they throw at me.”
    Adam looked around once more, chewing on his lip as he sought a resolution to his internal struggle. “Follow my lead and don’t do anything stupid.”
    “Look, kid, I appreciate you wanting to help, but you are not going to be much use in a fight. In fact, you will probably just be in the way and get us both killed.”
    “If you don’t do anything stupid, there won’t be a fight. You have asked me put a lot of faith in you. Now you need to trust me a little.”
    Garran cast his eyes up the road. He could hear the riders just around the bend, and they would be upon them within seconds. “All right, kid, but if it all goes to hell, get down and stay out of the way.”
    Adam and Garran moved to the side of the road and pressed up against the rock wall. Adam closed his eyes and began mumbling under his breath. Garran felt something in the air, something energetic like the prelude to a lightning storm. The riders rounded the bend and reined in their mounts when they spotted the two travelers. One of the riders, a sergeant given the insignia on his cloak clasp, guided his horse forward.
    “Who are you folks, and where are you going?” the sergeant asked.
    “My name is Derik Carver, sir,” Adam replied. “My mother and I are traveling to…uh…”
    “Moorwind,” Garran supplied.
    “That’s right, Moorwind. We are hoping to find work there.”
    The sergeant leaned down lightly and narrowed his eyes. “You seem to be traveling light for such a long trip.”
    “No, we have all the supplies we need.”
    Garran detected a slight change in the resonance of Adam’s voice and a noticeable increase in the static in the air around them.
    The sergeant nodded. “Right. Have you seen anyone else on the road, particularly a young man with blonde hair and a slightly older man with brown hair looking like a disheveled drunk and opium fiend?”
    “Hey—”
    Adam jabbed an elbow into Garran’s ribs. “You are the first people we have seen on the road these past two days.”
    The sergeant nodded. “If you see anyone fitting that description, report it to the next constable or soldiers you find. There is a sizeable reward for them; enough for you to retire in Moorwind.”
    Adam smiled and bobbed his head. “That would be a great thing. We’ll certainly keep our eyes open, sir.”
    Garran and Adam did not move until the squad of riders trotted past and disappeared around the next bend. Adam turned and looked into Garran’s grinning face.
    “What?”
    “You’re god-touched. Why didn’t you tell me? It makes so much more sense for you being removed from succession than just being a fancy boy.”
    Adam scowled. “I am not a fancy boy, and I did not tell you because I and the few people who know about my condition are sworn to secrecy.”
    “We cannot have secrets between us, kid.”
    “Like you don’t have things you keep to yourself.”
    “Not things that can sink our ship, and I’m more than willing to share everything about me.”
    “No thanks; I have a hard enough time looking past your more disgusting attributes that openly share.”
    “What’s disgusting is possessing a skill that could make the difference in the success of our mission and keeping it to yourself.”
    “I’m sorry, I didn’t think of it like that.”
    “At the very least, it could have helped in that fight with the bear, so at least half of the blame belongs to you.”
    “In what world could my ability have changed the outcome of that?”
    Garran shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe you could have told the bear to go to sleep, then it wouldn’t have mauled you before I whacked it.”
    “It doesn’t work like that, you idiot!”
    “Then how does it work?”
    Adam sighed and stared at the ground. He did not want to get into a