Sigh. Ah Well, one reviewer at a time. Thanks Luvergirl of books :D
Oh btw, thank you again my loyal reviewer. Hate ta bust ur bubble, but it's not either of them, I actually dunno who it's gonna be. I'm kinda making everything up on the fly, but it's not them. ;) Good guess.
EVERYONE! Keep the guesses flowing in!
The next morning, Will got up at the crack of dawn. He looked out the window and saw the sun peeking over the horizon, sending bolts of red into the sky, turning some of the sky pink. It was breathtaking. However, Will wasn't there to enjoy the view. He was looking down at the street. Surprisingly, again there were no people out.
Will stretched, quickly gathered all of his things, and ran out the inn after giving the innkeeper a quick thank-you. He saddled Tug, then quickly mounted him. After spending the day and most of the afternoon futilely searching the city, Will decided to take a break and walked into a inn for a drink.
Will nodded toward the bartender. "Hello there. An ale if you don't mind." Will flipped him a silver piece and sat down. The bartender nodded, poured his glass to the top with some bubbly, pale, fizzy ale and set it down in front of Will. Will side and took a long draught, glad to be able to relax for a few minutes. He wiped the bubbles off his upper lip and took another glug.
A man dressed suspiously in long black robes came up to the bar and sat down, and muttered out the corner of his mouth, "Heard you were searching for your wife's dress." Will looked at him carefully. The man looked like a hardened criminal with scarred, calloused hands, and a long white scar going down his forehead to his lower neck.
"Yes I am," Will replied. "Who wants to know?"
The man slid an envelope across the table and quickly turned around and walked out the door. Will quickly opened the letter and it read:
I have the dress. Be very careful. If you don't do EXACTLY what I tell you to do, the dress goes down the gutters. I have watchers everywhere, beware Will Treaty…
"Uhhhhh," Will said, slightly confused. "Alyss' dress is being ransomed?" he wondered. He shrugged. He looked down the letter at the first direction.
Go into Burthope and walk into the Kliktime Inn. A messenger will give you your next directions. Burn this paper or the dress goes down the gutter…
Will crumpled up the paper and tossed it in the fire crackling merrily away in the fireplace. He ran out the door, resaddled Tug, and mounted up, riding towards Burthope.
Burthope was a good 25 kilometer journey. At the speed that Tug trotted, it would take nearly 2 hours before reaching Burthope, which would mean getting there at around dusk. Will was not happy and riding around in the dark, tripping and stumbling. He could easily hurt himself or Tug. However, he had no choice, so he rode on.
The sun was setting as Will made his way into Burthope. He had made better time than he had thought and arrived about half an hour before dusk. Will asked a few friendly locals to the Kliktime Inn. The pointed to a ramshackle little building on the edge of town. Will frowned. It was exactly the place you would think criminals would be together to plan their next crime. Will tied Tug to a tree a good hundred meters away from the Inn before walking towards the Inn.
He pushed against the door, which would barely budge from all the rust caked on the hinges. He finally forced it open with a groan. The inside wasn't much better than the outside. Will sat down at the bar ad looked at the grim faced men sitting down throughout the inn. Their glasses were as greasy the bartender himself was. The glasses were absolutely horrifying.
"A drink?" The bartender asked, grinning widely showing the stumps of his remaining nine teeth. Will shook his head. The bartender shrugged.
Will waited for a quarter of an hour before a figure just like the one he saw before dropped a letter in front of him before rushing off. Will looked down at the letter. He sighed and opened it. He read:
Hello Will. What I want you to do is to walk, no donkey please, all the way to Port Caynn. There, the exchange will take place. Your donkey has been taken and is safe. He will be returned to you as soon as we reach a deal. Burn this note after or the dress goes down the gutter.
Will erupted from his seat, tossed the note in the fire, and hurried outdoors, looking for the familiar figure of Tug. He wasn't there. Will searched desperately without any sign of Tug. Will seethed with anger. "I will come for you, whoever you are!" he snarled before heading in the direction of Port Caynn.