Chapter Five: Allway

After days of journeying on foot both night and day, with a few rests in between, Orwen reached the distant town of Allway exhausted. He immediately used some of the coins he had brought with him to send a letter by way of a missionary who was en route to the monastery where Jansen lived and swore on the gold coins and his own crucifix that he would reveal to no one, not even Jansen, from which direction he had come or who had sent the letter. Jansen would find out as soon as he opened it, but Orwen hoped that if the letter was not intercepted his brother alone would know of his hiding place and perhaps be able to join him there.

That night Orwen paced nervously in front of a quiet cottage on the edge of town. He hoped that he would be welcomed, but he had to think of a convincing story to tell the common people inside or they might sniff out the truth and turn him in to his Uncle for the reward they would very likely recieve in return. In the end Orwen decided it was too risky and snuck into their stable to sleep a few hours until dawn.

When the morning noises and his discomfort woke him around sunrise he snuck quickly back into the town and crawled into a small niche between the Butcher's shop and a haystack, where he tried to rub some warmth back into his limbs. He had written in his letter for Jansen to borrow a horse and ride as swiftly as he could to Allway. And Orwen knew that if his brother recieved the letter that day he might reach the town by evening. In the meantime Orwen needed to keep to himself and stay out of sight while he watched for Jansen's arrival.

Around noon he bought an apple and a block of cheese. He wished he had brought more money. If Jansen didn't come that day he would have to go hungry for awhile. Everything was so uncertain. Orwen waited and waited, sure that every hour brought Jansen closer to the town. But eventually the afternoon sun and constant bustle of the town's main street lulled him to sleep in his haystack. He woke to a rough prodding.

"Hey you! We don't like idlers 'round here. Move off!" The butcher was shouting in his ear while shoving him aside with a boot. Orwen stood and turned his back on the man, wondering where else he should stake out, but as sleep left him his attention was drawn to the tavern further up the street where familiar figures were standing in a group. Orwen sucked in a breath and drew himself back into the space between the butcher's shop and the haystack. The butcher had gone back to his own business.

"He's here. That's what the letter said." he heard the gruff voice of one of his Uncle's soldiers. Orwen noted, as they passed, that they were not wearing their uniforms or carrying swords, though a closer look assured him that they were armed.

"Well, Thoreau made certain that we had better bring him back alive, so he can deal with both of them at once. So we had better search every nook of this place."

"Right. Tell the others; he won't be at the tavern. We should spread out."

The first man ran back to the group standing near the tavern. Orwen didn't stay long after that. With tears in his eyes, realizing that his delay in warning his brother had resulted in his capture, and perhaps his death, weighed Orwen's footsteps with regret and sorrow. But the one true impulse that drove him forward was the desire to survive. He would survive for Jansen. If anything could be done to save his brother, he would find a way to do it.

It was easy to slip out of the town and head out onto the road since his Uncle's men were certain he was waiting, unsuspectingly in the town. He hoped they would not realize their error until they had searched for an hour or more and he had made his way to the next town over, which was very large. If he could accomplish this, he might have a chance.

Chapter Six: A Stranger