Once they had gathered enough medicinal herbs, they returned to the inn. Remembering the innkeeper's words, the girl once again left Milo alone in the room and headed toward the bar. There truly was a stranger sitting there, with a whole pile of empty tankards lined up in front of him. And yet, as she approached and heard the man speak, Daiya couldn't have said he sounded drunk.
The girl first turned to the innkeeper.
"Where can I sell healing herbs around here?" she asked.
"I'm afraid," said the massive elf, scratching his head after a moment's thought, "that the nearest market is a two-week walk from here, in the city of Dynja."
"And in which direction is this Dynja?" the girl inquired. They hardly had enough for two weeks' worth of meals, but they didn't have much of a choice either.
To her surprise, it wasn't the innkeeper who answered her question, but the stranger.
"Toward the Möllnar Fortress. In fact, I myself am headed that way. And as my friend has likely already informed you, I'm in need of two strong, young elves to assist me."
The girl studied the stranger more closely. The gaunt man wore a white shirt and a long brown cloak, from whose hood spilled his long, half-gray hair. It was difficult to determine his age—his face wasn't particularly wrinkled, but his serious gaze and graying hair suggested he wasn't young either.
"And what kind of help would you need from us?" Daiya asked.
The traveler shrugged. "Oh, everything. First of all, I'm having a hard time hauling my cargo to the fortress I'm headed to. I had two traveling companions—servants—but wouldn't you know it, they ran off along the way. And then, my lord, Lord Möllnar, has seen his household severely diminished by recent attacks from the local clans. He's looking for young elves and healers to help manage the tasks around the fortress. He himself was seriously wounded."
"Well, what a stroke of luck, then, that I'm a healer too, isn't it?" the girl said with a smile.
"Indeed," the man chuckled, "I wasn't expecting such coincidences. I assure you, if you manage to aid my lord, he will reward you handsomely. Though his retainers are few, he has silver in abundance."
The offer was indeed not bad. First, traveling as the stranger's companions would allow them to get through the next few weeks at lower cost. Second, if Lord Möllnar accepted them into his favor due to Daiya's healing abilities, they would no longer have to fear bounty hunters—at least not under the lord's protection. They could wait out the storm at the fortress. Daiya only hoped she was worth as much as two healthy young elves as a healer, because she knew full well that Milo wouldn't be much help in his current condition.
"My name is Daiya, and I agree to your terms," the girl said confidently, extending her arm.
"Wonderful," said the lanky man, extending his own. When he stood up, it was clear how tall he was, he towered at least a head above the innkeeper. "My name is Gert."
At the next moonrise, they left the inn. Daiya informed Gert that Milo wasn't in the best health and, generally speaking, had been very withdrawn and silent for some time. The man just waved it off. In his words, a true elf was defined not by words, but by deeds. The girl nodded and silently prayed to Sylun that the traveler wouldn't grow suspicious.
Fortunately, Milo continued to follow the girl's gestures and instructions—who knew why. When the cart had to be pushed out of a pothole, the boy strained every muscle to help, though no emotion crossed his face. When he had to carry a heavier package in his arms, he did so silently. The only problem was that he only responded when Daiya gave the instructions. When Gert tried to ask him to do something, Milo just stood there like a stone, completely unmoving.
"Your friend is terribly disrespectful," the man grumbled once, but the girl assured him that he wasn't doing it on purpose: it was just a rare illness that had infected his mind. Gert didn't seem to believe the tale, but there wasn't much he could do. As long as the boy did his job, everything was fine.
Soon they reached the city of Dynja, where Daiya sold part of her herbs and finally got her hands on some silver. A small amount, true, but better than nothing. There, Gert asked the girl if they were still intent on continuing toward Möllnar Fortress. She assured him they would.
Daiya asked a lot of questions about Lord Möllnar along the way. From their companion, she learned that the lord came from a long line of mages: a dynasty that had, over the centuries, lost most of its power. Even so, Lord Möllnar had lived an unusually long life thanks to the magic in his blood. He had recently turned three hundred years old.
The girl found this very interesting—nothing like it had ever been spoken of in her own clan. When it came to which god the people of the fortress worshiped, Gert admitted the area was quite divided in that regard. First, there were the followers of Sylun, like those from Daiya's clan. But there were also nonbelievers, especially among the tribes in the forests surrounding the fortress. Gert explained that this might have been one of the reasons for the attacks on the lord's people. Being a devout follower himself, Lord Möllnar demanded the regular blood sacrifices due to the god, sacrifices the unbelievers considered needless slaughter.
Daiya nodded darkly. Sylun, of course, favored blood offerings, she was perfectly aware of that. Why else would her mother have had to be killed in exchange for her birth? Why else would animals be sacrificed to him at every full moon? Still, she had already promised the god she would do whatever was required.
And if Sylun demanded bloodshed—then bloodshed he would have.