So he kept what he knew to himself as they ate their food and packed their gear and set out once more, into a day that was bright and sunny. Loose and easy as always, Quentin joked and laughed and told stories as they rode, leaving Bek to play the role of the audience and to simmer in his own uncertainty. They rode upstream along the banks of the Silver River through a morning filled with spring smells and birdsong, through a backdrop of mingled green hues splashed with clusters of colorful wildflowers and the glint of sunlight off the river. They sighted fishermen seated on the banks of the river and anchored in skiffs just offshore in quiet coves, and they passed travelers on the road, mostly tradesmen and peddlers on their way between villages. The warm day seemed to infect everyone with a spirit of good humor, inviting smiles and waves and cheerful greetings from all.
By midday, the cousins had forded the Silver River just west of where it disappeared into the deep forests of the Anar and were traveling north along the treeline. It was a short journey from there to the Dwarf village of Depo Bent, a trading outpost nestled in the shadow of the Wolfsktaag, and the sun was still high when they arrived. Depo Bent was little more than a cluster of homes, warehouses, and shops sprung up around a clearing in the woods that opened up at the end of the sole road leading in or out from the plains. It was there that Bek and Quentin were to ask for Truls Rohk although they had no idea of whom they were supposed to make inquiry.
They began their undertaking by leaving their horses at a stable where the owner promised a rubdown and feeding and watering. Bluff and to the point, in the way of Dwarves, he agreed for a small extra charge to store their gear. Freed of horses and equipment, the cousins walked to a tavern and enjoyed a hearty lunch of stew, bread, and ale. The tavern was visited mostly by the Dwarves of the village, but no one paid them any attention. Quentin was wearing the Sword of Leah strapped across his back in the fashion of Highlanders, and both wore Highlander clothing, but if the residents found it curious that the cousins were so far from home, they kept it to themselves.
“Truls Rohk must be a Dwarf,” Quentin ventured as they ate. “No one else would be living here. Maybe he’s a trapper of some sort.”
Bek nodded agreeably, but he couldn’t quite fathom why Walker would want a trapper on their journey.
After lunch, they began asking where they could find the man they were looking for and promptly discovered that no one knew. They started with the tavern’s barkeep and owner and worked their way up and down the street from shop to warehouse, and everyone looked at them blankly. No one knew a man named Truls Rohk. No one had ever heard the name.
“Guess maybe he doesn’t live here after all,” Quentin conceded after more than twenty unsuccessful inquiries.
“Guess maybe he’s not going to be as easy to find as Walker led us to believe,” Bek grumbled.
Nevertheless, they pressed on, continuing their search, moving from one building to the next, the afternoon slipping slowly away from them. Eventually they had worked their way back around to the stables where they had left their horses and supplies. The stableman was nowhere in sight, but a solidlooking Dwarf dressed in woodsman’s garb was sitting on a bench out front, whittling on a piece of wood. As the cousins approached, he glanced up, then set aside his knife and carving and rose.
“Quentin Leah?” he asked in a way that suggested he already knew the answer. Quentin nodded, and the Dwarf stuck out his gnarled hand. “I’m Panax. I’m your guide.”
“Our guide?” Quentin repeated, extending his own hand in response. He winced at the other’s grip. “You’re taking us to Truls Rohk?”
The Dwarf nodded. “After a fashion.”
“How did you know we were coming?” Bek asked in surprise.
“You must be Bek Rowe.” Panax extended his hand a second time, and Bek shook it firmly. “Our mutual friend sent word. Now and then I do favors for him. There’s a few of us he trusts enough to ask when he needs one.” He glanced around idly. “Let’s move somewhere less public while we talk this over.”