Adventure of Parthus 1

The trees thin at last, and the mill clearing opens ahead of Parthus and the others. Wheat and barley fields lie in rough bands beyond the path, while a lone track runs between low homesteads and their chicken coops.

The villagers keep to their work, but every glance toward the road is tight with fear. The Merchant Father points northeast, where a squat mill sits apart from the rest, half-hidden by the slope.

The words strike like a blade turned in a wound. Not bandit greed, then, but a claim of office, thin and dangerous as parchment.

Parthus stands with shield and sword at his side as the mill keeps its silent watch. The road ahead looks ordinary, yet every door in the clearing seems to be listening.

Parthus questions the first villager he can reach, calm but direct. The man keeps glancing toward the mill, then finally points to the dirt lane beyond the barley, where wagon ruts vanish behind the slope.

A woman at a fence line mutters that the captain never comes alone anymore. Her warning draws more eyes, and the clearing seems to tighten around Parthus.

A boy in the road startles at the question and points toward the mill house. The answer comes with a price, because Parthus’s inquiry is heard by half the clearing, and one shutter closes hard somewhere nearby.

Parthus lets his gaze travel the clearing instead of the faces. The lane to the mill runs straight and open, but a hedge-crowded drainage cut breaks left behind the barley, narrow enough for one horse at a time.

Beyond it, a stack of sacks and a sunken wagon rut make a second cover line toward the mill wall. The shuttered house, the tally chest, and the yard all sit in one hard sightline from the road.

Robert goes pale as he follows Parthus’s look to the mill. He sees the same thing at once, and his hand tightens at his side.

The Merchant Brother swallows and points lower, toward the sacks by the wall, then to the hedge line. A safer approach now exists, but it still depends on moving before the mill answers back.