The latest of WHEN TROUBLES FOLLOW YOU HOME.

Audio version by David Carroll:

As always, I hope you enjoy the story.

“Who was that boy last night? He had red hair and sat with three other men at a table by the bar.”  Braydon asked.  It had been some time since he performed menial chores around a house, but his father made it quite clear he didn’t need, or want, any of his servants.

“I’m not sure; I don’t remember him among the festivities.”

“No, he left just as I was coming in.”

His father looked confused.  “You remember all that about someone you saw for less than a minute?”

“Yes, old habits die hard I suppose.”  He shrugged.

“I can only imagine.  Well, there is that boy that comes in from the north from time to time.  Darren I think his name is.  A strange lad, but he’s always seemed nice enough.  If you are really curious you would do better to ask some of the others.  Mitchell or Pereval, both friends of yours as a child weren’t they?”

The connection made him even more curious.  “Yes, I remember them.  Does the boy ever bring people with him when he comes to town?”

“Not that I know of, wait, there was a pretty young girl with him once now that I think back.  It was quite obvious that he was smitten with her.  Why are you so curious about him, anyway?”

Braydon saw no reason to lie to his father.  “I felt something inside him that I haven’t felt in a very long time.”  A very long time indeed, he thought.  “How long has he been coming to town?”

His father thought for some time before answering, “I would say about three or four years, I guess.”  An old familiar knot formed between his shoulders.  Braydon didn’t believe in coincidences.

“You mentioned he was strange, what did you mean?”  The question made his father stop what he was doing, lost in what Braydon assumed to be a memory.  “Is everything all right, Father?”

“Yes, everything is fine.  It was just a bit over a year ago I suppose.  There was a northerner visiting, said he knew you in fact.  The man called himself Victor.  Well, not long after his arrival, the boy showed up with an old woman.  The next thing we knew the inn was on fire and nobody could find the three of them.”

“I thought you said nobody else had come to town with him?”

“I’m sorry, my boy, I’m sorry, I suppose I had blocked out the thought.  Three people died in that fire.  We don’t see much death in these parts.  Darren told everyone he had never seen the woman before, that she asked him to help her in getting to town.  The story seemed likely enough.”

“What did this woman look like?”

His father thought about it for some time while they worked in silence.  “I’m sorry; I just can’t seem to remember.  She wore a hooded cloak mostly.  It’s her voice that I remember though.”  Braydon stopped sweeping and looked up at the man.  He had an intense expression.  “I’ll never forget that raspy voice so long as I live.”

That solidified the thought in his head.  After all these years, Zydalla was here, waiting for him.  Braydon closed his eyes and took a deep breath.  “The man was Captain Victor Dunnis.  He served with me in a great many battles.  He was made Lord Protector of these parts, but we never heard from him again.  After an investigation, it was assumed he was killed by brigands, but now I think he met a different end, one much worse.”

His father gave him a fearful look.  “Do you think we are in danger?”

“Yes, I do, and I’m afraid it would do no good for me to leave at this point.”  Pain filled him as he said the words.  Had he doomed his own people by coming home?

Many hours later, Braydon left the town hall grumbling.  He blamed himself as much as the villagers, if not more so.  After all, why should they listen to someone they’ve hardly known?

At least they had listened to some reason.  Tripling the guard would help to give them advance notice.  There was something in that.  Braydon hadn’t realized that the village had been attacked a number of times.  Many of the men even seemed to be proficient with their defensive strategies.  Maybe it wouldn’t go as bad as he thought.  Still, they were grossly underestimating what he knew must be was coming.

It was up to him, then, to protect them from the danger.  Braydon just hoped that it would be enough.