Ben's NaNoWriMo Log

Chapter 9 added Sep 23, 2005
Sarah opened her eyes as she felt a hand shaking her. Molly was silhouetted against the midday sun. "Come on, we need to get moving." She helped Sarah up into the saddle again. The stiffness in her legs made Sarah groan. "Don't worry," said Molly, "We should be in Coppergate in a couple of hours." There was no sign of pursuit, so the three travelers kept a slightly less grueling pace as they rode into Coppergate. The town was much like Silverwell in its construction, a collection of stone buildings nestled against the bulk of the mountains. They could see smoke streaming up from a number of chimneys throughout the town, far more than they had seen in Silverwell. "Coppergate is a mining town, like Silverwell once was," explained Molly. "They live or die by that single industry. The mine bosses are the unquestioned authority, though they do have a nominal mayor. It's a terrible place to live, but there's virtually no way to leave. The bosses don't pay anyone enough that they can afford to go anywhere else." "How long has it been since you were last here?" asked Sarah. "Five years." "That's a long time. Maybe it's changed since then." "Bah." Molly spat on the gravel road. "Nothing ever changes here. Nothing." Sarah gave Syphar a questioning look, but the wizard only shrugged. They continued in silence toward the town. The sun shone red from a pair of massive copper doors set into the granite town wall. Each door was over fifteen feet tall by Sarah's estimation, and nearly six feet wide. Rearing horses were embossed the gleaming doors, their hooves hovering over the road between. "Amazing," breathed Sarah. "They're just wood," muttered Molly. She shook her head. "Don't mind me. I just don't have a lot of good memories from this place. We should be able to pick up some extra supplies at the trading post and get on our way into the Gap before dark." They passed through the gate and into the town. There was little joy in Coppergate, if the people they saw in the street were any indication. The drably clad men and women walked slowly, eyes downcast. A few small children stared up at the riders as they passed, but the adults seemed to hardly even notice them. Sarah leaned over toward Syphar. "I think I can see why she's not thrilled about coming home again." The trading post was a large building near the center of town. It was in better repair than many of the small houses around it, with a fresh coat of paint on its plastered exterior. The three travelers dismounted, discussing among themselves what they would need for the journey through the mountains. "If nothing else, we'll need a lot of rope," said Molly as she fished a pouch of coins out of her saddle bag. "We may need to tie ourselves together during some of the steeper parts." "I thought the point of a mountain pass was to make it easier to get across the mountains," said Sarah. Molly smiled. "This is the easier way. If we were going the hard way we'd need the rope just to get up the mountain." She stopped at the door as she found a man standing in her way. "Excuse me." The man folded his arms across his chest. He wore a blue velvet doublet and breeches, though the fine clothes looked somehow out of place on him. A heavy broadsword hung from his belt. "I don't think these people have paid their taxes yet." Sarah noticed several other men nearby moving in their direction, similarly well dressed and armed. She glanced at Syphar, but his reaction was unreadable. "We're just passing through," said Molly coolly. "I don't want any trouble." "It's a passing through tax," said one of the other men. "Why don't we just pay them?" whispered Sarah. Molly kept her eyes on the man blocking her path. "I'm not giving a penny to these cretins or their bloated pustule of a boss." Sarah could see Syphar's fingers flexing, and the stone in his ring began to glow dimly. Before she could ask him what he was doing, she heard the sound of swords being drawn. Molly still hadn't moved. The man in the doorway held the point of his sword over Molly's chest. "You've got a dangerous mouth on you, little l-- ah!" Faster than Sarah could follow, Molly had drawn her rapier and slashed across the thug's knuckles. Her blade whipped around behind her head to parry another sword coming at her from behind before the first man's sword hit the ground. The other two swordsmen, who had been advancing on Sarah and Syphar, turned their attention toward Molly instead. She turned around, hooking one foot under the broadsword lying at her feet. As she parried another blow from the man who had come up behind her, she tossed the broadsword up into the air with her foot, catching it in her left hand. As the three men hacked and cut at Molly, Sarah began to feel frightened. She wasn't worried about Molly's safety; she seemed to be blocking every blade with hardly a thought. What chilled Sarah was the look in Molly's eyes. There was more than disdain there; there was hatred. It seemed like the men she was fighting could see it too. Sarah was no expert with a sword,but it seemed as though the attackers had become defenders fighting for their lives. "Molly," said Sarah, "we don't have time for this." Molly blinked. The mask of churning emotions fell away from her face. She slowed her flurry of steel, allowing her opponents an opportunity to withdraw. They backed away a few steps, then turned and ran. Molly tossed the broadsword on the ground, sheathing her own blade. She watched the men for a moment as they fled, then shook her head. "They'll regain their courage soon enough, and be back with friends." Syphar headed toward the shop, taking the coin purse from Molly as he passed. "I'll get what we need. Make sure the horses are ready to go."
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