The Continuing Adventures of Draco Moonbeam

Draco stayed at the inn a total of two days. Having arrived late in the morning, he rented a private room and slept for a couple of hours. It helped calm the pounding headache of the insomnia, the poisoned stew, and Anda’s heavy club.

When he awoke it was afternoon already. He wasn’t in the mood to travel again so he decided to wait until the next day to leave. He took the afternoon to read some poetry and to ponder the events of the previous night.

The witches were a complete surprise. They had seemed like simple innocent country girls, but that image belied their savage nature and the treachery they dealt to their guests.

Sacrificing the unsuspecting traveler to some unknown dark being? Drinking their still hot blood? Eating them? That thought still turned his stomach.

But as horrible a scene as that was, it paled in Draco’s estimation to the torture that Anda Brink went through.

He could hardly fathom the unrelenting nightmare the old man lived daily for fifteen years. To have to seek out the victims for the hags, to bring them to the slaughter, to participate in the cruelty. And all that because he was under their spell?

Anda said it himself. He was the plaything on the strings of a puppet master. His thoughts were not his own. His feelings were hijacked. His will was stolen.

What then is a man who has lost the ability to think for himself? Who couldn’t feel emotion? Whose very actions were mandated by another?

He isn’t even a man. He is a tool.

Draco Moonbeam deeply pitied the old man. All those years lost. All that freedom surrendered. It made him hate the witches even more than the human sacrifices.

Draco’s thoughts turned to his mission. Was Queen Semna a witch also? Did she usurp the crown by casting a hex on the entire nation? Did she put all its citizens under a spell for her own nefarious reasons? Draco hoped that wasn’t the case. Such a witch would be terribly powerful, and not easily dealt with. He wasn’t sure he could handle someone so adept at charm magic.

After an afternoon of rest, Draco heard the innkeeper announce that dinner would soon be served. Draco took a seat at a table by a window.

Shortly afterwards, a few of the local farmers arrived to take in some drink before going back home to their families. They went straight to the bar. Draco listened out of curiosity to their conversations.

“Did you hear about the highway thieves?” one younger man said to his drinking partner.

“No. Thieves? I hadn’t heard a thing.”

The first continued, “Up north about 30 miles or so, along the highway to Voridia a band of thieves have taken up camp. Several merchant caravans have been laid waste. None were left alive.”

The second asked, “Well, I guess no one will be coming through there until the Queen’s guards arrive to arrest them. But if no one was left alive, how do they know it was bandits?”

A good question, thought Draco to himself.

“Well, the bodies were left behind. Lots of signs of a struggle. The goods were carried off. Or at least they didn’t have anything of value after the attack.” The first guy paused to knock back his ale.

“Well, they could have been attacked by wolves or something.”

The first guy responded, “wolves don’t take the gold or the goods. Plus the horses weren’t found. Wolves would have killed them and left carcasses.”

“The thieves took the horses?” asked the second man.

“Apparently so.”

“So if they took the goods, the gold, and the horses, there must’ve been a number of them.”

The first answered. “Yes. And they were probably organized. Anyway, if you’ve got to go to Voridia for anything it’d be best to take the west road and detour around through High Church. I’d rather travel an extra couple of days and arrive late than never to arrive at all.”

“Sounds smart,” agreed the second man.

Draco took a mental note of that information but didn’t join in the conversation. He’d rather leave the investigation and arrest of the highwaymen to the Queen’s army.

He decided to take the detour.

But he did think it was curious because according to Mallon, this kind of criminal activity was rare since Semna became Queen of the White Kingdom.

Wasn’t the whole kingdom enjoying a prolonged period of peace?

Draco took in his meal and drink. His thoughts were troubled. But he ate in silence and later retired to his room where he slept a full night without waking up once.