Queen of Storms

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Queen of Storms Page 5

by Raymond E. Feist


  “I have to travel in the morning,” he replied.

  Her eyebrows shot up. “Why?”

  Master Bodai had given firm instructions after Hatu had seen those assassins speaking with this man, who had worn the clothing of a soldier of the One Church. Slowly he said, “I cannot tell you.”

  Hava’s face remained impassive, but her eyes searched Hatu’s face, seeking a clue about what was happening. Her training took over and she nodded slightly. “I’ll tell them the bathwater will be hot in a few minutes.” She left him alone in the bathhouse.

  Hatu watched her vanish through the door and wondered if he should have said more. Again he considered how the line between truth and lies could be blurred, and the fact that she was his wife—or would be once their marriage took place at the midsummer festival—only because she was ordered to play the role. That made him painfully aware that he had been told his obligation to Coaltachin was over with his return to Baron Daylon Dumarch, yet at the same time he was to continue as an agent for the Kingdom of Night. If his duty to Coaltachin was over, why did Master Bodai order him to continue as if it were not?

  Hatu had no ready answer to this conflict he knew would only grow inside him. He knew a time might come when he would have to elect one side or the other. Whichever choice he made might end his relationship with the woman he loved.

  2

  An Unplanned Event and a Surprise Reunion

  Gwen entered the forge and Declan asked, “How is it?”

  She didn’t need to ask what “it” was. She nodded and smiled. “Fine. To be truthful, Hatu’s fixed up the place far better than Da ever did.” She fell silent, looking puzzled.

  “What?”

  “There’s something about that man.”

  “Hatu?”

  “Yes. Hatushaly. It is a bit of a foreign name, isn’t it?”

  Declan crossed to the forge and began putting his tools away. “Well, I expect there are places where Declan sounds foreign.”

  She nodded. “I like him, in a way. I also like Hava; she’s been kind.” She let out a slow breath. “And as I said, the inn has never looked this good. They even cleaned out the cold cellar and completely organized the bathhouse. I’d bathe there myself.”

  Declan had never used the bathhouse, having the luxury of a tub of his own in the house that came with the smithy. But he’d heard stories, and judged Leon, Gwen’s father, to be a less than fastidious innkeeper. Given how run-down the place that passed for an inn in his home village of Oncon was, Declan hadn’t been put off by the condition of the Three Stars. He rather enjoyed it there, but the truth was that what he had enjoyed was Gwen’s company, and it didn’t matter much where that was.

  “Speaking of bathing,” he said, “I could do with a wash. Would you mind heating some water while I clean up?” He glanced out the door where the afternoon light was starting to fail. “Or if you need the time to get supper ready, I’ll bathe when I’ve finished.”

  “Supper?” she said as if remembering something. “Actually, we’ve been invited to dine at the inn tonight, as Hava and Hatu’s guests.”

  “That’s kind of them,” said Declan. He smiled broadly. “So, if you’d please heat up some water for me, I’ll be as clean as that new inn!”

  She laughed, one of the few times he’d heard a sound of genuine amusement from her since the murder of her father. “I’ll do that.” And off she went.

  Declan continued to put things away and wished Jusan was there to help, but he was down at Ratigan’s new freight yard arranging for a wagon to ship more swords south to Baron Dumarch. The order had surprised the young smith, for the baron had his own weapons smith in his keep. Still, it was a good order and would settle all of Declan’s costs for the coming half year, perhaps longer. For a moment Declan wondered if there was enough trade coming his way to take on another smith. Jusan was now a journeyman, and they didn’t have a proper apprentice . . . perhaps it was time.

  He finished up just as Jusan appeared at the door. Declan said, “So, are we set?”

  Jusan nodded. “Ratigan’s fellow . . . ah, Randal? I don’t know why I have a problem remembering names.”

  Declan frowned. It was something about Jusan that annoyed him—one of the few things—that he seemed almost unable to remember names of people until he’d met them several times.

  Jusan said, “Anyway, we have a wagon ready to leave the day after tomorrow.”

  “Not tomorrow?” asked Declan.

  “No,” said Jusan. “Seems Ratigan had only two in the yard, both due to leave at first light, and . . . Randal said there were more wagons bringing up goods from Marquenet late today, and as they’ve just made the trip and back, he’s going to rest the horses for a day before they make it again, so they’ll be free the day after.”

  Clapping Jusan on the shoulder, Declan said, “Business is good all over, it seems.” Jusan smiled at that. “It’s time to bring in an apprentice, I’m thinking.”

  Jusan paused, then nodded. “I wouldn’t say no to an extra pair of hands to do the work around here.”

  “Well, you were a poor apprentice,” Declan said jokingly, “but perhaps you can train up a better one.”

  “Funny,” said Jusan, showing he didn’t think so.

  “I’ll spend a bit of time in the city when I get there and ask Gildy if he or the other smiths have a boy who’s ready to train. If not, we’ll ask around here.”

  “Jacob Berry’s son, Callum, seems a likely lad. He turns up now and again and asks questions.”

  Declan said, “Curious type, then?”

  “A bit scrawny.”

  “So were you when you first arrived,” said Declan, amused. “Solid work and good food will put some muscle on him.”

  Jusan nodded. “When you get back, then.”

  “If I haven’t found a more likely boy, we’ll have a word with Callum Berry. Now I’m off for a bath, and Gwen and I are going to eat at the inn.”

  “It’s open then,” said Jusan with a satisfied nod. “I’ll tell Millie we’re on our own.”

  “Where is she?”

  “Down at the market, I think,” said Jusan. Millie had been the other barmaid at the inn when it had burned down and had been terrified to the point of refusing to leave the house Declan and Gwen shared with Jusan and her. She was slowly recovering, and her being at the market alone was a good sign that healing was under way.

  “That’s good,” said Declan. “Now finish closing up: I’m off for a hot bath.”

  Jusan smiled and started on the work, while Declan walked briskly toward the house, as if truly eager for a bath. Then Jusan realized Declan would be alone with Gwen for a while and chuckled softly. Two young couples sharing close quarters had put a strain on privacy, so the journeyman smith decided he’d take some time organizing the smithy and wait until Millie returned from the market before entering the house.

  The common room was busy. Word had spread that the Inn of the Three Stars was again open, and many townspeople had decided to stop in and see how the repairs had turned out.

  Hatu was learning quickly that working behind the bar was a great deal more demanding than he had anticipated, for while a few folks had just dropped in to look around and then departed, many decided to have at least one ale before heading home.

  Gwen and Declan entered the chaotic common room, and Gwen had taken one look before motioning Declan to take a seat, then hurrying over to Hava’s side. The new proprietors of the inn appeared overwhelmed, and Gwen saved Hava from dropping a large platter of food on the floor. A quick consultation ended with Hava handing the tray to Gwen, who turned and carried it to a corner table where four men waited to be served, while Hava disappeared back into the kitchen.

  Declan observed the commotion and saw his wife enter the kitchen. He waited a minute, then rose and worked his way through the growing crowd as more people entered and finally got behind the bar next to Hatu. “Lend a hand?” he asked.

  Hatu looked at
him with gratitude. “Where did they all come from?”

  Declan chuckled. “We should have expected this.” Without another word to Hatu, he turned to three men clamoring for attention and took their orders. Within a few minutes the pace at which drink orders were filled increased noticeably. After the demand for service died down, Hatu exclaimed, “Thank you!” He grinned. “I’d still be swamped had you not joined in.”

  Declan smiled. “I came here so often courting Gwen, I often lent a hand behind the bar. So, you’ve never tended a bar before?”

  “No,” said Hatu with a rueful tone, drying his hands on a bar rag. “I thought it would be simple. I’ve not frequented many taverns, and I’ve never seen one this crowded.”

  “They get like this once in a while in a big city,” said Declan as he started piling up empty mugs next to a big wash pan, sunk into a counter behind where they stood. “Today, it was curiosity. You may see a bit of a rush tomorrow when those who couldn’t come tonight decide to see how it is, but it’ll die down. Once in a while, if a large trading company—eight, ten wagons with teamsters and helpers—or a company of soldiers comes through, it will get very busy, but most days you’ll be bored. Still, even when Leon owned it, as run-down as it was, it was the most popular inn with the local folk. With all the talk of your opening, people have started calling the road outside ‘Three Stars Road.’ That’s a thing, right?”

  Hatu looked amazed and nodded slightly. “Indeed.”

  Without thinking, Declan started washing mugs and stacking them on a draining board. Hatu realized he was just standing there and took his rag and began wiping down the bar, just as another group entered the tavern and pushed its way through the crowd to order drinks. Hatu turned to Declan and said, “I think we’ll be eating late tonight.”

  Declan laughed.

  More than two hours went by before the majority of the townspeople departed, leaving the four friends alone in the common room with only the two strangers who had arrived earlier quietly occupying a table in the corner. Declan and Hatu had marked them earlier in the evening, and both had seen them quietly observe everyone who entered and departed. Neither spoke of it.

  As they cleared the empty tables and piled up plates, bowls, and mugs, Hatu looked at the mess and reckoned he’d be cleaning for a couple of hours after his guests left.

  Gwen and Hava entered from the kitchen carrying plates of bread, fruit, a bit of sliced pork, and a sliver of cheese. Setting them down on the table, Hava said, “I need to go to the market early tomorrow. We have barely enough for the four of us!” She sighed. “Is it always like this?” she asked Gwen, her tone somewhere between amusement and concern.

  Gwen smiled and shook her head.

  Declan said, “As I told Hatu, the town turned out to see how things stood.” Glancing around at the room with chairs out of place, some tables pushed aside, and a few dishes on the floor, he added, “This was special. It’ll start calming down tomorrow.”

  “Still,” said Hava, as she sat and motioned for Declan and Gwen to do likewise, while Hatu returned with a pitcher of wine and four glasses, “we need food.”

  Hatu said, “I was planning on riding down to Marquenet in a few days to pick up some things, but I think I made four . . . no, five trips to the cold cellar. We are out of cheese, have no sausages, no fruit except oranges, and I think our spices could use a bit of restocking as well.”

  Gwen held up her goblet and said, “You did well enough for the madness that descended on you tonight.”

  “If you and Declan hadn’t pitched in, we’d still be serving, assuming people didn’t leave in disgust over the wait.” Hava looked at Hatu. “I think we need to hire someone.”

  Gwen glanced at Declan and said, “Well, with Millie doing most of the work around our house, I could spend a little time here and help until you find someone.”

  Hava reached out and squeezed Gwen’s shoulder. “That would be appreciated more than I can say.”

  Declan said to Hatu, “I’m shipping a wagon of swords down to the baron the day after tomorrow. Why don’t you ride with me and get everything you need and bring it back, rather than order it and wait for it to be shipped up?”

  Hatu glanced at Hava, and, as he did so, let his gaze pass over the two men who were sitting opposite him behind his wife and Gwen. He considered a day’s delay in sending word to Coaltachin of these two men’s arrival and thought he also might learn a thing or two more. “That’s a welcome idea. Yes, I’ll ride down and back with you, and I’ll pay the freight back.”

  Declan smiled. “I was hoping you’d say that.”

  All four of them chuckled.

  As they ate and chatted, the two men in the corner rose and went upstairs, and both Hatu and Declan tried to observe them without looking obvious.

  Hava noticed Hatu’s intense expression. “What?”

  Hatu whispered, “Just watching our last guests going up.”

  Hava instantly understood. “Fine. When we’ve eaten we can finish cleaning down here.”

  “Unless someone else shows up for a drink.” Glancing at Gwen, Hatu asked, “When did your father close up for the night?”

  Gwen laughed. “As long as someone had the coin to pay for another drink, we were open. Da would close up after the last customer left.”

  “So, sometimes late,” observed Hava.

  “Sometimes when the sun was coming up,” answered Declan. “There were nights I was supposed to spend time with Gwen after she finished, but I’d have to give up and go home so I wouldn’t be useless at the forge the next day.”

  Gwen gave him a mock disapproving look and said, “Faint heart.”

  As Declan and Gwen began to stand, a familiar voice from the doorway shouted, “Declan!”

  All four turned to see Ratigan entering the inn. “Look who I found!”

  He was accompanied by a tall woman with light brown hair, her suntanned face set in a broad grin. Despite grey dusting her hair, and age lines in her sun-darkened face, she moved vigorously as she ran forward to throw her arms around the smith, hugging him tightly for a long moment.

  Gwen’s expression became very still: this woman’s greeting was clearly one born of close familiarity.

  Declan said, “Roz!” He gripped her shoulders, but then caught a glimpse of Gwen’s face and stepped back. “How . . . What are you doing here?”

  Rozalee smiled broadly at his clumsily hidden embarrassment. “Which of these pretty girls is your betrothed?” she asked, poking him playfully in the chest.

  Flushing with embarrassment, Declan beckoned Gwen to his side. “Gwen, this is an old friend from Oncon, Rozalee. Roz, this is my fiancée, Gwen!”

  Roz smiled and gave Gwen a hug. Gwen looked uncomfortable.

  Declan glanced at Ratigan, who grinned at him. He’d thank the teamster when they were alone for telling Roz that Declan was now betrothed. He could see that Gwen was already wondering, so it was just as well that Roz had not given him her usual greeting of a bear hug while grabbing his ass or a deep kiss, let alone saying some of the things she used to say to him in public, or he might not have a fiancée after tonight.

  Roz let go of Gwen and held her at arm’s length. “You’re a beauty, for certain.” She glanced sidelong at Declan. “You know you can do better than him, don’t you?” she said, grinning.

  Hava and Hatu watched the meeting with barely contained amusement, and at last Hatu said, “Welcome to the Inn of the Three Stars. Ale?”

  “Never thought you’d offer,” said Ratigan, grabbing two chairs from another table and moving them around so they could all sit in a semicircle.

  As Hatu filled six flagons with ale, Declan said, “How’s Jack?” Quickly he explained to Gwen, “Roz’s husband.”

  “Dead,” said Roz in a matter-of-fact tone.

  Declan’s expression instantly changed from a self-conscious smile to one of shock and disbelief. After a moment, he regained his composure and asked, “What happened?”
/>   Roz turned to Gwen and said, “Your lad here saved my life. I got into it with a bunch of bandits working for that bastard Lodavico, and after I gutted a couple, they got me. Declan came out and found me, nursed me a bit, and he and Ratigan loaded me up into my wagon and took me back to my husband. Did you know that?”

  Softly Gwen said, “No, he never said.”

  “That’s like him,” replied Roz. “It’s funny, but there I was hanging by a thread for a bit and finally got some strength back, and just as I was getting up and about, old Jack dies in bed. Heart gave out, I expect.” To Declan she added, “It was the way he would have wanted it. I was starting to catch up on the business, but he was . . . in the company of his most devoted servant.”

  Suddenly Declan realized that Jack had died in the arms of the pretty maid he had met. The unexpected image of the fat old man dying on top of that young girl almost caused Declan to burst out laughing, and only by an act of pure will did he stop himself. He gulped air and let out a long breath, his eyes watering a tiny bit. Finally he was able to say, “I expect you’re absolutely right, Roz. That’s the way he would have wanted it.”

  Seeing Declan fighting for control, Roz looked at Gwen. “Jack and I had an . . . unusual marriage. We had no children, and I ran the shipping, drove the wagons—did all the bargaining out of town—while Jack took the orders from merchants in Ilagan,” she said, naming the capital city of the neighboring kingdom of Ilcomen. “Anyway, I expect it’ll be different with you and this lout. Children underfoot in no time, I’m sure.”

  “It’s not that I’m not pleased to see you, Roz, but what brings you to Beran’s Hill?” Declan said. “Certainly not just to visit me and Ratigan.”

  For a second her expression turned serious. “I do owe you two my life, and I’ll never forget that, but I’ll let my partner explain.”

  “Partner?” asked Declan, looking at Ratigan.

  Hatu had placed an ale in front of each of the other five and sat next to Hava, the two of them content to silently watch the others, though Hatu occasionally glanced at the stairs against the possibility one of their two guests might appear.

 

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