Trouble At The Scholar's Inn

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Trouble At The Scholar's Inn Page 3

by J. E. Sandoval


  * * * * * * *

  Janelle had to go back to the kitchen twice as one of the criminals went back for refills. The men were slurring their words a bit and stepping hard. Will’s sabotage was going well. After about an hour, one of the men got restless and began to wander around. He walked into the men’s bath. After a few minutes, he came into the linen storage room.

  He walked over to the pile of linen and looked at it curiously.

  It was now or never. Janelle smiled and dropped the noose around his neck. She braced herself and planted her feet on the crate. With a powerful kick, she pushed the trunk off of the support beam.

  The criminal looked up, but it was too late. His neck snapped and he was pulled to the rafters. The trunk landed on the linens with a dull thud.

  Janelle pulled his twitching body up and laid it across the main support beam. She cut the rope and dropped it on the far side of the trunk. Quickly, she went and glanced down into the common room. It looked like none of them had heard. She went back and jumped down into the storage room. Untying the rope from the trunk, Janelle climbed back up onto the rafters, and went over to the body. She did a quick search. Coins, which she set aside for later, a cheap dagger, and a sword. The sword might be worth a few silver. Janelle then felt into his pockets. Her fingers touched on a small vial. She pulled it out and looked at it. Unfortunately, it was too dark to read. Putting it in her pouch, she headed back over to the kitchen.

  She set the sword and the spare dagger on a rafter, and then jumped down into the kitchen.

  “Did ye get one?” Holle asked.

  “Yes! It worked perfectly!” She examined the vial, but there were no markings on it.

  “What ye be havin’ there?”

  “I don’t know. I found it on the body.”

  “Here,” Holle said, extending her hand.

  Janelle handed her the small vial.

  Holle gently popped the small cork out of the vial and took a small sniff. “This be dirgeroot!” She corked the small bottle and handed it back to Janelle. “Get it in one ah’ their drinks n’ the bastard ‘ll be dead in seconds.”

  Janelle nodded, putting the vial back into her pouch. “Good to know. Boost me up.”

  Holle cupped her hands and boosted Janelle up to the rafters.

  Taking her usual path, Janelle moved over the storage room, and then headed towards the main support beam. She glanced down at the men in the common room. Most of them were seated, munching on salty-sticks and sipping their ale.

  She waited.

  After about ten minutes, one of the men stood up. “I gotta be getting out of here, boss.” He walked towards the privies.

  Janelle held her breath as he walked into the washroom, and then passed under her. He sat his tankard of ale on the small table against the west wall and walked into the men’s privy.

  Janelle removed the small vial from her pouch and tied it closed. She hooked her legs as best she could around the rafter and lowered herself until she was upside down. Gingerly, she took the cork out of the vial and poured the liquid into the tankard. She flexed her abs until she could grab a rafter and lifted herself back up. Corking the empty bottle, she set it aside and waited.

  A few seconds later, the man came out, pulling up his pants. He then grabbed his tankard and drained the contents. He went to walk out of the washroom when he suddenly dropped his tankard and grabbed his throat. He began staggering around, desperate to breathe, but his throat had closed.

  Janelle jumped down. He saw her and reached for his sword, but before he could get it out, his eyes rolled back in his head and he slumped forward. Janelle caught him and pulled him over to the lady’s privy. She opened the door and stuffed him inside. After closing the door, she grabbed the tankard, and using the small table, she boosted herself back up into the rafters. Three down, but a seven against two fight would still be a losing proposition.

  Mitchell once again picked up the two empty pitchers, so Janelle hurried back to the kitchen and jumped back down, just as he opened the door.

  He handed the pitchers to Will. “Here, refill. And you,” he said, pointing to Kat, “the fire is starting to wane. Get out there and get it blazing again.”

  She nodded and hurried out of the kitchen.

  Janelle decided she needed to provide a distraction for Will, so he could spike the ale. She walked up behind Mitchell. “You could just throw the logs on the fire yourself instead of hassling poor Mrs. Brewer.”

  He turned to face her. “And you could shut that mouth of yours before you get slapped.”

  Janelle put her hands up, nodded, and silently sat back down on her stool.

  Will handed the refilled pitchers to Mitchell, who left.

  A minute later, Kat returned to the kitchen and shut the door behind her. “Where do we stand?” she asked.

  “Three down. I stuffed the body in the women’s privy, so most likely no one will find it,” Janelle said. “I want to get two more before we try anything direct.”

  “Do ye ‘ave anythin’ else in mind?” Holle asked.

  Janelle shook her head. “I’m going to have to start being more direct. I’ll find my opportunities. Up we go.”

  Holle lifted Janelle back up into the rafters. Retracing her route, she headed back over to the main support. She didn’t have much time. Even with their drinks being spiked, they would soon start noticing their dwindling numbers. She glanced down at the group. Three plus the leader were playing a game of cards. Mitchell was wandering around, sipping his drink, while another was messing around with Kat’s lute near the small stage. She lost track of the seventh, but spotted him wandering around in the women’s bath.

  Reaching the main support beam, she sat down, crossing her legs, making sure she was in the shadows, and waited.

 

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