Sky Elf: The Anti-Matter Chronicles (The Matter Chronicles Book 2)

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Sky Elf: The Anti-Matter Chronicles (The Matter Chronicles Book 2) Page 10

by P. G. Thomas


  “Water, one silver. Crazy are you? Glass of ale, how much if you had?”

  “Half a gold.”

  “Serious you are not?”

  The innkeeper grew tired of talking in dwarf, “Friend, I told you that farms are few, and supplies are slow getting to the distillers. When supply is low, prices are high, as I only buy from respectable brewers. There are other places that will serve you, and they may even call it ale or mead. If you figure out what it is, please let me know.”

  “Do you have any free rooms?”

  The innkeeper turned to Alron, responded in elf, his voice sounding song like, “I have empty rooms, but not any are free. How many do you need?”

  Knowing their party was large, when the guards had said the town was full, Alron was afraid they might have to find several inns to house everybody. “There are twenty, so ten rooms unless you have common rooms.”

  “Not any common room will you find here. Each room has two beds and not bugs. Friend, I have good news, as rooms cost less than beer. Rooms in town are many, beer all seek. Fifteen gold per week, but that includes space and feed for your animals.”

  “Friend, that is still steep.”

  The innkeeper, his day being long, his patience growing short, replied in midlander. “There may be cheaper in town but not cleaner. Out back, I have a secure stable to keep your mounts safe. If you want some free advice, don’t leave them unattended, especially at night. They will be easy to find in the morning. Just follow the smell of fresh meats cooking from the backstreets.”

  “What about fresh sheets and washing facilities?” asked Lauren.

  The innkeeper looked at the tall child standing in the doorway. Finally, somebody who speaks midlander! “We change the sheets once a week, and there is a common washroom at the end of the hall. It has a tub with a built-in water tank above the fireplace. Just start a fire, and twenty minutes later you have a hot bath ready for you.”

  “We’ll take the rooms,” replied Lauren, “Settle up with the good man.”

  “That price does not include food or drink.”

  “We’ll take the rooms,” Lauren replied, “I’ll let the others know.”

  “We never stood a chance,” said Aaro.

  “When she heard of the tub and hot water, the battle was lost.” Alron called to Bor and Panry, explaining about the high prices, he tasked them to take up a collection from everybody.

  Eric had been listening outside the door, cleaning the blood from his armor, and called out to the innkeeper, “Ale, what size?”

  The innkeeper, working with his back to Eric, held up a sixteen-ounce mug.

  Eric looked at Bor, “How many in a keg?”

  Aaro and Bor, turning their backs, went through a weird sequence of charades, mimicking the size of a barrel and glass.

  “Dwarf with numbers have few skills,” advised Alron.

  Bor turned around, “At least six hundred, brother.”

  “I’ll be back.” Eric, heading out to the wagon, retrieved one of the kegs, then brought a second one in, “Will this cover rent?”

  Turning around, the innkeeper stared at the two large casks, and walking over to them, he popped the corks and tasted each, “Very well, six hundred mugs, three hundred gold, it looks about right.” The man should have been afraid of Eric, who wore the bloody armor and held the long sword, but he was more afraid of high taxes and no revenues, caused by the locked gates. Fresh beer in a dry town was the cure he needed for his stale sales.

  “You have now purchased a month’s stay. Should you leave early, there is no refund.”

  Eric looked at the innkeeper, “Food expensive?”

  “Crops are few—”

  “I heard,” he said raising his hand. With that, he went back to the wagon, retrieving the third keg. “Food for the month?” The innkeeper nodded in agreement. Then Eric retrieved the final barrel, “Innkeeper, mark as private. Our group only. Do not serve others. Displeased, I will be.”

  Alron and Panry returned from the wagon with two of the wooden boxes, “I believe gifts are customary for good service? The first box if for you. Please make sure that we receive your best service. The second you shall mark as private.”

  After opening the case, he sampled the contents of one of the bottles, “Friend, with this kind of currency, I hope you stay a long time. If you are hungry, I will open the kitchen.”

  Nodding, Alron went out to the wagon, “We have settled our debt, and ten rooms we have. Panry and I shall be in the first, Gingaar and Earth Daughter in the next. Dawnfalcons, Erust, and Cethail, you shall be across from Earth Daughter. Ironhouse, you will all face the street. The other rooms, choose like you sees fit. Take your mounts to the back stables, as space and food for them is included. A meal he shall prepare for us, so take your possessions to your rooms, and meet in the hall when your tasks are done. Until we determine otherwise, be cautious.”

  Doing as Alron instructed, they met in the dining hall a short time later. The innkeeper brought over mugs of ale, advising the food would follow shortly. Lauren, looking at Eric, in a hushed voice said, “You may feel the urge to celebrate, but not one story will you tell tonight. We don’t know where their loyalties stand. They may be foes, or foes may be amongst them so don’t boast. Also, nobody’s to call me Earth Daughter here: I’m Lauren. I know some of you may consider it disrespectful, but until we understand what’s happening, we need to be careful.” She scanned the group, “Twenty odd travelers I’ll give you that, but ordinary travelers. Okay?” She looked at Alron, “Say it.”

  “Lauren is right. For now, we shall act like she asks.”

  When the innkeeper brought over two huge platters of hot food, the weeks of cold field rations, fruit, and water had brought them to the brink of starvation. They now fought back, filling the void with savory meats, steamed vegetables, and more. There was no conversation at the table, as the words only interrupted the eating. When done, the hunger finally sated, they headed up to their rooms were warm beds embraced their restful sleep.

  Chapter 8

  Gingaar woke Lauren early the next morning, “I filled the tub with hot water. Go now, else I shall.”

  Lauren, stumbling down the hall with sleep still in her eyes, opened the door and saw the steaming water. Pushing a tear of joy back, she kneeled in front of it and hugged the warm tub. Lowering herself into the warm embrace of the hot liquid, she let out a moan of pleasure.

  When all of the Earth Guards burst into the hall, Gingaar was waiting outside the door, “She is safe, having a hot bath,” and they all returned to their rooms.

  Slowly over the next hour, the others made their way to the dining hall, with Lauren being the last to show. Hot bean juice and a selection of fried meats and vegetables welcomed them, being replenished as necessary by the innkeeper.

  “Last night, introductions we did not make. I am Alron.”

  “I am pleased to meet you. I am Pintar,” replied the innkeeper.

  “You have a fine establishment. Sit, talk with me.”

  Knowing what was happening, he sat down, “What would you like to know… friend?”

  “Pintar, did we not treat you well last night? Did we not reward you richly for your welcome? We had poor directions, became lost. We simply would like to know more about your town.”

  It was a lie Pintar had heard many times, as many times as the story he was about to repeat. “The town was started about ten years ago by our six mayors. To this day, they still squabble over its name, so the citizens have taken to calling it Newtown. Yes, I know it is not original, but we have more pressing matters than a name. Food is scarce, liquids even scarcer. Threats of the plague and the fort blocks our travel to the east, and all of those who have fled. What was once a simple frontier town has become a stop for the multitudes. I have no idea on how you gained access last night, and for that matter, I have no interest. Most are forced to the back. So many in such poor conditions, I have no idea how they live out there.”
/>   “Please explain in more detail, as we arrived from south and this is fresh news.”

  Pintar looked at him. Plausible, but I have heard it all before. You will have to try harder than that to pull the wool over my eyes. He leaned in close, lowered his voice, “Friend, I am in the hospitality business, and my single purpose is to help maximize your enjoyment during your stay. I am sure I can satisfy any need you have, but each transaction has a price. However, because you were so generous last night, and there is so little to tell, I will give you most of the information you seek for free. I have chores to do in the stables, and should you wish to join me, we can continue the conversation there.”

  Alron followed the Innkeeper to the stables, and once there Pintar started, “Like I said, Newtown, as the citizens call it, was started about ten years ago. Our six mayors financed the trip from the east, finding that pass, and brought numerous workers with them. With so much of the Newlands now farmed, lumber was in short supply. Having built this town, as time went by, they put up the walls and more buildings. I came out about five years ago when prices were still low. Even though I had made a small fortune on the Bright Coast, I did not like the feel of the town anymore, so I packed up my family. When we came here, I spotted this inn, which I purchased. In the beginning, life was good, so I had no complaints. Over the last couple of years, the traffic has increased: first hundreds, then thousands, and then tens of thousands showed up outside the gates. So many, the mayors became very selective about whom they let into the town. You will need to acquire a pass should you leave and want to return. The gates are only supposed to open for those with one, but others do find ways to gain entry. With each new wave of immigrants, stories of the plague increased. The outsiders will disperse over the coming years, but right now, the ratio of mouths to food is great. Many have fled the east, but the exact number is anybody’s guess. However, I would expect over a million now take refuge behind this town. We have room inside the walls to accommodate more, in fact, many buildings and lots are empty, and once a month, they hold auctions. The highest bidders can purchase land or buildings inside these walls, but according to our six mayors, the costs to maintain our standards are high, and so are the taxes they place on us. Should you be unable to meet your tax burden, they throw you out of the gates, confiscating your properties, which they then auction off. Some of the other innkeepers, me included, think the mayors are working to take over all of the inns. With the gates locked, our rooms remain empty. When your savings and occupancy rates are the same, they seize the inn for unpaid taxes. They took over two last week, and it is just a matter of time before they own all of them.”

  Alron nodded, “The citizens of this fine town, how would you describe them?”

  “We have everything from the high and mighty to those who rob them. To have accommodations inside these walls means you have wealth, so cutpurses and cutthroats walk beside the privileged. Two thief guilds fight over territories, but nobody is sure who is winning. The merchant’s guild is active, and they complain about everything; taxes, not enough of this, too much of that. With our leadership confused and divided, the six cannot agree on anything. Not even a town name. Go to one of the town meetings, and you will see what I mean.”

  “The town pass you spoke of. How would I acquire one?”

  “It depends. Do you want a real one or a fake? If you want a fake, do you want a poor one or a good one?”

  “What price is for the best?”

  “Since your currency seems to be liquid, a half bottle for one pass, and one bottle for the transaction.”

  “I need at least six passes.”

  “Then three for six, plus one for the acquisition,” replied Pintar. “You may think that I am taking advantage of you, but you are wrong. You paid a huge price for your month long stay, and I greatly appreciated your tip. I will treat you like royalty, but like I said my expenses are high. If you had not been so generous last night, the price of the passes would be much higher. As it is, I believe I am the only inn that has a fresh source in town. So this night, my dining hall will fill, and when I uncork the second keg, I will increase my prices, and the hall will still be full. I will not say where it came from, nor will I speak of you or your friends. I have already spoken to my staff and family. Should any ask about you, I will let you know. My best will be extended to you and your friends, but my services are not cheap.”

  “Pintar, is there be any other news that I need to know?”

  “During the day, the streets are safe. The night is a different story, but my payment to the thief guild ensures you are safe here.”

  “Do any here dress in black?” asked Alron.

  “You mean like those at the fort? No, none of the Royal House are here in town.”

  “I thank you for your help, and I understand your situation. Get me those passes and make sure they are of the highest quality. If they deny my access back, more than refund I will want.” Alron then returned to the dining hall. As much as he liked and trusted the innkeeper, he trusted nobody, making a mental note to ensure that at least one of the Earth Guards or Ironhouse brothers would always be at the inn. Calling a meeting with the nineteen, he reported what he was told, advising he felt they were safe here. After the meeting, Alron advised them to go for a tour of Newtown, arranging four groups of five, ensuring there was an equal distribution of dwarves or elves within each.

  Even though the main street was several miles long, numerous times, it passed through an open gate into another walled section, and Alron was uncertain where the original fort actually stood. Various shops on the main street sold food, clothing, footwear, supplies, and much more, but for every three shops that were open, one was vacant. Arriving at the end of the main street, the final gate, they were unable to believe the number of people that took refuge behind the town. Wanting a better look, they received permission from a guard to go onto the wall. Lauren was astounded as the camp, if you could call it that, extended beyond eyesight. Every type of structure from crude wooden shacks to tents sprawled across the landscape. Looking over the mass of displaced people, part of her smiled while another part of her wanted to cry. Mother, I’ve found your children.

  There may have been roads and paths in the crude settlement, but little if any organization had created this cesspool of anticipation. Having fled the plague in the west, they now found themselves trapped in a ghetto, constructed of discarded materials and hope. On the other side of the wall, an auction was taking place. While it was unclear to what items were on the block, Lauren surmised they must have been lungs or kidneys, based on the bids. One of the guards advised of three evections the night before, and that the mayors were anxious to welcome new taxpayers, even if they were temporary.

  Two hours after the first five left, Mirtza, John, Hakk, and the Dawnfalcons left for their tour. They saw similar sights, but walking along the street, John was surprised to see that most of the population was only five feet tall, five six at the most. Then he noticed a tall older man about five feet ten, dressed in simple clothes, having a short white beard on the far side of the street.

  Seeing the same person, Mirtza ran across the crude street followed by the others, shouting, “Gayne, Gayne, wait up.”

  The tall stranger turned to greet him, “Mirtza, we thought you were dead! How did you end up here? What happened to your beard?”

  “Gayne, that is a very long story. Why are you here?”

  “That friend is also a long story.”

  Hearing the others behind him, he introduced them, “Gayne was one of my teachers before I left on my extended trip. Are there others here?”

  “We will talk later. Where do you stay?”

  “We are at the inn on the third street from the east gate. What about you?”

  “I have other business to attend to, so I will stop by later today.”

  *******

  The last group had returned to the inn before the meal service was about to start, followed by numerous customers who h
ad also wandered in. Pintar had put the word out early that day that a fresh shipment of alcohol lay behind the bar, and the town, dry for over a month, was eager to sample the news.

  For more than seven months, the small group had been dependent on themselves for everything, and other than black-clad soldiers, they had never seen another living soul. Feeling uncomfortable being around so many people, the sounds of background conversations was unnerving, wondering if anybody was looking at them or trying to listen to their words. Experiencing a minor episode of culture shock, they found it hard not only to talk to others but even to themselves.

  When Gayne arrived, his presence at their table helped them to feel a sense of belonging, less like outsiders. Asking if he could join, when nobody raised any objections, Mirtza made the necessary introductions. He then offered to tell his story, which involved information that Alron was hesitant to share. “Since Gayne is our guest, let us hear his story, as your story we all know.”

  Mirtza poured his old teacher a mug of ale, as Gayne began his tale. “It all started right after you left. I led a dozen students out on a trip to the Newlands. Our journey, which was to last four months, was both educational and boring. When we headed back towards the Bright Coast, soldiers blocked our route. They claimed that they had the authority of the Royal House, but I have never heard of them. Informing us that a plague now infected the Bright Coast, they said that all passage back was blocked, ensuring nobody could spread the infection. I tried to explain to them that I was an educated man and may be able to help, but they denied us access back.”

  When Pintar brought over a huge platter of food, his wife brought over another tray with three pitchers of ale.

  “Going back to one of the larger towns in the Newlands, we continued our studies there. Two months later, we headed back, hoping that the plague had been contained. Instead, we came across black-clad soldiers in the Newlands, and no longer were they in the pass but hundreds of miles from it. Again, they blocked our passage, and we witnessed some citizens taken away in cages. We were advised they had tried to get into the infected lands, and they were being taken for evaluation. If free of plague, then released, but if signs of infection were present, then the Royal House healers would help them. The new soldiers were at least four hundred miles from where we last saw them and there were so many. It just seemed wrong.” Gayne paused for a refill, “Returning to our previous accommodations, we found so many leaving for the unknown, but we were troubled. To the east, we had the unknown of the plague and strange soldiers. To the west was just the unknown. I had no desired to head away from my school, but with everybody heading west, we felt there would be safety in numbers, so we followed everybody for months, eventually ending up here. For the last year, we have been trying to make the best of it. I guess it was about nine months ago when westbound travelers stopped, as the Royal House had built that fort.”

 

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