Tran hefted their bags into the room and then left them to settle in. Conli closed the door to give them a few moments of privacy and heaved out a breath, settling his back against the wood. “I’m ever so glad that we signed up with this caravan and not the other one.”
“Truly,” Denney agreed fervently. “Did you almost do that?”
“They were one of the options, yes. But I felt good about this guild because it had a female guildmaster as well as a respected Pathmaker.” He turned blind eyes on the wall dead ahead of them. “Did you get the feeling earlier that Guildmaster Maley and Miss Sylvie deliberately steered the conversation so that they could tell us about each member of the guild?”
Now that he said that…. “It did sort of feel that way.”
“I think they were trying to put you at ease. It was obvious that Wolfinsky and Tran both unnerved you.” Conli gave her a rueful smile. “Even I found them a little unnerving at first. Mercy, I didn’t think men could grow that size.”
“They’re giants,” she agreed fervently. “But apparently nice giants. They’ve both reassured me several times that I’ll be protected.”
“Yes, I’m very grateful for that.” Levering himself off the door, he went to one of his trunks. “I like the inn. It’s a very clean space.”
Denney looked about her and smiled in agreement. The twin beds were wider than usual, which her uncle would appreciate, and were both covered with thick quilts that looked new rather than worn. There was plenty of space in between the beds to maneuver, and it even had a window that let in lots of natural light. “I wish all inns were like this one.”
“Truly. Well, dinner or bath first?”
There was a knock at the door and Denney opened it to find Tran. “Sorry to interrupt this fast, but I have to ask, do you have something to protect your skin from the sun? How many water canteens do you have?”
“We have one canteen for each of us,” Conli replied, straightening from his suitcase, “and I can likely make up a salve for protection. Is this about the desert crossing?”
“Yes,” Tran confirmed. “You’ll need at least one canteen for each day, or at least a barrel of water that you can use to fill up the canteen. Also, I’d pick up some travel food if I were you, as the hard tack that the caravan boss considers ‘food’ is a little…questionable.”
Conli looked at her. “Should we shop, then, before getting a bath and dinner?”
“Probably the best option, we don’t want the shops to close.”
“Then let’s do that. Master Tran, can we go now or do you need to help with the caravan first?”
“Caravan’s settled,” Tran denied. “I can go now. In fact, Sylvie prefers that as she needs to pick up a few things as well.”
“What about the rest?”
“Ah, Siobhan, Grae, and Beirly are all having dinner with some business associates this evening.”
That’s right, the guildmaster had mentioned that on the way here. “They’ll stay there?”
“No, just for dinner,” Tran explained simply. “They’ll be back tonight.”
Sylvie popped in under Tran’s arm. “I’m going too.”
“Of course you are,” Tran drawled. “When do you ever miss a chance to shop?”
She grinned and didn’t deny it.
Denney hadn’t unpacked anything or taken off her coat, so she was ready to go. She and Conli stepped out of the room, locking the door behind them, and followed their guides down the stairs and out of the inn.
With a complete air of confidence, Sylvie led the way, straight into a market that looked somewhat lean of goods. Then again, it was late in the afternoon, most of the wares should be sold at this point.
Tran verified that neither had any experience with desert crossing, then took them under his wing and showed them the best things to buy—everything from hats to food. Sylvie piped up whenever she had a good find, then ruthlessly chewed down the merchants until they bought things for a song. She did it with such charm, in between teasing Tran, that Denney found herself warming up to the pair of them. They acted like siblings—which they obviously weren’t—and were equally kind to her.
Conli took the opportunity to buy several herbs and lotions that he didn’t have, then promptly opened up one of them and stayed Sylvie with a hand that didn’t quite touch her. “Miss Sylvie. I noticed earlier a rash on the back of your neck. How long as that been there?”
“A week?” she offered with a grimace. “I got bit by something earlier and it swelled up on me. It’s gone down, though; it’s only a minor aggravation now.”
“If you will permit…?” he held up the jar and with her nod, dipped in two fingers and smeared the white substance on liberally.
“I recognize the smell,” she mentioned to him. “And while that does help, it doesn’t make anything better.”
He stayed her again, this time with a hand on her shoulder. “Wait. I’m not done.” Corking the bottle, he drew out a different pouch and picked out two dark green leaves. They were flexible and shiny and somewhat familiar to Denney as she had used these before. He placed them directly onto Sylvie’s skin, the lotion almost gluing them in place.
“Ahhh,” Sylvie sighed in bliss. “That’s wonderful. Feels so much cooler. What did you do?”
“Tarragon leaves have a cooling effect against bites like this, but only coupled with this lotion,” Conli explained, tying the bag closed again. “The properties blend well together. Try not to move your neck much and let the leaves sit for a good hour. By morning, it’ll be faintly red, but the irritation will be gone.”
Sylvie turned and regarded him with narrowed eyes. “I think we need to keep you.”
Conli blinked at her, head drawing back in surprise. “Keep me?”
“I’m growing rather fond of the pair of you,” she said, expression not changing. “And we certainly would like to have a man with your skills.”
“Truly,” Tran agreed.
Her uncle was obviously flattered by this, as was Denney, although neither was sure how to react. “Well, but that’s your guildmaster’s decision, isn’t it?”
“Siobhan charms people into doing what she wants. She hasn’t asked you anything yet, but it will come.” Sylvie gave a sage nod, not in the least doubtful of her own words. “But we’ll let that go for now. Thank you, Master Conli, for the treatment. I do feel better. Tran, do we have everything we need?”
“I think so.”
“Then let’s return to the inn. I’m famished.”
Chapter Three
At dinner, Denney finally met Man Fei Lei. She had never met anyone like him before. He looked different than most people, his eyes slanted upwards at the corners, hair a pure sleek black, skin tone more yellow than pale. He greeted both of them with quiet courtesy and then sat at the round table, piling food onto his plate.
Sylvie sat next to her and leaned in to whisper, “Fei’s a bit shy with strangers. He’ll warm up to you.”
Was that the case? She understood, then, as she wasn’t very good with strangers either. Determined to not let it bother her, Denney also dug into her dinner, which was quite sumptuous. The beef stew was thick and filled with vegetables, rolls light and sweet, and the lemonade offered was freshly squeezed and tart. She found herself smiling as she chewed.
“I think at this point the only two you haven’t met are Beirly and Grae.” Sylvie leaned forward enough to snag another roll from the basket. “Beirly you’ll adore, at least I do. He’s like this short, redheaded bear that you want to cuddle with. He’s one of the best big brothers a girl can have.”
“He’s also our fixer in the guild,” Wolfinsky inputted, slapping Tran’s hand away from the basket. “Will you quit that, man, you’ve already had four.”
“And I want a fifth. Problem, Wolf?” Tran had a challenging look in his eye that said he was ready to go right then and there.
“Boys,” Sylvie reproved with a speaking look. “Over a roll? Really?”
Fei stood and offered, “I’ll get another basket.”
Watching him go, Wolfinsky said slowly, “He looks a little unbalanced to me.”
Everyone at the table immediately went on alert and turned to stare hard at the man.
“He is weaving a little,” Conli agreed, pushing his chair back from the table, although he didn’t stand. “Is that the initial sign?”
“Fei’s got more inherent balance than a cat,” Tran explained, not taking his eyes off the shorter man. “So when he starts tottering to the side like that, odds are he’s eaten something he shouldn’t.”
“We’ve weeded it down some to foods he knows he can have,” Sylvie explained, “as he didn’t have this reaction when he was growing up. So if he sticks to his native recipes, he’s fine. But when we’re on the road like this, he has to eat what’s available, and we regularly have problems.”
Fei came back to the table and dropped more than sat in the chair. His face had a distinct flush to it.
Reaching out, Sylvie put a hand to his forehead. “You’re not feverish. Oh dear. Fei, I think you need to stop eating.”
“Still hungry,” he protested, with a completely childlike pout on his face.
“Then I’ll find you something different,” she promised in a croon, “But don’t eat this anymore, alright?”
“Still hungry,” he repeated, more stubbornly, and before anyone could stop him he crammed a whole roll into his mouth.
Frustrated, Sylvie yanked his bowl away and shoved it to the other end of the table. “You get so stubborn about the silliest things when you get drunk.”
Conli rose and went to her side. “Perhaps if we can get him upstairs? I’ll do a full examination.”
Tran left his seat to help. “You think you can figure it out?”
“Likely not tonight, but it’s important to get a baseline and start gathering information.”
Eyes bouncing between people as they spoke, Denney failed to realize that she had caught Fei’s undivided attention. At least, until the man left his chair in a swift movement and clamped his arms around her shoulders, hauling her out of her own chair so he could comfortably cuddle with her, head next to hers.
“Eeeek!”
“Whoa, Master Conli,” Tran urged, catching her uncle by the arm. “He’s not going to do anything to her.”
Conli gave him a look that begged otherwise. “You call this doing nothing?”
“No, see, it’s like this—”
“I love you,” Fei sighed against her hair. “Your hair is so blonde, and eyes are so blue, and you smell nice.”
…Come again?
“What’s your name?” he asked her seriously, blinking as he tried to focus not an inch from her face. The effort was comical to watch and almost had her laughing despite her taut nerves.
“Denney,” she managed. “And, um, can you let go of me?”
“I can’t, because I love you.” So saying, he went back to hugging her, although he now stroked a hand down her hair.
“When Fei’s drunk,” Sylvie explained with a long sigh, “he loves everybody. The worst is Siobhan, he literally won’t let go of her, and he sings poetry to her about her red hair.”
“Off-key,” Wolfinsky grumbled. “So it could be worse.”
Denney felt very trapped in the man’s arms, although strangely not threatened. His touch was strong but not hurtful. In fact, he was being very gentle, just stubborn.
“Fei, brother dearest,” Sylvie came around to be more in his line of sight. “I thought you loved me?”
“I do love you, Sylvie-jae,” he assured her gravely.
“But you’re not hugging me.” Denney couldn’t see her, but there was a distinct pout in the woman’s voice.
The ploy worked and Fei abruptly let go of her, throwing his arms around Sylvie instead and hugging her tightly. “Your skin is so pale, and your hair so silky, I want to sing a song to your hair.”
“I will be glad to hear it,” Sylvie responded soothingly, already turning him for the stairs, “but let’s go up to your room so I can hear you better. It’s noisy down here.”
“Very noisy,” Fei agreed with a face, amiably going along. “Sylvie-jae?”
“You love me?” the woman guessed, not breaking stride.
“I love you. It’s because you smell nice.”
Denney let out a breath as they started up the stairs. That had scared her, but now she was starting to see the humor in it. “He really does say he loves everyone, doesn’t he?”
“It’s mostly the women,” Wolfinsky corrected, rubbing at his forehead. “He’s a very vocal drunk. Sorry if he scared you, Miss Denney.”
“No, quite alright,” she assured him. “At least he isn’t a violent drunk. He was quite gentle.”
“Oh, he can be violent,” Tran disagreed. “He got this way one night about a year and a half ago, and some street thugs tried to attack us. I’ve never seen a drunk man fight like that. It was impossible to predict how he would move. He looked like he would fall over any second and then would land an expert kick to someone’s nose. It was amazing.”
“But most of the time he’s this poetic drunk that loves everybody.” Shaking his head, Wolfinsky gestured toward the stairs. “Master Conli, if you’ll come up with me, I’ll try to get him to cooperate so you can take a look at him.”
“I certainly will, but…If its food he reacts to, we need to start compiling a list.”
Denney had played assistant to her uncle for nearly five years now, so she knew what to do. “Of course. I’ll get a notebook from upstairs.”
“No need,” Tran denied. “I’ll go with you and remember it for you.”
Conli gave him an odd look. “You can remember things like that?”
“Of course.”
That sounded odd to Denney. Could someone really remember anything that they were told, just because they wanted to? But Tran said it with such confidence that she felt it would be rude to question it. Conli seemed to be struggling with the idea as much as she was, but he waved Tran on, and they headed for the kitchens.
In order to get into the kitchen, she had to speak to the innkeeper first, and he was very alarmed to hear that one of his guests had reacted badly to the food. Tran, who accompanied her, had to explain the circumstances twice before the man would settle. Finally, he did call out the head cook, who was kind enough to rattle off the ingredients. Denney tried to keep up with the woman, but she spoke very fast. “I’m sorry, can you repeat after—”
Tran shook his head and assured her, “It’s fine. I remember what she said. I’ll repeat it for you later. Thank you, Madam, we do appreciate it. I know it’s a busy hour for you, so feel free to go back.”
“I will, thank ye.” She bobbed a curtsey but paused and said, “If ye need me to make something up special for that young man, tell me.”
“We will, thank you,” Conli said.
Denney looked up at Tran with some confusion. “You can remember everything she said?”
His expression was neutral as he returned her stare. “A Teheranian’s mind can retain anything that it chooses to. Could not your…mother? Father?”
“My mother.”
“Mother, then, do the same?”
“She was born in Quigg,” Denney explained. “I don’t think she ever learned the true culture of the Teherani. If she did, she never passed any of it down to me.”
“That is a shame. When a man forgets his origins, he loses his bearings. If you wish, as we travel, I will teach you the stories that you should have grown up on.”
Denney was delighted by this offer as she had been curious about many things while growing up, but had had no other resource than her mother and the other women in the brothel. And none of them would speak of Teherani at all.
“I would like that very much.”
“Then we’ll do so. But tonight, let’s focus on a certain drunk Saoleordian.”
ӜӜӜ
By the time Fei settl
ed, Siobhan, Beirly and Grae were back. Siobhan took in the news of her drunk enforcer with a pained expression and much sighing. After checking in on him herself, she ordered people to leave him alone and let him sleep.
In more or less mutual agreement, everyone gathered up clean clothes and went down for baths. As a general rule, Denney disliked public baths because it usually posed a danger to her. It was the one time that she could not easily have her uncle available, and it was difficult to time both of them exiting the baths in the same moment. Trouble tended to follow after she came out. But this time, she felt a little more at ease because of the two women with her. Siobhan especially was not a woman to be crossed. Denney knew it just by the way the woman carried herself.
This late in the evening, the water was only warm and not hot. She didn’t choose to linger, as Conli wasn’t known for taking long baths, and so after she had scrubbed up, she got out. The other women also weren’t in the mood to sit about in lukewarm water and dried off just as quickly. She might have gotten out too fast. Would the men be out already? If not, she would have to duck back inside for a while as she didn’t want to cross paths with the other Wynngaardian enforcers.
The thought had barely crossed her mind as she stepped into the cooler hallway. From the corner of her eye she saw a man step out of the men’s bathing chambers at the same time, pale skin and fair hair. Instincts screaming, she scrambled away, and in her terror went the wrong direction. It wasn’t until her back slammed into a corner that she realized her mistake, but by that point it was too late and he was blocking the exit.
“Whoa, whoa, Miss Denney! What’s wrong?”
Wolfinsky? Her paranoia had momentarily forgotten that he was Wynngaardian too, and that it would make sense for him to come out when she did. “I’m sorry—” she automatically apologized, but her nerves were still jittery and she couldn’t force herself to move out of the corner.
His expression was confused but then changed with dawning understanding and he did not attempt to move. She was very, very grateful about that last part. Siobhan and Sylvie stepped out into the hallway, took in the situation, and looked to Wolfinsky for an explanation. He gave them a frown and a shake of the head that spoke volumes all by itself.
Origins: A Deepwoods Book - a Collection of Deepwoods Short Stories (Deepwoods Series 0) Page 25