by Jackie Dana
“She’s become separated from her party, and just found her way here,” the first man explained before she could do so. “I don’t think she knows where she is,” he said, looking to her for confirmation.
As she nodded, the second man replied gruffly, “Aye, well, let me help you out, as if it would matter. You are in Bhoren, my lady—what there is of the place, forsaken as it is.” He tilted his head to get a better look at her. “That’s rather fine garb for travel over the mountains,” he said as he lifted the cloak with one finger to get a better look at her dress. Then he narrowed his eyes. “The Bhagali rarely have reason for a journey to this coast. Women such as yourself, even less. What might your business be?”
Kate knew caution was dictated, but she couldn’t stop shivering, and it was hard to devote the concentration necessary to come up with a plausible story. Wanting to change the subject and downplay her situation, she said, “look, I didn’t mean to bother any of you—I just needed to get out of the rain.”
“Are you in some sort of trouble?” This time it was a younger man who spoke, his voice soft and with a touch of innocence; it was a contrast to his bulky companion. He leaned forward, displaying jet-black hair and almond-shaped blue eyes, and she realized he was much younger, perhaps in his early twenties.
“No, I’ll be fine, I swear. It was really just the sudden storm that caught me off-guard.”
The fourth man had been leaning back in the shadowy corner, his hood shielding his face. He pulled his stool forward. With one hand, he pushed the candle towards her, and she caught sight of a large signet ring on his middle finger. “Hmm, interesting.” He kept his voice low as he spoke, and then he paused. With sardonic humor he continued. “Aye, of course. How could I expect anything less?”
He leaned over and whispered something to the giant redhead, who in turn tipped his head to look at her more closely. “How in Kerthal’s name...?” he began, a look of surprise on his face. “Oh, aye, she’s the one, all right. I’m surprised I didn’t recognize her right away.”
“What do you mean? I don’t know any of you.”
“Be that as it may,” the large man said, as he eyed her cautiously. “I suppose it’s good to see that you’ve recovered from your illness, Bhara.” He turned to his friend in the shadows. “Curious how she turns up so unexpectedly each time we meet, eh?”
The hooded man nodded in agreement. “I was thinking the same thing.”
Kate looked from one man to the next. What were they talking about? They couldn’t know her—she had never seen them before tonight.
The first man also seemed confused by the comments of his friends, and he tipped his head to examine her features more closely. Then he sucked in his breath. “You’re right. It’s her.” He rubbed his lips thoughtfully. “Perhaps she truly does not remember us.”
“Ah, do you really think so?” the red-haired man replied, his eyes never leaving Kate as he took a sip from his mug. “Well, at least she’s here alone.”
“Aye, but we must be on our guard, given the company she keeps.” Then the hooded man turned back to her. “You attended the recent quantrill with Aldrish Rynar, did you not?”
The quantrill? Oh crap. So they weren’t just toying with her. They really had seen her before. Her heart began pounding at the base of her throat.
Before she could reply, the young man spoke again. “Truly? You know this woman?”
“Nay, I know her not,” the hooded man admitted, “for despite having seen her on two previous occasions, we were never introduced.” He dragged the candle back to the center of the table. “It is time we rectify that. Your name, Bhara?”
She took a deep breath. So far no one had tried to harm her. She needed allies, if she was going to figure out where she was and how to get back to people she knew, so she decided to take a risk. “My name’s Kate, and yes, I was at the quantrill. Did I meet you there? I must admit, I’ve met so many people in the past few days that it’s entirely possible I’ve forgotten. Or maybe you’re Senvosra, and saw me in the keep?” she added, using the term for the royal soldiers that had been all over the keep.
The hooded man laughed, and as he did, the hood slipped back. She immediately recognized the face, and she sucked in a quick breath, followed rapidly by jumping from the stool, knocking it over in the process.
“Nay, I am not Senvosra.” Her sudden response seemed to amuse him further. “I surmise that you now recognize me as well.”
“Dosedra Arric,” she whispered, so quietly that her voice barely carried over the table. “I had no idea…”
He bowed his head politely. “I understand. Usually I would say that I was pleased to make your acquaintance, but…” he held his tongue as he pulled the hood back over his head, “I’m not at all certain I should be, this time.”
She nodded, recognizing the awkward nature of this encounter, and wrapped the borrowed cloak tightly around her. This was definitely an unfortunate turn of events. In the few days she had been in Sarducia, she already knew that this man had few friends here, least of all his own brother, the king. Rynar had even hinted that he might be dangerous. And yet... here he was, and she was alone, with no clue how to proceed, and no one to speak on her behalf.
Without putting much thought into it, she stepped backwards, towards the door. Distance was her greatest ally now. Unfortunately, her exodus was quickly stalled when the red-haired man blocked her path with a couple of well-timed steps.
“Perhaps you would be so kind as to explain why you’re following us, Bhara?” he asked. His question was politely posed, but clearly meant as a demand.
“What?” She stammered, coming completely undone at the ludicrous assumption. “I don’t have any reason to follow you—why would I want to do something like that? I don’t know any of you, other than the Dosedra... well, I know who he is, but like he said, we never met.” She realized she was babbling, and tried to abandon the conversation before things got any worse. “I’m really sorry that I bothered you, and I think I should just get going. Let me check to see if it’s still raining and then I’ll be on my way...”
Finding her plea unacceptable, the red-haired man shook his head, pointing his arm towards the table, commanding her to return. “Bhara, I am quickly losing my temper,” he stated, his teeth bared. “Your actions are far from innocent, as proven by your pathetic attempts to escape. Before you go anywhere, you owe the Dosedra an explanation for why you are here tonight.”
Kate held her breath, entirely paralyzed with uncertainty. “But I—I don’t have one. I didn’t know he was here. I just wanted to get out of the rain.” She was shaking visibly now, though she wasn’t sure whether it was still from the cold or from newfound fear. Be strong, she told herself. It took everything in her power not to completely break down in tears, but she kept her head up and stood her ground. “Just let me go.”
The young man with the black hair scrambled from his stool and caught her gently by the arm. “Never mind him,” he said, and reached for her hand. “None of us will harm you. Please, come back to the table.”
“No, I need to go.”
“Nay, lady, please,” he entreated. “You’re freezing. I can hear it in your voice. You won’t survive the night if you go back outside now in your wet clothing, and there is no other decent shelter for a half-day’s journey. Come, on my word, you will be safe with us. Tell us your story, and maybe we can help you out.” He blinked his eyes slowly, doing his best to appear non-threatening. “I’m Nyvas,” he offered with a bit of a grin. “You can trust me.”
“Now, boy,” the red-headed man cautioned her new champion, who even now was leading her back to the table. “Do not say too much to this one. We still don’t know her motives here.”
Nyvas winked at her. Then he turned to Dosedra Arric. “What could she do?”
The Dosedra shrugged. “Ah, at this point, she knows plenty already. Names aren’t likely to make anything worse.”
Taking that as his cue, Nyvas
continued with his introductions as he bent down to right the stool she had knocked over. Pointing over his shoulder at the man who had blocked her path, he said, “that’s Fantion. He keeps us all in line,” he added with a slight smile. “Of course, you have already met Lysander, having relieved him of his cloak. And as I said a moment ago, I’m Nyvas.”
Fantion placed one hand on his shoulder. “That’s enough for now.”
“Aye,” the Dosedra said, his voice remaining low. “Bhara, even from where I sit, I can see you’re shivering. You have need of dry clothing, and from your account, a place to sleep for the night as well.” Before she could protest, he had already stepped to a door at the back of the room, where a rapid knock got the innkeeper’s attention. After a short conversation involving the parting of several coins, he rejoined the others at the table. “He says he has a small room upstairs that you may use for the night,” he said to her without further ceremony. “His wife will provide you with dry clothing for the evening as well.”
“You’re not going to force her to tell us why she’s here?” Fantion asked his friend.
Forestalling a response from the Dosedra, she replied, “honestly, this is all just a misunderstanding. I promise to leave you alone.”
To that comment, the Dosedra just nodded and waved her off, as if it was all a minor inconvenience. Glad to be able to escape the awkward interaction, Kate murmured thanks, and when the innkeeper reappeared moments later, she quickly followed him out of the common room, sighing with relief as she climbed the stairs behind him.
Chapter 16
The innkeeper’s wife, a stocky woman with thick arms and a wrinkled face who introduced herself as Noresa, showed her to a tiny room, and helped her dry off and change into dry clothing. Gone was the green woolen gown from the Sarnoc, and in its place was one of Noresa’s own dresses, a simple tunic of worn, faded brown linen, a bit baggy at the arms and waist and about two inches too short. All in all, it wasn’t especially attractive, nor was it as warm as her own gown, but it was clean, and most important of all, it was dry. Best of all, her shivering quickly came to an end as she sat close to the fire.
However, her moment of solitude was short-lived. When she asked for something to eat, Noresa muttered something about her husband having no manners, and before she could mount a protest, the innkeeper’s wife promptly shooed her back out of the room, sending her back to the common room below for a meal.
As a result, she found herself slowly descending the stairs, decidedly reluctant to rejoin the Dosedra and the others, but her growling stomach wasn’t going to let her be picky about the company she kept. She decided she’d sit at a different table, which would at least mitigate some of the awkwardness of the previous encounter. Hopefully tomorrow, after a good night’s sleep, she would be able to figure out a way to get back to Loraden, leaving the Dosedra and his secrets to this godforsaken place.
When at last she reached the bottom of the steps, the men heard the creaking boards, and their hushed conversation ceased as they turned to look at her. In silent response she shrugged as she crossed the room and pulled out a stool at another table.
“Bhara?” Lysander called out to her, cueing her for an explanation.
She sighed. “Noresa said if I was hungry I should come back down here. Don’t let me bother you.”
“It’s an inn,” Nyvas pointed out cheerfully. “That means you have as much right to be here as we do.” From a platter of fresh food that hadn’t been there when she first arrived, he tore off a hunk of bread bigger than both of her fists and held it out to her. “Why don’t you join us?” he offered, casting a defiant glance towards Fantion and the Dosedra as he did so. She wondered what had been said about her during her brief absence, and it appeared there had been a difference of opinion. “We have plenty of food, and it wouldn’t be polite to have you sit alone in a place like this.”
At first, Fantion looked resentful of the situation. Then he rubbed his beard, and with a shrug hopped up to fill another mug of ale from the cask in the corner and then set it in front of an empty seat at their table. “Aye, might as well,” he said, waving her over. After he took a drink from his own mug, he looked around the room at the unoccupied tables. “It’s not like you have your pick of companions here.” Looking to the Dosedra, he added, “you know, this is the quietest inn I have ever seen—you would think even Bhoren could turn out a few men on a night like this.”
“It does seem odd that there is no one else about,” Dosedra Arric agreed.
Swallowing what was left of her pride, she relocated to the spot where Fantion placed the mug, and watched as he pulled a short knife from his belt and began carving into a block of pale cheese. As she pulled up the stool, he offered her the first slice.
The cheese was firm in texture, but a bit grainy, similar to cheddar, but with a stronger taste. As hungry as she was, it was exquisite. While she ate the cheese, silently accepting an additional chunk when Fantion offered it to her, the Dosedra reached for some of the grapes on the platter. Snapping a large bunch off from the main stem, he split the cluster into two and placed half in front of her.
While the others ate, Lysander had not touched the food, instead chewing on a jagged fingernail. Then he stood up and fed another log to the flames, remaining close to the hearth to allow the fire to warm his hands. “I recall the innkeeper said nearly all the rooms were taken,” he said when he sat down again. “I’ve seen no other visitors. Who occupies the other rooms?”
The men looked at each other and shook their heads. “We should remain on our guard,” Fantion agreed. Noticing the Dosedra’s mug was empty, he hopped up again to refill it. When he slid it in front of his companion, the Dosedra raised an eyebrow.
“It’s hard to be on my guard with a bunch of ale in my stomach,” he pointed out.
“Aye, that’s true. But you have pushed yourself hard these past few days,” Fantion replied, with a chuckle. “You deserve a little relaxation.”
“Perhaps so,” the Dosedra agreed, and lifted the stoneware cup to his lips.
Although she remained silent, she was paying attention to the casual interaction between them. Who were these men, and why were they all here? Rynar had been distinctly annoyed with the Dosedra’s disappearance, so putting two and two together, she figured that this excursion was unsanctioned. What was the Dosedra up to? She wasn’t the only one who was feeling curious, however. She felt his eyes on her, and knew he had been watching her as well.
Given the lack of trust between them, it seemed no one’s questions would be readily answered, if at all. She recognized that her best course of action was to stay out of his way, and find her way back to people she knew as soon as possible.
Her thoughts, and the men’s small talk, were both disrupted when the outer door to the inn slammed open and seven men entered the common room, their bawdy voices preceding them, and their heavy boots thundering across the wooden floor. Flinging wet cloaks over one table, the newcomers chose a pair of tables across the room from Kate’s small company, and fell onto the benches.
One of the men slammed his fist onto the table. “Innkeeper! Your best ale!”
Fantion, whose back had been to the door, turned around, and his eyes caught the uniforms of the men. He swiveled around quickly, and leaned forward. “Senvosra.” he whispered under his breath. “Damn.”
As she watched, the Dosedra abruptly pushed back from the table and leaned once more into the shadowy corner, tugging his hood forward to shield his face. Lysander bent over and whispered something to him. In response, the Dosedra shook his head. She heard him explain, “that one on the far right—his name is Gilam, and he served with me for a time.” The Dosedra rubbed at an imaginary itch to hide his face, and then clenched and unclenched his fists. “This is not a coincidence.”
Despite the Dosedra’s concerns, the Senvosra were so far oblivious to his presence. Instead, one of the soldiers tipped the cask. “It’s nearly empty,” he announced to his com
rades. “Innkeeper!” he called out as the others beat on the tabletops. As he tried to rouse the innkeeper, one of the other soldiers noticed Kate and whistled at her.
“Look at the fine bird that flew in,” one called out.
“Hey girlie, if you want a real man, come over to our table.”
With no ability to control it, her face burned with embarrassment, which was made worse when one murmured something off-color to the others, leading them all to laugh raucously.
As the hoots continued, Lysander observed in a whisper, “the lady draws their attention to us all.”
The man who had been beating at the door to the kitchen called over to Fantion, who sat closest to the kitchen. “Hey you over there—where’s Tamil?”
“Is that the innkeeper?” Fantion replied casually.
“Aye. Where’s he at?”
He pointed to the door. “He wanted to turn in for the night, I fear.” He grinned sheepishly and made a gesture of helplessness. “We are on our last beers ourselves.”
“Hey, that’s no good.” The man kicked at the door. “Hey, Tamil! Come on out.” He kicked again, and resumed pounding. “All we want is something to drink, and I know you want our coin.” He did not hear the latch slide, and almost kicked the innkeeper in the shins when the man reluctantly opened the door again. “Old man, we need some ale.”
The innkeeper, looking first to the soldiers’ table and then, anxiously, to the Dosedra’s, eventually nodded. “Aye, very well. I will fetch more.” He shuffled back through the doorway, towards the kitchen.
Suddenly the Dosedra, who had raised his folded hands to his mouth as if to further disguise himself, dropped his hands and smiled. Without lowering his hood, he stood up and announced to his companions, with enough volume that he might be overheard by the others, “if it’s all the same to you, I think I’ll try my luck with the lady.” His smile broadened as he took one of Kate’s hands in his own, and in a coarse voice, said, “come with me, my beauty. It’s time for some fun.”