“Is it the food or the hospitality that gives this place its reputation?”
“Both, as I understand.” Jaerd led him toward the door. “I’ve only passed through Bridgedale, so I’ve never been here before.” He shrugged. “But I have heard of it, so that must say something.”
Tallen stepped through the door, and the first thing to greet him was the scent of fresh rushes scattered about – light and sweet on the nose. Behind that hung the distant smell of roasting meat from the kitchen.
Lamb with rosemary and garlic.
Dozens of lamps and candles, resting on richly carved tables of dark, warm wood, kept the dining room comfortably lit. A few well-dressed patrons sat in hushed groups. A wide bar lined the back wall, and behind it hung the largest glass mirror Tallen had ever seen. Placed in neat rows in front of it were bottles from vintages and distillers of which Tallen had only heard lavish tales, some with labels in languages he did not recognize.
Tallen followed Maddi toward the bar, while a maid led the dwarves up the wide staircase along the back wall. He heard her mention something about hot baths.
“Why, the Earl of Mourne has returned to my humble Pad! And he has brought my favorite gentlemen with him.” The brassy voice preceded the buxom woman who entered from the swinging door behind the bar. “And some new friends, as well. And here I am unprepared and looking of the dregs.” She fussed with the mound of fire-red hair stacked upon her head.
“You are lovely as always, Mistress Lilly.” Boris offered a short bow.
“Indeed.” Sergeant Hall’s eyes passed over the woman without restraint. Lilly smiled in return. “You are as beautiful as the new spring in bloom, just as you have always been.”
Mistress Lilly giggled, an oddly girlish sound from a woman with such a strong frame. “Why, My Lord Earl. Bringing the enlisted men into a place too expensive for junior officers.” She covered her mouth in mock startlement. “Whatever would the nobility think?”
Boris chuckled. “I am the nobility, my dear.” He shrugged, still maintaining his grin. “Besides, Hall won the hunting contest. The prize was a night here. I am bound by the rules of the gamble.”
“Really? Then I am ever so glad he won.” Lilly cast her eyes up at the man who towered over her, one of the few men Tallen had met who might.
Hall grinned, his large, white teeth peeking out from behind stony lips. “It was all my luck, thanks to my good friend here.” He swung his meaty hand toward Tallen. “The chef who will become a wizard.”
“A chef?” Mistress Lilly raised one eyebrow in Tallen’s direction. “Wherever at, my dear young man?”
“You’ve likely not heard of it. It’s called the Sleeping Gryphon, way out in Dadric.”
The other eyebrow leaped onto Mistress Lilly’s forehead. “Why, the Gryphon is known from realm to realm as one of the finest establishments in the kingdom. It is certainly one of the oldest and most honored in our history.” She snapped at the bartender who stood silently behind her. “Some of the rangeli, the real Urian label, not the fake stuff they make down in Avaros.” She turned back to her guests. “The man may know oil and wine, but Vonstrass couldn’t distill almond to save his considerable ass.”
The bartender set out seven small glasses and poured a couple of fingers of the amber liquor into six. He gestured to Lilly. “For madame?”
“Since we have such honored guests tonight, I will join them. Go ahead, Julan.” Lilly bowed to her guests. Tallen brought a glass to his nose. The aroma met him long before it came close. The almond hint melded with an oaky scent that made his mouth water almost as much as the lamb that wafted from the kitchen.
The proprietor hoisted her glass. “To King Arathan and his worthy men!”
“King Arathan!” Jaerd and the Bluecloaks said in unison before tipping their drinks. Tallen mumbled the same, while Maddi closed her eyes, her lips moving slightly.
The rangeli soothed his tongue with a honey coat and coursed down the back of his throat, warming him from within as it dripped into his stomach.
“Nice,” he whispered, the bite of alcohol catching in his throat when he tried to breathe.
“Very,” Maddi said firmly and tipped her empty glass to the bartender. He poured her a second from the cobalt bottle, which she sipped more slowly than the last.
“We have but five tubs in our men’s bath,” Lilly said over her drink. “Maester Northtower paid well for first chance at them.” She nodded to Maddi. “There are open tubs in our ladies’ room, however, if you would care to join the pretty dwarf girl.”
“I think I will.” Maddi flashed her blue eyes at Tallen before disappearing up the staircase. His imagination spun with images of her slipping into a bath, and he quickly shifted his focus back to his glass.
“In the meantime, perhaps you gents might like another?” Lilly gestured to the bartender, who filled another round.
They managed another couple before the dwarves at last emerged, clean and trimmed. Either Yrik had not washed his pointy beard, or he had taken the time to oil it again before coming down. Tallen watched him more closely of late, hoping to catch a glimpse of the dwarf mage’s power. As yet, he had seen nothing.
The bath was warm and refreshing, and Tallen would have liked to linger. However, his stomach had other demands. He had craved the roasted lamb in the kitchens below the moment he caught his first whiff of it. Even after he had taken his comfortable chair in the dining room, he could not stop staring at the swinging door from whence the aroma drifted. Three waiters finally came through, each carrying an overloaded platter.
Tallen tore into the fresh, crusty bread, after dipping it in a peppered olive oil. Jaerd went straight to the roast lamb, as did Marrax Redarm. They both added a dollop of a creamy sauce that smelled of horseradish. Tallen chose the mint jelly instead, while Maddi took mostly from the heaping pile of roasted potatoes and peas. This time Tallen had no need to wrestle with his brother for the last rib. As soon as their platter started to look empty, another with a fresh rack replaced it.
“Say, youngsters,” Marrax said around a mouthful of peas. “Do you happen to know how many orcs it takes to wield an axe?”
Jaerd and Tallen looked at each other with a dubious expression. Maddi however, kept right on eating and answered, “I don’t know, how many?”
The wrinkled dwarf sergeant washed down his mouthful with a gulp from his wine. “Just one.” He began to snicker. “But he has a hard time getting his hand around the blade!” He broke into guffaws of laughter, slapping his thigh with his hand.
Maddi chuckled. “Good one.”
Dwarf humor.
From the look on Jaerd’s face, Tallen guessed it was not the first dwarven joke his brother had heard. He shook his head as he took another bite of the lamb to drown out the dwarf’s cackling.
Fresh strawberries and cream followed dinner, before a group of musicians filed into the common room and onto a small stage in the corner. Two kitchen boys came out and moved empty tables around to provide space in front. Tallen raised a fresh mug of ale to them when they began to play Open the Door and Come on In, a quick, fun song popular for years in the Western Realm.
A small crowd began to trickle into Lilly’s Pad, many in very fine dress and bedecked with jewels and jade encrusted gold bridges. One or two of the older patrons looked down their nose at the dwarves and soldiers. Some, however, seemed to recognize Boris. Tallen heard several whispers of “the Earl of Mourne”. At one point, once the ale had been flowing for a while, he heard someone say “the Bastard of Mourne”, followed by a conspiratorial chuckle.
What does that mean?
He did not have time to ponder it. Maddi suddenly leaned close and slipped her arm through his. One of the younger nobles had approached while Tallen listened to the crowd.
“No thanks,” Maddi said to the silk-clad man. She inclined her he
ad toward Tallen. “I only dance with him.”
A rush of heat filled Tallen’s ears. He took a gulp from his mug to hide it. The ale tasted as sweet as Maddi’s scent. He set the mug down on the table and twined his fingers through hers. “And I only dance with her.”
The young nobleman nodded with grace and returned sheepishly to his groaning friends.
Maddi squeezed his hand once then let go and leaned back into her own space. “Thanks for the help. Sometimes a girl just wants a mug and a pipe in peace, you know.”
He nodded, regretfully allowing her reclaim her arm. “I understand. I’m always here for you.”
“We’ll see.” She laughed and took a long drink. The musicians began a fast tune that Tallen did not recognize. Maddi smiled behind her cup then set it down next to his. “Come on! This is one of my favorites.” She stood up and reached out her hand to him, bouncing as she backed toward the dance floor. “Join me!” She eyed the cluster of noble boys. “Please,” she mouthed in silence.
Tallen stood and took her hand, and they spun about the dance floor. He noticed Maester Northtower offer Tilli his hand, and she took it with a shy grin. They joined the much younger humans twirling about. Then Maddi’s sky blue eyes drew Tallen’s gaze, twinkling as she laughed, spinning about him. He lost track of everything else, drifting in that moment. The other dancers and the room about them blurred. The music and her brilliant eyes melded together in his mind, drawing him ever toward her.
It ended far too fast. Everyone laughed, breaking into applause for the band. Maddi squeezed Tallen’s grip. She leaned forward for a moment, then hesitated, and lightly brushed his cheek with her lips.
Clearing her throat, she released his hands one at a time. “I need some rest tonight. Thanks for…for being nice.” She darted away through the back of the room and slipped up the staircase. Tallen watched her go, confused and elated, but mostly just sad to see her leave.
“Women,” Jaerd huffed, handing Tallen a small glass of bourbon.
“I’ll drink to that.” Boris hefted his mug and nudged the bleary-eyed Battlemage sitting next to him. “How about you, Joz?”
The mage grumbled and downed his ale.
The bourbon burned when Tallen sent it to the back of his throat, slamming the glass down next to his brother’s.
I hope we get to sleep in late before we have to board that boat tomorrow.
Tallen was uncertain whether it was the pounding in his head or the straining of his bladder that woke him. Jaerd snored away on the other bed in the small room they shared. Knowing that the pressure would get no better, Tallen swung his legs over the edge and stood up. The chamber pot rested underneath the window. As he stepped over toward it his foot caught on his belt, rattling the dagger Jaerd had given him.
Jaerd mumbled something, shifting under his covers. He sat up. “Oh, it’s just you.” He shook his head. “Must have been a weird dream I was having.”
After he finished, Tallen sat back down on his bed. Brawny barked out in the stable, his throaty voice carrying through the open window. Someone shouted at him from down the street. Tallen dug through his pack, searching for his pipe. He stuffed the bowl and reached into his power for the tiniest trickle of Fire. An orange ember began to glow. He smiled at the ease with which he could use his magic. I’ll never need to buy matches again.
Jaerd shifted his covers. “Here, give me a puff of that, so I don’t have to fill my own.”
Tallen passed the pipe to his brother. As he leaned over the chamber pot, a harsh stench wafted up to his nose. “I’ll get rid of that.”
Standing up, Tallen grabbed the pot and carried it toward the open windows. He dumped the malodorous contents toward the street below.
“Flaming... piss!” a growling voice shouted from outside the window.
“What the…” Jaerd leapt to the window. “Thieves and enemies!” He grabbed his sword propped against the bed, pulled the scabbard away, and cast it aside. He shouted at the top of his lungs. “Enemies on the walls!”
Tallen stumbled away as Jaerd thrust his sword out the window and downward. A scream of pain responded. When he drew the sword back, darkness covered the first six inches of its lustrous steel. Jaerd pushed Tallen toward the door, handing him his dagger.
“Get out! There are three more on a ladder.” He opened the door and shoved Tallen through. “It’s you they want!” Jaerd turned back toward the window before slamming the door shut with his foot. Tallen heard the bar drop behind it.
He banged on the door to Boris’ room. “Earl Boris! Magus Britt! Everyone wake up! They are climbing in the windows!”
Tallen sensed a tingle deep within his gut, and knew someone summoned the Fire Aspect. Boris came stomping out, his silvery longsword in hand. Magus Britt followed close behind. Tallen sensed more Fire, then a vague itching in his forehead – just the tiniest bit of Water.
A bolt of white-hot lightning shot out from Magus Britt’s fingertips and crackled about the two figures within their room. They jerked stiff then collapsed as the lighting receded, snapping one last time over their prone, smoking bodies.
Magus Britt shook his hand as if it stung. “I’ve burned their ladder, and the others on this side of the inn. They are probably coming in the other windows too.”
As if in answer, Sergeant Hall came crashing out the rearmost door. He held a broken bedpost in one hand and carried an unconscious Mistress Lilly over his other shoulder. Blood ran from his temple. He nodded to Boris. “They won’t be coming through that room.”
Tallen tugged Magus Britt’s cloak. “Jaerd barred himself in!”
He felt an odd thump in his chest. It could only be the Earth Aspect. Another door burst open, and Darve and Yrik tumbled out. The clash of steel rang loudly behind them. A young nobleman stumbled out of his own room, his neck opened into a second, gaping red mouth. Blood spurted from between his fingers. He tumbled to his knees, as two dark figures in leather armor charged out from behind him.
“Orcs!” Darve ran one through from behind with his rune-carved longsword.
Boris grabbed Tallen’s arm in a tight grip and shoved him towards Hall. “Get him to cover behind the bar. That’s where we will fall back.”
Hall nodded, his wrinkled brow obscured by seeping red. He pulled Tallen toward the stairs.
He did not struggle against the sergeant, if that were even possible. Instead, he shouted toward Boris, “Get Jaerd!”
Down in the main room he heard a thumping noise, each blow followed by a creaking sound.
“They’re coming in the main door.” Sergeant Hall set Lilly down behind the bar. “You stay here with her, and keep your head down.” He disappeared.
Tallen leaned over the inn’s proprietor, searching for a wound he might bind. Lilly moaned and struggled limply against his touch. Suddenly the scent of jasmine wafted to Tallen’s nose. That alone prevented him from screaming when the cool hand covered his mouth.
“It’s me,” Maddi whispered in his ear. “This inn is a death trap. We have to find a way out.” She paused. “To get some help.”
At first, Tallen thought to protest. But when he looked into her eyes, when he saw the resolve hiding fear. He gave in. “If I know anything about kitchens, there is always a rear entry for deliveries.”
“Then let’s go.” She grabbed his hand and pulled him toward back.
The rear door was secured with a bar. They paused for a second, listening, but no sounds of intruders passed through. Tallen crouched close behind Maddi, who held a knife in each hand. He gripped Jaerd’s dagger more tightly in his own.
The bar slid back easily, and Tallen pulled the door open to find himself face to face with a surprised orc. An acrid stench stung his nose as it exhaled a startled breath. He lashed out with a controlled blast of Air, throwing the snarling warrior across the alley to crumple against a stone wall.
A second orc hurdled its fallen comrade and lunged towards him. Tallen scrambled to grab Air again, but not before Maddi leaped around him to stick a dirk in the orc’s neck with a swift, sudden strike.
“Thanks,” he gasped, trying to regain his breath.
The banging against the front door intensified, and a massive crash resounded through the inn. Shouts of rage and pain followed, mingled with the ring of steel on steel.
“Go! Before they send anyone else here.” Maddi pushed him into the alley, slipping along the inn’s rear wall. Tallen followed, copying her movements as closely as he could.
The plaza on the north side of the inn stood empty. A few figures carrying torches gathered in the distance by the docks.
“Those must be the dockside night watch.” Maddi ran toward them, dashing out into the open square.
“Maddi, wait!” Tallen raced after her, casting his eyes over his shoulder toward the inn’s entrance. A half dozen armed figures pushed their way through the front door, though he saw no signs of more entering through the second story windows.
He turned his eyes back toward Maddi, who was already closing on the docks. He sucked air in short, painful bursts as he strained for his longest stride. His heart pounded in fear, but inside his head, he was strangely calm. The colors of the Aspects floated near his perception.
If only Magus Britt had taught me something more useful than growing apple trees and moving seeds of grain!
Maddi skidded to a halt in front of him, her eyes fixed on several small boats tied up along the Snowbourne. The dozen dark figures stopped their random movement, coalesced together, and began to trot toward her. Tallen heard the sound of steel sliding along leather. The light of a torch caught a pair of eyes.
Red! Orcs!
“Maddi!” She looked back at him. “This way!” He waved her toward another side road, leading to a closer turn of the river. Maddi ran toward him, and the orc squad charged.
A Balance Broken (Dragonsoul Saga) Page 18