***
“How many beds?” asked the innkeeper’s wife, as Kaia and the others sat down. They were so large a group that they required two tables.
“Eight,” said Pelliab.
“I’ll be back with your food and drinks.”
“We’ll pay now, if that’s all right. We plan on leaving early,” said Aylin.
“As you wish. Five precs.” The red-faced woman pocketed the gold coins and went into an adjoining room.
The Buzzing Hive was nothing like Robin’s Restful Roost. It swelled with a most boisterous crowd of back-slapping, laughing men who were engaged in games of various sorts. In one corner, a game of cards was taking place. In another, one of dice. In yet another, one involving drinks.
“It’s getting late,” warned a man from behind the tavern’s main counter.
Likely the innkeeper, thought Kaia.
“We know, we know, Finn!” shouted back one of the patrons.
“Almost done!” said another.
“Just a few more minutes!” cried a third.
The red-faced woman returned with two girls in tow. They set down four bowls of puree, four mugs, and some bread at Kaia’s table; a second trip was made to bring the others’ meal.
Thinking of their stowaways, Kaia and Elania both shoved their allotment of bread into their bags.
“Finn!” yelled one of the men.
“There’s nearly no more light,” defended Finn, as he bolted the door. “Anyone who wants to go, go now.”
None moved.
“It’s fine, we don’t need beds. We’ll just play through the night,” cried a man with a unibrow. His companions raised their drinks in the air and cheered.
The innkeeper shook his head and returned to his station.
A grumbling came from across the room. The card game had ended. The victor pulled his winnings close to him.
“Finn! Finn!”
“What, Lanfer?”
“Your bow and arrows, are they here?”
“Why?”
“For a game of Loops and Arrows.”
“Are you insane?”
“We’ll be careful.”
“You’ll destroy my inn!”
“We won’t! Come on, Finn. Indulge your friends!”
“No!”
Lanfer looked to the red-faced woman. “Does he store the equipment here?”
“He has to. Where else would he put it?” said the man with the unibrow. “Search. I’ll distract him. Finn, have you added water to these drinks?”
“Added water?” asked the innkeeper.
“To stretch the barrel.”
“What kind of a man do you take me for?”
“A decent one, which is why I am confident that you couldn’t have ruined my drink purposely. Did you leave the barrels uncapped and out in the rain?”
“Your words lack sense! You accuse me one second and defend me the next.”
“Accuse? No, Finn, that is too strong of a word. I do not suggest that you committed an offense or anything of that nature. I don’t know if I defend you, either, though. I only wonder if it is possible that when the barrels were delivered to you, you inspected them before taking them inside—to be sure that the contents were what you had requested. If you did, and if it was raining, then perchance rainwater landed inside of the barrels.”
“Your drink tastes watered down?”
“No! I never said that. Its taste is much to my liking, not at all watered down. I was only asking for the sake of asking.”
“To derive enjoyment from my vexation, eh? I ought to take your drink from you!”
Lanfer, who had disappeared into another room, emerged with a bow, arrows, and several iron bars—each with a loop on one end and a weight on the other. “Found it!” he exclaimed.
“You can’t play that in here!” shouted Finn.
The entire inn united against the innkeeper, pleading.
“If there are any damages—” began Finn.
“We will repair them,” insisted the card game winner.
“Where’s the chalk?” asked the man with the unibrow.
The chairs and tables were pushed away from the center of the room.
Lanfer made a mark on one of walls and took in his hand the beam with the largest loop. “Loops and Arrows. Everyone know how the game works? Alright. Who’s playing?”
Warrin rose from his seat. “I’d like to.”
A few others joined in. Each wagered gold coins. The game was simple. Players had to shoot an arrow through a loop and hit the target on the wall. With each passing round, an additional, smaller loop was to be added to what would eventually become a line of beams.
The Stone sisters, the Speakers, Pelliab, and the princes attentively watched the first game. Warrin was, undoubtedly, the best shooter. From the first round, Kaia anticipated that he would be the victor; even with the largest loop, most of the other men had difficulty getting the arrow to go perfectly through the center. Some cast their arrow dangerously close to the ring’s rim. Others clipped the rim. The most uncoordinated of the group—which were also, not surprisingly, the most inebriated—missed the loop entirely and sent several men ducking for cover; members of this last bunch were removed from the game altogether by an annoyed Finn.
Warrin’s win was accompanied by his brothers’ excited roars and the losers’ demand for a rematch. Elania, Thomas, Aylin, and Pelliab decided to retire to their rooms when it was decided that a second match would, indeed, be held. The princes and Kaia, however, stayed behind; the princes did not want to abandon their brother, and Kaia was busy nurturing a most enticing idea—what if she were to play? She had never before fired an arrow. As far as she knew, her father didn’t even own a bow. Now was her chance! As the second game got underway, Kaia stood up and opened her mouth to speak. Beholding for the first time the large group of men that Finn had plucked on account of poor marksmanship, she stopped herself and said nothing. She did not want to seek out trouble; had they been outside, she told herself, she would not have stayed a spectator for long.
Kaia watched the men play while the princes commented on their form and on the quality of the bow. She took mental notes, figuring that perhaps one day she’d be able to put them to use. The legs need be spaced apart, though not too much. Do not bend the wrist. Keep the back straight. Pull on the string, not on the arrow. The drawing hand has to be pulled all the way back to the face…
A mixture of cheering and grumbling erupted. Warrin had won again. Yet another match was to be held. Feeling the thrill of watching waning, Kaia stealthily rose from her seat to go to her room.
“Top level. Second door on your right,” said the innkeeper’s wife, as Kaia neared the staircase.
***
Kaia’s hand was on the doorknob when she heard a squeaking. She looked down the hallway and noticed that the door at the very end was halfway open. It wavered in indecision without stop, debating: to close, or to remain as it was. Kaia let go of the knob and walked down the corridor.
“Is anybody there?” she asked, standing at the restless door’s threshold.
No one answered.
Kaia pushed on the door and entered the vacant room. It was cold inside. The window was open! Forget that it was not boarded, it was open! This can’t have been intentional, thought Kaia. Has someone—or something—managed to get inside?
Hearing a coughing coming from outside, Kaia strode over to the window and leaned forward. There was no one below. She looked above and to the side. There was someone sitting on the roof. Their face was momentarily obscured by their arm as they ruffled their hair and rubbed their face. It was Pelliab! Kaia grew excited.
The difficulty of assessing oneself lies in knowing what to focus on. Evaluation is considerably easier when the subject is another. Kaia knew this, thus why she was so interested in acquainting herself with Pelliab; she’d hoped that demystifying one enigma would help her do the same with another.
The window was such th
at it opened onto a segment of the slanted roof. With great care, Kaia climbed out and, hunched over, bounded to the top, keeping her hands out in front of her. She sat next to Pelliab on the roof’s crest.
“What are you doing up here?” she asked.
Pelliab’s eyebrows were low on his face. His lower jaw jutted out further than it normally did. He looked intensely annoyed by his unannounced—and uninvited—guest.
“Thinking,” he said.
“What about?”
Pelliab’s face relaxed; a sinister smile took hold of it. “I can’t bring myself to understand the redundancy. There is only one message and one recipient. There is no need for two messengers, unless, of course, one of us isn’t here to serve as a messenger.”
“What do you mean?”
“Perhaps one of us is necessary for another purpose—to either directly or indirectly protect the other and help them along.”
“That’s what you believe?”
“It’s a notion that I’ve entertained.”
Kaia felt a fluttering in her chest. “Which is which?”
“What?”
“Am I the messenger?”
“Answer me this: why were you named? You haven’t an idea? Well, now I know for certain. Rephrase that question you keep posing to yourself. Ask not why you were chosen to deliver the message, but why you were elected to ensure that I made it to Enbeck.”
“You mean to say that you know why you were named?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“It is not to be shared.”
“You are not allowed to?”
“Yes.”
“Who holds you to secrecy?”
“I do.”
“But—”
“Tell me, Kaia, how far would you go to fulfill your duty? Are you willing to die for me and, therefore, for the Marians?”
“You are wrong, Pelliab.”
“Indirectly it is, then. Perchance even by folly,” he said, laughing.
“Just because you cannot explain the need for two messengers does not mean that there isn’t one.”
“Definitely by folly.”
“What has come over you?” asked Kaia angrily.
“You should learn to not sneak up on people, girl. It isn’t polite.”
“Right. Because you are so well-versed in matters of politeness,” sneered Kaia. “Worry not, I’m leaving,” she said, getting up.
Once inside, Kaia picked her bag up from off the floor. Pelliab was wrong. He was absolutely, positively wrong, she determined—of that she would not be swayed.
***
Save a few indentations and holes in one of its walls, the tavern bore no scars of the previous night’s entertainment. The furniture was back where it belonged, and the unruly crowd had dispersed. Only a handful of quiet patrons were present—one of which was assessing the injured wall with Finn.
“Where’s Warrin?” asked Thomas.
“Waiting for us outside,” answered Bennett, a coy smile dancing upon his lips.
When the group crossed the Buzzing Hive’s threshold, they found Warrin astride a large, dapple grey mare. Amused, Kaia shook her head, biting her lower lip.
“What are you—” began Thomas.
“Like my horse?”
“Your horse?”
“I won her last night,” said Warrin, stroking the mare’s neck. “Her name’s Smokey.”
“You won a horse?”
“Yes. One of the men ran out of coins, so he wagered her.”
“Quite the vice he must have had.”
“I think she’s lovely,” said Elania. “Will you rename her?”
“You do not like her appellation?” asked Bennett.
“Oh, I do! It’s just—Smokey is such an obvious choice for a horse of her color, isn’t it?”
“Yes, I do agree,” said Lyon.
“Stop wasting time. Let’s get going,” said Pelliab, irked.
Warrin eased up on the reins and squeezed the mare’s sides, getting her to walk forward. “I think I shall change her name, Elania. Why not? It’s not as if horses know, or respond to, what we call them. Ideas?”
“Hmm…Ripple,” she offered.
“Because of the rounded patches?” asked Lyon. “Clever. How about Honor?”
“Or Blade.”
“Or Defiance.”
“Or Moonlight.”
“Or Freckles.”
“Or Majesty.”
“Majesty,” said Warrin. “She looks like a Majesty, does she not? There is something dignified about her. Look at how high she holds her head—not like some other horses that keep their muzzles close to the ground.”
Lyon nodded his head exaggeratingly.
“How long did you play for, Warrin?” asked Aylin.
“Most of the night.”
“A total of seven games,” said Bennett.
“And how many of those did you win?” asked Thomas.
“Six,” said Warrin.
“Did you and Lyon join in?” Elania asked Bennett.
“No. What for? We hadn’t a chance against him.”
“Six,” echoed Kaia. “That’s a lot of victories. Tell us, what other spoils have you come away with?”
Warrin glanced up as if to take a mental inventory. “Let’s see, lots of precs, some vals and cheps, a few knives, a pair of shoes, silver badges, and more rings than I have fingers for.”
“Did you three sleep at all last night?”
“No,” answered the princes, wide grins on their faces.
“And, since we did stay up with you, I think it is only fair that Bennett and I be given a share of your winnings,” said Lyon.
“What a crafty fellow you are. I did not force you to watch.”
“Oh, we were not watching the game. We were guarding you!”
“Is that so?”
“Yes. Tell him, Bennett.”
“Fine. I am a fair prince; I will not have anyone say otherwise. As such, you two will be compensated.” Warrin reached into his bag. “Bennett, accept these rings, if you will. Lyon, these are for you.”
“You give him three rings and you throw at me a pair of worn shoes? Look, the leather is peeling!”
“Do not scorn my gift. I can assure you that the rings and the shoes are equal.”
“I can assure you that they’re not.”
“Both required the same payment. They are equal.”
A squawking was heard. Kaia looked to her side. A sweaty man was holding a chicken by its feet. He placed his hands over its flapping wings and then grabbed and twisted its neck. The man stepped away and watched as the chicken flopped around on the ground.
***
Kaia was reminded of home. Not because of the scenery, but because of the openness of it all. She let her mind go blank and closed her eyes as she walked. There were no towns in sight, nor paved roads. The group was surrounded by verdant, rolling hills. Though the area was by no means forested, there were plenty of trees, obscuring one’s view in certain directions. This was a shortcut, or so Aylin had announced earlier. They had been walking for a few hours when something entirely unexpected occurred.
“Majesty!” cried Warrin. The mare beneath him neighed and tossed her head as she turned in a circle. Warrin leaned forward, trying to avoid being thrown off of her as she reared and struck the air with her front hooves. Bennett gripped the mare’s harness when she started to rush backwards.
“Get down!” shouted Lyon.
The instant that Warrin’s feet touched the ground, Majesty bolted. She ran with the speed of a dhazeg.
“Strange. What spooked her?” asked Bennett.
“I don’t know,” said Warrin.
Kaia pointed towards the space behind the Speakers. “The trees, they’re moving.”
“Something is approaching,” corrected Elania.
Before the group could flee, an enormous creature emerged into the clearing. Except for its great legs, which extended below its body inst
ead of off to the sides, it was characteristically reptilian. Its scaly skin was a dull, olive green. Its neck was long, and, though it had a more angled forehead and a longer snout, its head vaguely resembled that of an iguana’s. The creature was crowned with black, menacing quills which ran all the way down to the tip of its tail in two neat lines. Its muscular body was taller than it was long—if one ignored the tail. Kaia estimated that the creature measured at least twelve feet in height. Its fearsome teeth overlapped its lips and could be seen even when the mouth was closed. The dragon—for that’s what it was—let out a deep, shaky growl.
“Enay!” called a young woman, entering the clearing. She stood in front of the dragon, reaching for the heavens. “Down, Enay!”
Ani climbed into Elania’s bag.
A second dragon, accompanied by a boy, appeared. This one was larger and taller—by at least three feet—than the first. It was a dark turquoise-grey and had brown quills. With a snarl, the second dragon laid down, prompting Enay to mimic its movements.
The young woman stared at Kaia and the others. She looked wild and untidy. Her bushy hair was unshorn and several quills had been secured to it. Her face and arms were blackened with dirt.
“Why are you here?” asked the disconcerted young woman.
“We are only passing through,” answered Aylin timidly.
“Where are you travelling to?”
“Nahv!” called the equally unkempt, muddied boy.
“I know, Cahn! You shouldn’t have trespassed,” she said to the group.
“Our apologies,” said Thomas. “We didn’t know that this land was private property. We’ll just be on our way.”
“You can’t go. You’ll have to come with us. Enay! Folken!”
The two dragons rose to flank Nahv.
“It’s imperative that we—” began Thomas.
“You shouldn’t have trespassed! Now come!”
Thomas looked over his shoulder; as he did, the dragons opened their mouths and gnashed their teeth.
“They’ll catch you,” warned Nahv. “Easily.”
“Where will you take us?” asked Warrin.
“To our parents.”
Chapter Ten
The Meadackers
Capering on Glass Bridges (The Hawk of Stone Duology, Book 1) Page 9