A Whisper in the Dark

by TD Bauer

  Chapter VI

  Navarr and Gaston were having a difficult time finding their way back to the Blue Sparrow Inn amid the many winding and twisting streets of Tulle-sur-Mer. Luckily along the way they caught the smell of fresh baking bread that led them to a small bakery. The shop wasn't open yet, but the baker and a few assistants was there preparing their pastries, pies, and breads for the coming day. After some incessant knocking at the bakery's locked front door, the owner eventually came forward and bargained directions for the purchase of some of his baked goods.

  The two companions walked away from the bakery with detailed instructions through the mazelike streets, as well as half a dozen warm pastries. They ate the pastries quickly as they made their way towards the inn.

  The baker's directions proved true, and within several minutes they found themselves approaching the Blue Sparrow Inn from the opposite direction they had come the night before. As the two men drew closer to the front of the stone building they both noticed the young boy who had tended to their horses the night before. He was sitting down crossed legged outside the inn's door.

  Both men also noticed the door was ajar several inches.

  The boy saw their approach right away and watched as they came closer. He had the same expressionless countenance as the night before. He didn't appear at all concerned and remained sitting. Both men watched the young boy closely for any telltale signs of apprehension, but saw none.

  Gaston whispered to Navarr, "He's either unaware of the landlords dark schemes, or perhaps he's an imbecile and doesn't realize he should be fleeing from us."

  Navarr didn't bother to answer. They would find out soon enough. A few moments later they stood at the front of the inn and before the boy.

  "Boy, is the landlord within?" Navarr asked. He looked from the boy to the open door of the inn, half expected the grisly looking innkeeper to appear.

  "I do not know, monsieur," the boy replied. "When I arrived at first light the door was as you see it there. The innkeeper doesn't like me being inside without his being present. After I called inside for him with no response I decided to sit here to wait."

  "He's not your father then?" Gaston asked.

  "Oh, no monsieur. I live with my mother and little sister. My mother is a seamstress at one of the shops in the square just east of here. My father abandoned us when he ran off years ago. He's not ever been seen or heard from since."

  "That's very fortunate," Gaston replied with a firm nod.

  The boy looked up at Gaston with a furrowed brown, clearly wondering why he was fortunate for his father having run off.

  Navarr shook his head and gave Gaston a stern look. "Sorry lad, but my friend means to say that it's fortunate the innkeeper is not your father."

  Gaston's eyes widened slightly as he realized his error. "Yes, of course. It's a terrible thing for your father to have abandoned your family. That's not at all fortunate… well, probably not, anyway."

  Gaston reached into his coin purse and produced a coin. He quickly tossed it to the boy with a shrug, as his way of further making an apology. The boy caught it and his eyes lit up as he turned the coin over in his hand. It was more money than he and his mother would earn in a month.

  "You should go find your mother, boy," Navarr said, looking back at the inn's open door.

  "He's quite right," Gaston agreed. "Go find your mother. We have some business inside with the landlord. Odds are he'll not likely have need of your services after this day."

  The boy didn't have to be told anything further. He jumped up and was running off with the pistole clenched tightly in his hand, eager to show his mother.

  Both men watched the boy disappear from sight. As soon as he was gone Navarr nudged Gaston and drew his rapier as he turned for the inn's door. Gaston drew his rapier as well and followed.

  Both men stepped inside but stopped short after a few paces to listen and look around. There was a minimal amount of light filtering into the inn's common room from the barred windows set about the outside walls, but it was just enough to see by. Slowly the two companions moved further into the room, weaving about the many tables and chairs that were located all about. They were keenly alert, expecting at any moment more wererats to come rushing into the room from some shadow-obscured location, or from the hallway down which the inn's rooms were located.

  Both men quickly made a search of the common room and the kitchen but found no signs of the innkeeper or a place where he would be able to hide. Both men shared knowing glances, thinking that more than likely the innkeeper disappeared when the night's events had not gone as planned.

  Gaston gestured towards the hallway where the inn's rooms were located, as they had not searched there yet. Navarr nodded and headed that way.

  The hallway was darker than the rest of the inn, as no outside walls were located there with light shining in. It didn't stop the two companions however, as the rooms themselves each had a barred window. As Gaston guarded the hallway, Navarr quickly searched each room. They moved from one room to the next, making sure each room was cleared and not hiding the innkeeper before moving on to the next. One of the rooms in the middle of the hall was obviously being used on a day to day basis, as it contained dirty dishes, dirty clothes strewn about, an unmade bed, and had a smoldering fire still burning in the fireplace. Both men agreed it was most certainly the room the innkeeper used. The other rooms they searched were all clean and well kept.

  So far there was no sign of the innkeeper.

  Finally they came to the last room in the hallway, the very room they had been in the night before. The door was open, with the cross bar on the inside that Navarr had made secure hours earlier having been lifted away. Neither man could tell if the bar had been removed from inside the room or from the outside, but both suspected that the innkeeper probably had a way of removing the bar from the hallway. It was also possible that during the maddening chase below in the catacombs that one or more of the wererats had come to their room by means of the secret door in search of them, and unbolted the door at that time. Either way it really didn't matter.

  The room was pitch black inside, as it had no window, as did the other rooms, and the fire that had been burning hours earlier in the hearth had long gone out.

  "I'd feel more comfortable if we had some light before going in there," Gaston said quietly as he peered past the door into the black void beyond.

  "Agreed," Navarr replied with a look and a nod.

  Both men backtracked down the long hallway. Standing in the common room, Navarr kept a close watch down the hall while Gaston searched for a source of portable light. Gaston didn't find anything readily available in the common room so then headed for the kitchen. After a few minutes he emerged from the kitchen with a small glass lamp, its oil soaked wick lit and giving off a soft glow.

  The two men wasted no time and headed back down the hallway and into their room. Inside they found their personal belongings they had left behind strewn about the room. The secret door was once again shut.

  They had come back to the inn searching for the innkeeper and challenge him regarding his obvious involvement in the nefarious activities taking place. Instead they found the inn deserted.

  "Where could he be?" Gaston asked a bit perturbed.

  Navarr shrugged, "He must have learned that things didn't go as he usually planned. He's obviously fled the city or escaped to the catacombs."

  "I am profoundly disappointed," Gaston said with a huff. "I was really looking forward to giving that scoundrel a piece of my mind before hauling him to the magistrate."

  "I would prefer to give him several inches of cold steel through his heart," Navarr stated grimly.

  "I've never thought myself capable of a cold-blooded action such as that, but I must admit the thought appeals to me when I think about that pile of bones we found."

  "Before locating a priest about the discarded remains in the catacombs, we should inform t
he local authorities of what occurred here. Perhaps our innkeeper will show himself again and be apprehended."

  Navarr sheathed his sword and began gathering his items. He picked up his hat from the floor and dusted it off before putting on. Gaston wasted no time and quickly followed suite. As both men collected their few belongings and stuffed them back into their saddle bags, Navarr noticed a piece of paper sitting on the table in the room with writing on it. He picked it up and moved closer to Gaston and the lantern he carried.

  "Look here," Navarr prompted, showing the letter to Gaston.

  They both examined the letter together.

  It would be best for you to watch your back. Not today nor tomorrow, but at some later time and place of my choosing I will extract revenge for what you've done to my brothers and me. Don't think that I will not, for I recognized you as the Duke de Bouford immediately when you came through my inn's front door. Your henchman I do not know, but where I find you I suspect he'll be close by. You'll both pay in blood for what you've done.

  Your Once and Future Host

  Navarr glanced sideways at Gaston and saw the man's face pale as the words from the letter sunk in.

  "Oh dear," Gaston said as he wrung his hands in worry.

  "It would appear we've made an enemy for life."

  "My fear is that now my life will not be so long," Gaston shot back.

  "You seriously think this is the first person you've encountered that would like to see you dead?"

  "Yes. Wait, what do you mean?" Gaston asked uncertainly, suspecting Navarr knew something he didn't.

  "You're the Queen's brother after all. Certainly you know she has enemies, and anybody who would see her ruined would see her entire family much the same."

  "Why me? I've no claim to the throne? Her son is the direct descendant of the late king and would inherit."

  "That doesn't matter. Her enemies and the enemies of Rennardy are also your enemies. And trust me, Rennardy has many. As an agent of the Queen I can attest to that with firsthand knowledge."

  Gaston paused to think about what Navarr was saying for a moment. After a moment his brow furrowed.

  "So you're telling me I shouldn't be overly concerned with adding another enemy to the many I already have?"

  "Precisely," Navarr replied with a shrug. "You lived this long without issue, what is one more enemy?

  "Yet before now I didn't even know I had so many enemies. If you're trying to make me feel better about the innkeeper you failed horribly by light of the larger detail you provided."

  Again Navarr shrugged.

  "Now you've given me much to think about."

  "Come," Navarr said. "Let's go find our mounts and take care of the remaining business we have in this town. You can dwell on your recent revelations while we are on the road. We still have a few more days of travel ahead of us and the Queen is waiting for your arrival."

  "Yes, let's make haste. I'm more eager than ever to get this inn and this town far behind us," Gaston agreed.