The Harrowing Path

by Cleave Bourbon

  “No,” she stated, “I want you to remain silent in the common room. Introduce me to your parents only.” She stopped to allow Rodraq to pass. “I do not wish to draw too much attention to myself yet. There is time for pleasantries later.” Rodraq entered the common room, surveyed it from top to bottom, and deemed it safe enough for his charge. Despite their caution, everyone in the common room fell silent as one by one the patrons noticed the battle-scarred stranger standing at the entrance. Rodraq drew his sword and planted it hard into the wooden floor in a gesture to discourage riff-raff. A startled whisper filled the room. He motioned, and Lady Shey entered, followed by the elf maiden and Kelle.

  Lady Shey rolled her eyes. “So much for not drawing attention,” she muttered to Rodraq.

  “It’s good to set a stance, my lady.”

  She stopped and stared at Devyn, and it took him a moment to realize she expected him to lead her through the inn. He rushed to accommodate her.

  The common room of the Tiger’s Head Inn was designed floor to ceiling by Devyn’s mother, Dellah. The walls were made of deep polished wood, and the floors consisted of long wooden planks placed tightly together. Rich mosaic tapestries hung on the east and west walls with one above the bar area on the north wall. Coat hooks, hat hooks, and sword notches lined the southern wall around the double-door at the entrance. The ceiling had been painted with the mural of a giant pouncing tiger with an overly large head, mouth open in a silent roar for dramatic effect. Devyn scanned the common room but found no sign of his mother or father. The patrons remained in a low hush as Devyn led Lady Shey to the kitchen. Upon entering, Devyn spotted his mother speaking rather sharply with the chief cook. Ladle in hand, she was sampling a sauce and giving the cook pointers on the inclusion of ingredients. The cook looked none too pleased with her advice. Devyn scanned the kitchen for his father but did not see him. Sensing that Lady Shey was becoming impatient again, Devyn led her to his mother and waited for her to finish scolding the cook. After a moment or two, Dellah realized the cook was no longer paying attention to her, and she turned to see what he was looking at so intently. At first, she stared anxiously at Devyn until she noticed Rodraq towering above Lady Shey, his stone-faced expression serious. “Devyn dear,” she began nervously, “We do not usually entertain guests in our kitchen. Is there anything the matter?

  “No, mother.” Devyn extended his hand outwardly toward Lady Shey and the elf maiden. “This is Lady Shey from the Vale and her elven servant.” He noticed that the elf maiden winced at the word servant, but he tried to pretend he did not see her. “They would like to have a word with you and secure lodgings for the night.” He turned to Lady Shey. “My lady, this is my mother, Inn Mistress Dellah Adair.”

  Dellah’s worried expression became one of excitement. “Well then, I shall have the chambermaids prepare my best rooms for such honored guests.” Dellah bowed gracefully. “The Tiger’s Head Inn is at your every service, my lady.”

  Lady Shey returned the bow. “Thank you, Mistress Dellah. I shall call on you if the need arises. As for the moment, I invoke your hospitality as I require that you meet with me after we have settled. I have a matter to discuss with you.” Lady Shey’s eyes darted to Devyn as she leaned in to whisper to Dellah. “Bring along the townswomen elders as well. This is a matter for womankind first and men folk later.” Lady Shey winked, and Devyn saw his mother wink back just as quickly.

  “Kelle, my dear, may I borrow you for a moment?” Dellah asked. Kelle nodded, pinched Devyn’s arm, and quickly moved beside Dellah. Devyn winced and gave Kelle a menacing stare as she took her place beside his mother. He mouthed, what was that for, to her. She grinned at him.

  “Kelle dear, go fetch Fettina and tell her to prepare the master suites.”

  “As you wish, Mistress Dellah,” Kelle answered, bowing slightly before moving off through the back entrance to the kitchen.

  “You must be exhausted and famished, my lady, I will have the servants prepare the private dining hall immediately.” Dellah pointed to a doorway that led into a long hallway.

  “I would not trouble you, my good inn mistress,” Lady Shey said.

  A young girl with brown hair and wide brown eyes appeared. Dellah took her by her shoulders, moving to stand in behind her. “Nonsense, I shall have Fettina here show you to your lodgings. Assemble back here in an hou, and I will serve you a dinner befitting your station, if it pleases you, my lady.” Dellah bowed again.

  Lady Shey returned the bow. “It does, Inn Mistress. You are most gracious.”

  “Grand,” Dellah replied, clasping her hands together as she whirled around back toward the kitchen. She whispered to Devyn as she passed him. “Oh, this is so exciting, a noblewoman here at the Tiger’s Head!”

  Devyn followed his mother into the kitchen as Fettina led Lady Shey to her accommodations. Dellah began barking orders to the already frantic staff, and they all began bustling around, grabbing down pots and pans and various cooking ingredients.

  Devyn stopped to talk to the cook “Elgar, have you seen my father?”

  “Not in a long while, Master Devyn. I believe he has gone to Master Sanmir’s shop; he was muttering something about a nagging headache,” the cook said.

  “I’d wager that headache is named Dellah Adair,” Devyn stated, elbowing the cook and smiling. The old cook just smiled back knowingly, trying not to look in Dellah’s general direction. Devyn loved his mother very much, but her perfectionism was maddening at times. “All right then, Elgar, tell my father I have gone to find Rennon if he asks for my whereabouts.”

  “I will, Master Devyn,” Elgar said, turning back to his cooking. He stirred his sauce once and then rapidly turned back to Devyn. “Oh, and Master Devyn, I almost forgot. Master Vesperin was here searching for you about an hour ago. I heard him tell your father that he would be at the temple should you return.”

  “Good. I will try him there. Thank you, Elgar.”

  “My pleasure, Master Devyn,” the cook said, continuing to prepare his sauce.

  Devyn left the kitchen by way of the common room, mainly ignoring the patrons in favor of getting out of the inn without spending time speaking to any of them about Lady Shey’s arrival. Only one person tried to flag him down with her handkerchief, but he pretended not to hear or see her as he hurried out the front double doors. Once he was out of the inn and into the street, Devyn made his way to the temple of Loracia, north of the village square. The temple was a large building with huge spiraling turrets and statues of Loracia lining the main entrance. It was the oldest structure in Brookhaven but was still as solid as the day it was erected. Loracia, the goddess of life, was the patron goddess to most of Symboria’s clerics, and Vesperin was definitely born to be a cleric. The priests of Loracia found him wandering through the temple gardens as a young boy of two or three. They tried to locate his parents for a full season before finally adopting him. The first season he was at the temple, he was known simply as Boy. Finally, Father Undain made him his apprentice and renamed him Vesperin after the elvish word meaning little miracle. The priests are still convinced that Loracia herself sent him to them.

  Devyn pushed the two massive doors open and entered the main hall. Hundreds of candles burned on both sides of the altar, and along the two sections of pews lining either side of the temple. The vaulted ceiling extended high above, illuminated only by the round, stained glass window inset above the altar. He saw Vesperin sitting on a pew near the front of the hall. Devyn sat on one of the back pews and waited for his friend to get free of his duties, so he could tell him the events of the day.

  It was another half hour before Vesperin was free, but as soon as he could slip away from the temple, he and Devyn rushed to the gardens before making their way back to the inn. Devyn excitedly filled Vesperin in on Lady Shey’s arrival, embellishing a few facts for dramatic effect.

  “So she is a real noblewoman from the Vale of Morgoran?” Vesperin asked as they crossed through the garden.


  “As far as I can tell,” Devyn replied. “Mother is preparing a special meal for her as we speak, so they will be in the private dining hall shortly. Oh, and I almost forgot; she is attended by an elf maiden!”

  Vesperin stopped cold. He absently smoothed down his plain brown cleric robe. “A Darovan elf?”

  Devyn shook his head. “ She appeared Arillian to me.”

  Vesperin ran his hand through his long blond hair as if making himself more presentable. “I‘ve never seen one in Brookhaven before.”

  “Me neither, at least, I think she is Arillian. I can’t be sure. She looks different than Sanmir.” Devyn smiled as Vesperin smoothed down his hair again. “Planning on courting her, are you?”

  Vesperin, with embarrassment, realized he was brushing back his hair and abruptly stopped. “No, but it never hurts to make a good first impression.”

  “You’re a priest, Ves.”

  “No, I’m a cleric. There is a difference, you know.” Vesperin took a deep breath. “An Arillian elf in Brookhaven!”

  “We can see them through the side door to the private hall. Mother will have Kelle and Fettina serving them, so we can have Kell fill us in on what they’re talking about if we can’t hear them. later.”

  “Where is Rennon?” asked Vesperin. “He would most likely want to be around for this.”

  “I haven’t seen him since yesterday. Sanmir probably has him practicing potion mixing or whatnot in his shop. You know Rennon. When he works in the shop he is occupied for hours.”

  The two boys reached the inn and decided to enter through the kitchen. Devyn searched for his father again but still did not see him. The two were about to enter the hallway to the private dining room when Lourn Adair burst out of the ale cellar carrying a barrel. He noticed Devyn and smiled. Devyn’s father had a rotund build, as did many innkeepers that could not keep their hands off the ale and fine cooking of their staff. He had steel blue eyes with an unnerving, penetrating gaze. His white apron was forever stained, and his trousers were loose and faded from use. His brown hair receded back to reveal a high forehead, which he could use to express anger with incredible clarity.

  “Oh, there you are, Devyn. I’ve been searching for you. Your mother wants you to go to the private dining hall and serve this ale. Lady Shey’s servant and guards do seem to enjoy their drink.” His expression abruptly changed. “Which reminds me, as I fetched this barrel I noticed that my stores were getting much lower than I expected. Did I see Fadral stumbling around here?” Lourn cut his eyes to the hallway as if expecting to see Fadral standing there. “Did you get the meat I sent you after?”

  “Aye, he was in the common room the last I saw him. He was trying to stir up a game of nine cards,” Devyn answered. “He claims to have plenty of cured meat in stock.”

  Lourn chuckled. “Good, I wonder if he is also carrying Darovan ale this trip.”

  Devyn glanced at the doorway to the common room as if Fadral would hear. “He doesn’t seem to be worried about selling stock, not like I would expect a peddler to be. I didn’t see any ale barrels tied to his wagon either.”

  Lourn sighed in dismay. “We may have to make a trip to Symbor ourselves then. The only problem is I can’t leave the inn just now with all of the extra business from the soldiers.” Lourn set down the barrel of ale. “But I could send you, Vesperin, and Rennon if you take Trendan along to keep you out of trouble.”

  Devyn brightened. “I know Trendan would go, and Rennon would absolutely go if he can get away from Sanmir and his studies long enough.”

  “Well, I believe Trendan is in the common room now, why not go and ask him? If he agrees, you will leave in the morning. I will have Durn prepare the red wagon and the good team.”

  Devyn hurried off then stopped and turned back to Lourn. “What about serving the ale?”

  “I’ll take care of that. Go and ask Trendan and then meet me at the tap and mallet.”

  “Aye, father,” Devyn said excitedly, cocking his head for Vesperin to follow him.

  After the two were down the hall toward the common room, Vesperin spoke. “Why does your father always insist on Trendan coming along whenever he sends us out of Brookhaven?”

  “He thinks Trendan is responsible since he has been around so long. Ever since Trendan fought off bandits from one of his supply wagons last summer, he has had my father’s respect. He managed to get the supply wagon here without losing a single drop of ale or pinch of flour.” Devyn grinned. “He would probably swallow that respect if he knew Trendan as well as I do.”

  “He is the best woodsman and tracker I have ever seen,” Vesperin said.

  “Well, he is half-elven.”

  “Aye.” Vesperin turned thoughtful. “I wish I could go to Foreshome someday. The Archers of Endil win the archery tournaments every season. I wish we could be there in person. News from the peddlers and secondhand retelling can’t possibly compare to actually being there in the Great Sythian forest and seeing the archers compete. And I wouldn’t mind seeing the Sylvan elf maidens either; I hear no man can resist them.”

  Devyn was stunned. “Is that the sort of thing a priest should speak of?”

  “I already told you, I am a cleric, not a priest. And clerics of Loracia do marry by the way.”

  Devyn entered the common room and immediately spotted Trendan talking to Lenae and Jerral, the common room attendants. Trendan always knew when he had a pair of eyes on him, and he glanced up from his conversation to see Devyn and Vesperin. Devyn motioned for him to join them by the doors. Trendan raised his head in acknowledgment of Devyn’s request, excused himself from the two attendants, and made his way to the double doors where his two friends stood waiting. Trendan stood as tall as Devyn and had a similar build, but his sandy blond hair and his emerald green eyes were a stark contrast to Devyn’s brown hair and dark brown eyes. He had sharper features than Devyn and a longer nose. His two slightly pointed ears identified him as half-elven.

  “There you two are,” Trendan said. “What news do you have of the coach I saw in the stable, and where is Fadral?”

  “I thought Fadral was staying here at the inn. You haven’t seen him?” Devyn asked. “He was just in here not an hour ago.”

  “No, I haven’t seen him.”

  “Kelle and I rode in with him on his wagon. We led Lady Shey here.”

  “Lady who?” Trendan asked.

  “Shey,” Devyn repeated. “She is a noblewoman from the Vale. Follow me, and I will explain.” The three started down the hall, letting the double doors swing shut. “My father wanted me to ask you if you would guide us to Symbor to pick up a shipment of ale. He won’t let us go without you.”

  “Who will be going?” Trendan inquired.

  “Me, Vesperin, you, and maybe Rennon if he can get away from his duties with Sanmir.”

  Trendan scratched his chin. “Anyone else?”

  “No,” Devyn replied. “Why?”

  “As long as your mother is not going you can count me in.”

  “I thought so,” Vesperin chimed in.

  “I thought you two got along better now.” Devyn said.

  “We do, as long as we don’t have to travel together. You mother likes to pick on me.”

  “I’m sure that’s all in your head.” Devyn said patting him on the back.

  Lourn had already installed the tap on the ale barrel when the three arrived, and he had begun pouring the ale into mugs and setting them on a silver tray. “Well, what do you say Trendan?” Lourn asked.

  “I have already agreed to go along, Master Lourn. When do we leave?”

  “You leave at first light. Why don’t you two take a summons to Rennon while Devyn serves ale to our guests?” Lourn handed them a small parchment from under his vest. “Oh, and Trendan, my lad?”

  “Yes, Master Lourn?”

  “I will be counting on you to use that keen tracking skill of yours to avoid any potential bandits.”

  Trendan nodded, slapped Vesperin’s chest
with the back of his hand, and the two were off to Sanmir’s apothecary shop. Lourn laughed as they hurried off.

  As Devyn prepared to lift the silver tray, Lady Shey unexpectedly appeared behind him.

  Lourn almost tripped over her.

  “I am very sorry. I did not intend to startle you and please forgive my eavesdropping, but did I hear you say you were sending these boys to Symbor?”

  “Aye, my lady, you heard correctly,” Lourn stated.

  “I would very much like to accompany them if I may.”

  “You, my lady?” Lourn asked confused. “But you have a coach with guards; you can travel to Symbor anytime you wish.”

  “Aye, what you speak is true, but I have some delicate business that may require a little more discretion, and going to Symbor as a merchant would afford me that luxury. I would take along Rodraq and my elf maid as well. I will leave behind my coach for you to keep until I return.”

  “If you wish to go, I can’t stop you, my lady, but there will be little room for you on the return trip. The boys are picking up a shipment of ale, and the largest wagon I have is barely adequate when loaded, much less so if there are passengers to cart about.”

  “Once we get to Symbor the return trip is of no consequence to me.” She shrugged her shoulders. “I will have Rodraq procure a wagon of goods there for the return trip as a gesture of good faith. What goods are you in need of other than ale?”

  Lourn grinned, “Good faith, that sounds expensive. I can’t let you spend the coin.”

  “Nonsense, the cost will be to the crown. I am authorized for travel expenses.”

  “Well then, I shall make a list of dried goods I could use and will get it to you by the time you are to leave at first light.”

  “Very well, my good innkeeper, we will be at your stable just before first light. Now, if you will excuse me, I must return to my dinner.” Lady Shey bowed. The two men bowed in return. Devyn lifted the tray with the goblets of ale and followed Lady Shey into the private dining room. He thought he saw the elf maiden and Lady Shey exchange nods.