“Sebastian, there is a harness and an assortment of weapons over by that window,” he paused to point, and smiled at Sebastian’s sudden interest, “I want you dressed out and armed. You are the only enforcer I intend to employ. You will also be going with Andrew and Kelson tomorrow.”
Turning to face all of them squarely, he looked each in the eye as he spoke. “I am a stranger in these duchies, and, as such, I have some strange ideas. You will each have a room on the top floor, as the women do. I do not forbid interaction between you and them, but I do demand this.” He held up a finger to catch their attention. “They have to agree. You may ask, but you may not demand. They may say no, and that is the end of it. If I have to intervene in even one case of you forcing yourself on one of the women, out you go. And here, in this pass, that can be a death sentence.”
All four men nodded, looking wide-eyed at Drake and each other. Sebastian immediately went to the window and began strapping on the weapons. They were not the best quality, but the double-handed broadsword, short-sword, dirk and twin daggers were all well-made and utilitarian. The harness was made to a standard style that he was familiar with. In a matter of a few moments he had transformed from a defiant, sullen slave to a confident man-at-arms again. His grin as he bowed to Drake was both happy and satisfied.
Drake nodded and returned to the table where Cray was waiting. Cray looked up and smiled. “Well, friend Drake, you seem to be well settled. The only problem I see for you is that the winter storms are about to start. Are you prepared to be snowbound for the next fifty days?”
Drake nodded. “Food, fodder, beer, and the supplies to make more. Five men, seven women. Yes, I think I’m ready.”
Drake’s choice of words had Cray laughing, and he spent the night as the inn’s first guest. Morning saw him on his way toward Kelsey, with Andrew, Kelson, and Sebastian headed the opposite direction. With the other men gone, Waite was seeing to his duties, and to the two horses left in the stable.
The women busied themselves cleaning and straightening the inn, seeing to the homey tasks that Drake had not bothered with. The windows were all thrown open before long, and Drake fled as the women dusted and cleaned.
Laughing to himself, Drake went to the side of the gates and began to slowly build a set of covered steps into the wall, and added an enclosed Gatehouse over the gates. Cray had pointed out that a traveler at the gate would have no way to get their attention, and had suggested that a snug, warm spot for a man to watch from was probably a good idea. Travelers had been trapped in the mountains before, and had frozen within feet of safety when they were unable to attract attention. Drake built the gatehouse using the same materials and technique as he had used to build the inn. Thick walls, a centered, carved-stone firebox, and a window that looked out over the gate and road were soon done. A spare bed, table and chair were brought from the inn to furnish it, and he used magic to lift it into place while Waite stared in wide-eyed wonder. A hole in the floor would allow for a bell rope, as soon as he made a bell.
Sebastian had suggested that he add a postern gate large enough for a man and horse so that the main gates did not have to be opened for every traveler. His other suggestion, that Drake add crenellations and a walkway around the top of the wall, he ignored. The postern was easily carved into the right-hand gate, and he added a stout bar to both the main and postern gate, another of Cray’s suggestions.
The men returned the next day, and the stables were soon full of hay. Sebastian inspected the walls, the Gatehouse, and surrounding area and returned shaking his head. “Master Drake, this place isn’t very defensible. It would take a large force to defend it properly.”
Drake laughed and shook his head. “Sebastian, this is an inn, not a fort. I’m not overly concerned about standing off an army.”
Sebastian shook his head, but accepted Drake’s decision. That night Drake called all his people together. “I would like all of you to know that I am quite satisfied with your work. The winter is likely to be long and arduous for all of us, and we are going to need something to keep us busy. I want each of you to consider what you would like to spend your free time doing, then come to me. If we do not already have the materials you need, we will get them.”
The next day, each of his employees approached him. All the women wanted knitting and embroidery supplies, except Allison. She asked for a knee-loom and spools of silk thread. Drake had to ask her what that was, and she explained that it was a small, lap sized loom with a mechanism that was operated by opening or closing your knees. He shrugged, and added it to the list. Of the men, only Sebastian needed anything. Slaves did not have the leisure to develop hobbies. Sebastian wanted a set of carving tools. He had been born to a carver’s clan, and normally spent his off seasons producing wooden trinkets that he sold to supplement his income.
Drake sent Sebastian and Allison to Kelsey for the supplies, as well as more food. While they were gone, Drake set the others the task of settling the rest of the rooms. He had equipped each room with its own heater, a simple firebox carved from a block of basalt, and he inspected each room to ensure that there was nothing combustible near any of them. When he was satisfied, he had the empty rooms closed, shutters and door, to conserve heat in the rest of the building. He also had the extra hay moved to the attic as insulation. The men and women looked at him sideways at that, but obeyed anyway.
The first snow chased Sebastian and Allison into the inn yard. Drake had made the door to the stables large enough to bring the wagons inside, and they worked in relative comfort as they unloaded the supplies. The first paying customer was close on their heels.
Master Trader Fenton Renner was a cloth merchant who had traveled north, seeking the fine silks that the people of the Duchy of Bassland were famous for. His surprise at finding the inn was increased by the service he received. Andrew ran out, his coat clutched at the throat as he approached the trader’s wagon.
“Welcome, good sir. Park your wagon in the yard and we’ll bring your horses into the stable.”
Trader Renner was so surprised that he agreed, forgetting his questions in the rush to get out of the storm. Once they were safely in the stables, he looked closely at Andrew.
“What is this place? There was nothing here this spring when I traveled out.”
“This is the Dragon’s Rest Inn, Trader. Master Drake built it this fall. Come up, there is a meal just about ready,” Andrew answered, grinning at the surprise on the trader’s face.
Drake met the trader as soon as he entered the main room. “Welcome, Trader. Welcome to the Dragon’s Rest. I am Drake Emverson, owner and innkeeper. How may we be of service?”
“I am in need of a room, and a hot meal would be nice,” Trader Renner answered, looking around at the building. “What did you call this? The Dragon’s Rest? Now why would you choose a name like that?”
“I am a member of the clan of Amberdrake’s Children. We have inns and...”
“I know,” the trader interrupted, raising his right hand, palm toward Drake. “You have to be a relative of Nicholas’. His inn is a favorite watering hole for the Cloth Merchants League, and you sound just like him. Do you have any good beer? I could use one about now. This is some surprise.”
Drake nodded and signaled Sadie. He had given her the tap and bar since she had experience working in an inn. “I bought a few casks from Nicholas until I can get my own brewing.”
Fenton was looking about and nodding. “A nice, stout place. Are you going to try and winter here? This pass can be nasty when the big storms come down from the north.”
Drake nodded. “Yes, we are. We have the food and supplies that we need, so we will be able to keep busy.”
Fenton nodded, then saw Allison. His face twisted into a nasty scowl. He growled, “What is that wench doing here?”
“Allison is one of my people, Trader,” Drake answered coolly. In his experience, men who used that tone of voice were unpleasant.
Fenton glared at Allison, who
shrank back from him in apparent fear. “So, Master Reed finally found someone to dump you on. May you bring your new owner better luck than you brought him.” Allison turned and fled to the kitchen, while Drake frowned.
Drake charged the trader a silver for room and board for him and his team of horses. It was more than he had intended to charge, but the trader had angered him. Allison was one of his people now, and no one had the right to abuse them, verbally or otherwise. Allison did not reappear until the trader had left in the morning. She came to Drake’s side and looked at the floor. “I am sorry, Master.”
“For what, Allison?” Drake answered, looking closely at the girl. “You did nothing wrong.”
“Trader Renner, he said it. I bring bad luck.”
Drake burst out laughing. “Nonsense. Luck is what you make it.”
“But, Master Reed, he never let me near anything valuable, because I would ruin it,” she replied, a tear dripping down her nose.
“How? Girl, I know a thing or two about luck. It would take a curse to make you a bad luck charm, and there is no curse on you.”
“But, whenever anything went wrong, everyone would say that it was because of me, because of my face, and I would be punished.” She finished speaking in a barely-audible whisper.
The girl’s story came into focus for Drake, and he shook his head. “Allison, there is no possible way that your face could cause anything bad to happen. They just blamed you because they could get away with it.”
Trader Renner was just the first of the guests that were hurrying through the pass in both directions. Men of all stations in life were bound home or out on business, hurrying through the pass before it was closed by the winter storms. Drake had to send for more beer and food, and they had just restocked the pantry when the first killer storm struck.
Drake had experienced his share of storms, both as a human and Amberdrake, but this was almost more than he could fathom. Wind howled through the pass, driving snow before it in a blizzard that would kill anything that was caught out in it. Drake had Sebastian man the Gatehouse, just in case some poor fool had been trying to make one last trip before the snows. After the first day, he brought a grateful Sebastian back into the inn proper.
“Master Drake, we’re going to have to do something about keeping that place warmer if someone is going to be out there in a storm. The bell-rope hole sucked the heat out, and I had a hard time keeping a fire in the firebox. The wind either sucked the heat up the chimney, or blew embers out the grate.”
Drake nodded. He had been magically seeking and blocking drafts and leaks throughout the inn, and that the gatehouse was leaky as well didn’t surprise him. Just shows that I am not, and never have been, a Master Builder.
The storm closed the pass, and Drake had the outer gates closed as well. He used a large amount of power to clear the worst of the snow from the compound, much to the satisfaction of the men. They had been half convinced that they were going to be shoveling the yard clear enough to exercise the horses. Chores still took up half of the day for all of them, but the after midday hours were empty. This was why Drake had bought supplies for the servants to keep their hands busy. Sebastian took to teaching the other men games of chance, though Drake had words with him the first time he saw the dice.
“No gambling for money, Sebastian. None of the others have any idea what the purpose of these games is. If you want to teach them, then use wooden chips, not coins.” Sebastian looked sour at that, but nodded his understanding.
The inn settled down, and Drake had Sadie helping him make beer and ale. She was quiet, and he suspected that her low price still rankled. There was nothing he could do about that, but he did try to keep her spirits up, encouraging her to take the initiative when there was a task that she could handle alone.
The other women spent their hours knitting and embroidering—and talking. Drake and the other men shook their heads, amazed that there was so much to talk about in an empty inn in the middle of winter. Drake sighed, then turned a deaf ear to them. In my three hundred and twenty years, I have never managed to understand women.
The winter passed, and the warm breezes from the south melted the snow and brought the travelers back. Nicholas came looking for Drake, and was boisterously happy to see that he had survived the winter.
“Well, Cousin, you made it. What did you think of our winter?”
“Impressive. I’ve seldom seen fiercer storms, though there are places that receive more snow,” Drake answered, allowing Sadie to see to the arriving guests.
“Perhaps, but it’s the wind that’ll kill you,” Nicholas said, looking around. “I’m impressed. I didn’t realize you’d built so big.”
“I wanted enough room for a full caravan to be inside the walls for the night. Come inside, I have something for you.” Drake led Nicholas to the tap and drew two mugs. “Try this.”
Nicholas sipped cautiously, then took a long swig. His eyes opened wide, and he finished the mug before bringing it down from his mouth. “Damn! That’s good! I hope you’re willing to share that recipe.”
“I am. It’s the family recipe from the Empire. I noticed the differences between it and yours.” Drake grinned and drew Nicholas a second mug. “I also have a recipe of my own, developed by another friend and myself over three years of experimentation.”
Nicholas looked about, nodding as he saw the inside of the inn clearly. “That’s a lot of glass, Drake. Where did you find it? There is not a glazier who can produce that anywhere around here.”
“I told you, I’m a Mage. The glass is from the minerals in the hills. I made it myself as soon as I had the buildings finished. I made more during the winter, and I’ll be shipping it to the markets of both duchies. Profits up here are going to be slim for a while.”
Nicholas shook his head and accepted a room for the night. The inn was surprisingly crowded, and Drake and his servants were busy late into the night. Word had spread during the winter about the crazed fool and his inn in the pass, and a large number of curious people came just to see the inn. Among them was Lord Parker, the Lord of Kelsey.
“You are the man responsible for this?” he asked, looking down his nose at Drake.
“I am, Lord Parker. How may I serve you?” Drake answered, cautiously.
“This inn is on Genleaf’s territory. You did not have permission to build here.” The lord snapped, surveying the inn and nodding. “Vacate the premises immediately.”
“No, Lord Parker, you are mistaken,” Drake corrected the lord cautiously. “This inn is more than ten miles inside Highsterad’s territory. I have the deed to the land and permission to build from Lord High Councilor Mason Durand, of Duke Rayburn Fromest’s court in Cederholm.”
“Insolent bastard!” the lord snapped, his hand snaking out to strike Drake’s cheek. “I’ll tell you where the border is. This is Genleaf’s territory.”
Drake rubbed his stinging cheek, his eyes narrowing. “Lord Parker, I would suggest that you and your retinue return to Kelsey. I will be filing a complaint with Lord Durand concerning your attempt to annex Highsterad’s territory. I am sure that Duke Rayburn will be most interested.”
Drake’s refusal to back down was a distinct shock to Lord Parker. So was his threat. “You dare not cross me, fool. I have the power to make you regret the day you were born.”
Drake laughed at that, throwing his head back and holding his belly as he howled with laughter. “Me? Regret the day I was born? Oh, I do, I assure you, I do. But as for you, I think you need to know what kind of enemy you are making.” Drake flared into bright, golden light. The lord and his people covered their eyes, and when they looked again they screamed in terror as they fled.
The Daemon looked at the terrified lord through narrowed eyes. “You will never come here again, Lord Parker,” he snarled, his voice sounding like the hiss of hot steel quenching in blood. “You will never threaten me or my people. Is that understood?”
Lord Parker was backing away, but the Da
emon followed until he broke and ran, his feet flying over the packed dirt of the yard. Another flare of light, and Drake was standing in the yard, laughing at the fleeing lord.
The servants had watched part of the scene, and returned to their work, disturbed by what they had seen. One thought was running through all their minds: What is Master Drake?
The summer passed quietly, with traders coming to like and respect Drake and his people. Drake brewed beer, Sadie served from the tap, Robyn cooked, with Jael as her helper, and the rest of the women served the customers in the main room. Sebastian had a chair by the door, and the infrequent fight quickly subsided under his fierce glare or iron-hard fists. Waite, Andrew, and Kelson saw to the beasts and the yard, arranging the wagons so that there was no confusion as to whose was whose. Then one day, a woman walked into the inn.
Sebastian stood, as did half of the men in the main room. She was tall, elegant, and obviously wealthy. Her hair was golden, and her eyes were bright, leaf green. She was dressed in a flowing gown of green and gold that looked to be worth more than fifty gold crowns. Her eyes surveyed the room, finally alighting on Drake.
“So there you are. I’ve been looking for you.”
Drake was surprised by her comment. Who could she be? Then the color combination caught his attention. Green and gold? Switching to a different language, he said one word. “Sahrendrake.”
Sahrendrake laughed, and answered in the same language. “You invited me to try it, Amberdrake. I must say, these human bodies have some surprises. Pleasant and otherwise. What name do you use among these?” she asked, gesturing to the staring men.
“Drake. And you? What name will you use?”
“Sahren. I have used it before.” Switching back to the common language of the area, she grinned broadly. “Well, Drake, are you just going to stand there?”
The Chronicles of Amberdrake Page 44
