“I do care people may come in. I like privacy, especially in my position. But otherwise, I don’t mind. I don’t feel shame to be myself and certainly not to be with you. It’s not as if we were still hiding. Our friends know. The whole kingdom knows. So, who cares? This is nature.”
“I know. You are right. This is what I wanted. This is what I craved. Yet, I never thought the step would be so hard to take.” Selen’s cheek was warm against his. He felt the curve of the round cheekbone and breathed in the soft, honeyed perfume of his smooth skin.
“There is no step but the one you wish to take,” Selen whispered.
And sometimes, you force my hand. “Selen, last time at the tavern…”
“I’m sorry. I caused you shame…”
“You didn’t.” It had been embarrassing, but Selen’s open possessiveness had proved a major turn-on as well.
“…I just couldn’t tolerate… And after what you had suggested…”
Louis tried to remember what he had said. “Oh. Yes, I’m a bit guilty. But it was in the other life and before I met…him. I hope you don’t suggest I could…”
“No, no. But I can’t help it. Every time I felt attracted to someone, I ended up seeing him in women’s arms. I know I never confessed to them, but I didn’t understand how whores could be more interesting than me.” Selen chuckled. “Well, not all were whores, but I was so jealous and naïve.”
“I permit you to call them gorgons.” Louis smiled. “Women seek engagement and a status. They are no match to deep bonds, but I admit it can be irritating—should you care enough. Flippant admirers coveting what is yours. Sometimes, I wondered if the flowers on the table were mine or theirs.”
“Yes, you’re more into courtly love.” Selen teased him. “Flowers, poetry…”
“Courtly love is a long and boring process to win someone’s favors. When you, my innocent primitive, plucked what your heart desired.” Louis wrapped his arms around Selen. “That’s why you get flowers and verses.” He tilted his head and looked at him. “If you never made the first step before, how did you find the strength for me?”
“In my world, friendships like ours were not so common. Men searching for that kind of affection were often filled with lust. When older, they taught from their experience against favors. When younger, many were into it for the thrill, the exoticism. Some were pretty, even beautiful, and…fired my heart, but they ogled my ass and lips before asking my name. My feelings would have been turned into ridicule. You. You stared into my eyes and…you oozed kindness.”
Louis chuckled. “I’ve not heard that one a lot.” And I did ogle you. You can be so sweetly naïve, indeed. “But I see your point. Such a fact is timeless. Libidinous pleasure-seekers, they hump equally the front and the back. Unfortunately, few can understand the virtuous feelings of love.” He patted Selen’s shoulder. “My head swims. Are you hungry?”
“I remember I smelled ham.” Selen rose and helped him up. Louis rectified his clothes. “Should I encourage Lilo to drink every time the innkeeper bows?” Selen chuckled.
“We know Lilo sober. I am not sure I want to see how he turns once drunk.”
“You fall into each of his jokes. You should try to outsmart him.” Selen made for the door. “I wonder if he knows how much we both like him.”
“He is our closest friend. I hope he does.” Louis grabbed Selen’s hand and gave him a last kiss before he opened the door.
They went out of the room. Noises rose from the main room downstairs. Louis looked at the hall on their sides. It was dark and lit by one candle only. He wondered why the owners had built a hall so narrow. If there were a fire, it would be easier to jump through the bedroom’s window than to gather in the hall. Now he thought about it, he wasn’t sure everyone could be able to pass through the windows either. The stairs were close to a ladder. What worked for a mansard wasn’t functional for an inn. Maybe it was a choice they had made to get larger rooms.
Louis and Selen stepped into the main room. A pleasant smell of soup welcomed them. Beside their group sat four more customers. A man preciously guarding a large bag looked to be a pedlar. He wore a red coat and matching chaperon turban. Against his feet stood an empty portable stall. On the other side sat a couple wearing the acorn of the pilgrims over their capuchons. The last customer had a tired, scruffy face and the appearance of someone who fitted better in a cheap tavern than in an inn. Louis knew that to outstare such men only brought trouble. Yet, the man shifted his gaze first.
He took a seat on the bench near his friends. Noticing that their table was complete, Borin minced towards them.
“My lords. We have prepared a delicious dinner especially for you. We guess that after such a long road you must be starving. We will start with a mushroom soup.”
“What is that delicious smell? Is it pork?” Folc asked.
“Yes, my lord. We killed one of our pigs and roasted it in a crust of mustard. It will be served with turnips from our garden and a sage sauce.” The innkeeper proceeded in cutting the bread for the trenchers and placed the slices in front of each of them.
“It’s terribly isolated here,” Lissandro said to Borin.
“It’s for the quiet. We like it peaceful,” Borin said. “The first village is far.”
“But do you manage to get customers?” Lissandro asked.
“This path is a shortcut towards the south. We have pilgrims, merchants, or travelers. And we take good care of our guests.” Borin trotted towards the kitchen.
“It is a warm place. Travelers must be satisfied,” Ahanu said.
“Maybe. Then why isn’t the inn on the map?” Lissandro asked. Louis listened to him with interest. “The road is long to the priory. If I knew such a place existed, I would put it on the map, especially with the number of pilgrims passing by.” Lissandro pointed discreetly at some parts of the decoration which were made entirely with acorns.
“There is more than one map,” Selen said. “Maybe it’s not on ours.”
It was market day in Linfarne. If this place had been on the maps or well-known, there would have been more than four customers. Or maybe it was a seasonal place. The innkeeper’s wife came to the table with a tureen, followed by her niece, who carried bowls. She didn’t lose her time with amiabilities and served them a ladle each. Eliot received two. The wife deliberately dropped the liquid in front of Ahanu and Selen with the plainest condescendence. Selen managed to lean backwards in time while Ahanu had to brush the drops off his arm. Louis wanted to react but felt Selen’s touch on his arm indicating to let go. Lissandro did it for him.
“I would not mind a little more,” Lissandro said with provocation.
“Eat what’s in your bowl first, and keep your hands away from my niece,” Winifred snapped.
Now the four customers makes sense, Louis thought. He gazed at the niece who poured the wine. Though she wore a short wimple on her hair, her corsage was so low that he expected her tits to pop out of it. By the way he leered at her bosom, Askjell expected the same with great interest. Louis shifted his gaze with consternation. His eyes fell on Kilda, who stared above his shoulder.
“I know the man behind you,” she whispered. “I’ve seen him somewhere once. I don’t remember where, but I have a bad feeling.”
“So, my friends. Should we taste these mushrooms?” Lissandro said.
Mutters of approval answered him. Eliot plunged his spoon into the cream.
“Does it happen that you pray before dinner?” Louis asked the monk.
Eliot froze with the spoon in the air and glowered at him.
“Yes. It also occurred to me that—” Selen said before Lissandro cut him.
“Can we keep the monk-bashing for after the cheese and the fruits?”
And here goes the possibility of getting an answer. They all ate in silence. The scruffy man sitting behind him rose and opened the outside door. No one came from the kitchen to prevent the man from leaving. Louis waited and wondered if he would hear t
he barn’s door open or the noise of a horse. Yet, nothing came. The man didn’t come back either. A log tumbled in the chimney.
“Someone should push that back before the sparks reach the floor,” Folc said. “I can call the innkeeper.”
“It’s all right. I can do it,” Lissandro said. “I will add a new one at the same time.”
His friend rose, headed towards the hearth, and took a metal poke from its hook. A few minutes later, Lissandro came back to his seat.
“I don’t want to worry you, but I think someone left his femur among the coal,” Lissandro whispered.
“What?” Louis uttered, astounded.
“Or maybe they roast beef parts in there. I am not a doctor,” Lissandro said.
Borin swept from the kitchen with a large tray. “And here comes the house’s special dish. The pork in his crust.” He put the plate in the middle of the table, took out a large knife, and sliced the meat. The bowl with the turnips was passed around, as well as the sauce. Askjell excused himself and left his seat.
“It is a convivial hearth you have there,” Lissandro said. “Do you sometimes use it to cook in front of the guests?”
“It’s a nice one, isn’t it? My father had it built. No, we never use it to cook meat. Besides, we have a bigger one in the kitchen,” Borin answered before leaving them again.
Louis asked himself why the owners would need a bigger one in the kitchen if this place never had more than a couple of customers. There was not even an old road which could explain a previous prosperity.
“Lilo, is that pork?” Selen whispered.
Lissandro took a first bite. “It tastes of pork, but it’s not as if I had experience of…other kind of meat.”
“Look at the shape of this ham. What else do you expect it to be?” Kilda said and put two slices on her trencher.
Selen stayed on the turnips. The rest of them helped themselves to the meat. Louis noticed that the pedlar had left his table. He was soon followed by the couple of pilgrims who headed towards the stairs. Fidgeting with his knife, Louis tried to eat a bit of the pork, but Lissandro’s words kept running through his mind. He had a bad feeling. The air in the room became too warm.
“I need to take fresh air,” he said, getting up. “I’m fine,” he added towards Selen.
“I’ll come with you,” Lissandro said, exchanging looks with him. “I feel I ate as much as him.” He pointed to the pig.
Lissandro accompanied him outside. They had no cloaks. Yet, it didn’t matter. Louis knew where he was heading. “Why did you ask for two rooms only?” he asked Lissandro.
“Obsequiousness is not a mark of sincerity. I had a feeling.” Louis looked at him. “I thought the note would clean us out.”
Louis opened the barn’s door as silently as he could. A lantern shone in the back. On the sides, the horses stood in a row. He heard the squeaks of the pigs lying in their fold. Louis didn’t know if he was searching for something in particular. He had thought that if there was something wrong with the place, the answer must have been here. The presence of the horses reassured him. They could still leave whenever they wanted.
“There is nothing here, Louis,” Lissandro whispered. “We should go back to our friends before the innkeeper suspects something.”
They were returning towards the door when he heard moans come from behind the heap of hay in the rear. Was someone injured? With one hand on his dagger, he hurried towards the back, followed by Lissandro. What he saw made his blood boil. Askjell stood on his knees, pants down. One hand grabbing her bouncing breasts and one in her mouth, the squire boned the niece’s bare ass vigorously. When the boy turned his face towards them, it wasn’t even red with shame. Instead, he grinned and, grabbing the girl by her curly hair, turned her moaning, gaping mouth slightly towards them.
“She is up for it,” was all Askjell found out to say, almost as an invitation.
Usually, even when he didn’t approve it, Louis didn’t meddle in people’s private lives. Furthermore, the boy’s behavior was of his age and barely reprehensible. However, the squire was in his group, under his authority, and on a mission for the kingdom. In this case, this kind of scamp’s behavior was a stain on their image, on his honor. Louis felt the urge to kill him in the most painful way. Before he made a move, Lissandro rushed on Askjell and corrected him in a way that took Louis aback. The buxom girl fled, half-naked. Though Askjell raised his hands, Lissandro’s blows fell on him one after the other. Louis wouldn’t have minded giving the boy his share, but he considered that this should suffice. There was no need to injure him either.
“It’s enough, Lissandro,” Louis said. “I think he got it.”
Yet, Lissandro didn’t stop. Louis wasn’t sure he had even heard him.
“Lissandro?”
“Help me!” Askjell screamed. “Please.”
“Lissandro, enough!” He is going to kill him. Why didn’t the boy protect himself? Though probably ten years younger, Askjell was stronger than Lissandro and him. Louis knelt down behind his friend and grabbed his arms. “Lissandro, stop.”
With one move, Lissandro hurled him backwards. Louis’s head hit the ground. It did hurt. Yet, he felt lucky it had only been earth and not stone or a plank. Lissandro leaned over him.
“I’m so sorry. Are you all right?” Louis looked at him with the wish to throw him to the pigs. “I see you’re all right. Come.” Lissandro took his arm and pulled him to his feet.
Louis turned to the squire. He would carry bruises, but he wasn’t injured. “If I catch you whoring again, I’ll make sure you’ll write the rest of your chronicle in my jails should you survive this journey. Is that clear?” Askjell nodded. “Now go to the room and spare us from your sight and the shame that should be painted all over your face.”
The boy rose and crossed the barn in a hurry.
“And it is yes, Your Majesty!” Lissandro shouted after him.
“Yes. Yes, Your Majesty!” Askjell shouted back before he disappeared.
“I know you are still on the titles- and privileges-abolition mode, but you should insist on such details with everyone, not only the nobles. It’s important the people see you as their king and not as a common man,” Lissandro said.
“I’ll consider it.” Louis took the lantern. Massaging the back of his head, he walked towards Lissandro. A red stain in the hay called his attention.
“Can you hold that?” he said to Lissandro, handing the lantern over.
While Lissandro held the light, Louis examined the stain. He touched it and felt wool. Brushing the hay, he uncovered a hat. It was the pedlar’s chaperon. Louis dug deeper and uncovered the portable stall. The man would not have left the inn without his material. The light faded away.
“I think I’ve found the pedlar,” Lissandro said.
Louis joined him near the pigs’ fold and looked down. “And I think you’ve found more femurs.” The pigs stomped on red rags of clothes and gnawed with gluttony on human remains half buried in the mud.
“We tiptoe out of here and rejoin our group,” Lissandro said, turning towards the entrance.
“We should warn them and arrest the owners.”
“No. We should wait. We don’t know who did this. It’s not the first time we’ve found corpses on our way. We have no proof it was the owners. Besides, even if it were them, they won’t attack us. We are eight against four. But we should stay on our guard.”
If they could survive the night, it was wiser not to leave the inn until the next morning. Yet, could they sleep soundly if one of their groups shared its room with a murderer? Louis would have liked to solve this mystery once and for all, but Lissandro was right. They had no proof. And where was the shady man who had left in the night? He followed Lissandro out of the barn and into the main room again.
There wasn’t much left of the ham on the plate. Their friends cut pieces of bleu, soft, and ripe cheeses that they ate with chunks of brown bread filled with bacon and prunes. Folc and Ahanu shared a
cabbage sausage. Out of jars, Selen fished macerated fruits that looked like quinces and plums. Lissandro hurried to his seat and dragged a black cherries flan to him. And the witch fed them until they were ripe to be eaten.
“Do you feel better?” Selen asked when Louis sat next to him.
“Please, stop eating,” Louis said to Selen. They all made him sick. Dinner didn’t need to turn into an orgy of food. He had hoped the long months of alimentary asceticism he had imposed in Nysa Serin had taught them something, but now it seemed it all had been a loss of time. He would leave the table and return to his room if it wasn’t for the libertine sitting in it. It saddened him to realize that he had had a better control over his group when he had been furious and intransigent.
“I didn’t touch the meat,” Selen objected. Yet, he let go of the spoon in the jar and dried his hands. As if feeling something was wrong, Selen searched his eyes for an explanation.
Borin came from the kitchen with a flask in his hand. “I see you do justice to our food. I propose you conclude this dinner with our local liquor. A gentian from my personal reserve.” The innkeeper filled their mugs generously with a transparent eau-de-vie.
Louis knew that if his companions drank that hooch they would get sick as dogs. Somewhat, there would be a moral to all this. Selen raised his mug to his lips.
“You shouldn’t drink that,” Louis whispered.
Selen stopped his arm and sniffed. His eyes widened. He put the mug back on the table, hitting the flask with the back of his hand. The liquid spread over the table and spilled onto the laps of their friends on the other side.
“Damn, Selen, my clothes!” Kilda complained.
“I only had these pants left. I will reek for days, you useless…” Lissandro mumbled.
“I’m sorry,” Selen exclaimed and leaned over the board to clean the mess. “Don’t drink,” he added in a whisper.
Louis understood at once. He rose. “Pour your mugs in the fruits jar and go to your rooms, now.”
They exchanged looks. Guessing something was wrong, his companions complied and left the table. No one came from the kitchen to hold them back.
Light from Aphelion 2 - Tears of Winter Page 26
