She had left that horse at a farm and when the time came she would find a replacement. There had been no sign of the Severon or any other military patrols in the village this morning and now that the noon sun had long since passed she felt safe to emerge from her hiding place. Her body screamed in protest as she stood from her prone position. She itched from not having a proper bath. Wading in streams and rivers was not the same as relaxing in steaming water. She felt the weight of the gold in the pouch she’d taken from a traveling merchant while he slept at his makeshift camp. Perhaps I’ll treat myself tonight, she thought.
Sterling made her way down the winding path until she reached the edge of the village. The main street ran from one end of the village to the other with smaller avenues veering off like tentacles. The main street was quiet after the long afternoon of bustle. She made her way toward the only pub in town. The Crow’s Head, she weakly grinned to herself looking at the pub sign, I’m almost hungry enough to eat a crow’s head right now. She paused before entering, looking over her shoulder for any followers. Satisfied she was alone, Sterling pushed the door open and entered the darkened interior. She’d made a habit of not making a flashy entry, but no matter how quiet her entrance she felt all eyes on her as the door swung shut behind her.
Sterling avoided eye contact with the other patrons as she scanned the pub. A booth in the far corner looked inviting. She walked the perimeter of the room keeping one eye on the pub’s customers as she slid into the chair. Her back was to the wall, so she could see the entire pub. The smell of food cooking wafted into the dining room, enticing Sterling. She had not eaten a proper meal in what seemed like days, not since she’d caught a fish in one the of streams she’d crossed.
Hemi would have beaten her rear raw if he knew of all the things she’d done since she fled the orphanage. Stealing, lying, killing, taking things from good and innocent people. Her eyes lost focus as the thought of Hemi jumped to the forefront of her mind. He’d only been inches from her when he died. She swore that she would bring revenge down upon the Commander tenfold for what he’d done to Hemi. She missed them all so much she felt emptiness in her heart. Just breathing was painful when thoughts of Mother Anwell and Hemi and all the other girls came to her.
She missed Brigit most of all.
The waitress startled Sterling. “What can I get you, dear?”
“Uh, ale, I suppose, and whatever food you have.” Sterling looked up into the plump face of the waitress. Her eyes were shining, cheeks rosy from the warmth of the pub. Sterling knew the instant the woman saw her silver eyes. The light behind her brown eyes vanished and the smile melted into a frown.
“We don’t serve your kind here.”
Frustrated by the woman’s attitude Sterling plunked the bag of gold down on the table, “I have coin for food and a bed.”
The wench simply scoffed and sniffed. “Your money’s no good here. I don’t care if you have the Orom’s personal gold kurons in there.” Slowly and forcefully, the waitress made her message as clear to Sterling as possible by saying the words slowly. “We don’t serve your kind. Now get out of our inn.”
“My kind?” Sterling narrowed her eyes and rose to meet the woman’s glare. She was tired, she was angry, and most of all she was starving. The woman’s attitude ignited Sterling’s fury, “I’m not leaving until you serve me.”
“We’ll just see about that,” the woman growled at Sterling as she stepped through the swinging doors of the kitchen. Sterling replaced the pouch of gold back on her belt and stared out into the dining room. She realized then that she’d gained the attention of the other customers. She felt exposed without her hood to conceal her eyes. She averted her gaze to a scratch in the wood table in front of her and tried to sink further into the darkness.
“A what?” Sterling jumped at the booming voice that came from the kitchen. It was followed by a burly man who pushed through the swinging doors. “I’ll be damned if I serve a Devian at my inn. I don’t need the eyes of the Severon on me.” Sterling sat up straight, her eyes widening at the man that stood before her. He was a mass of blubber, hair and sweat. His shirt was stained with food and filth. His round face was red from the heat of the kitchen fire. Meaty hands were propped on his rotund waist as he stared down at Sterling.
She stared back into his eyes that were nearly invisible behind the folds of fatty skin. She was accustomed to fear and confusion when people saw her unusual eyes, but this man looked down at her with hatred in his. What had she done to deserve this man’s hate? Just because I’m a Devian? Anger seeped into her skin as he looked down at her. She could feel her skin burning with the anger, muscles throbbing with the rising heat.
“What happened, did you eat the last Devian?” she egged the man out of anger.
Sterling blinked and realized she was on her feet, as the man effortlessly gathered her up one handed by the front of her shirt, pulling her toward him until she was inches from his face. The man snarled. “Yeah, although judgin’ by your skin and bone ass, you’ll jus’ be an appetizer.”
A new voice unexpectedly entered the conversation. “So much for Hemrac hospitality.”
She turned her head to find a man standing next to her and the cook. He had his hands pressed between them, trying to separate them. She looked down and felt her cheeks blush when she saw his warm hand pressed a little too conveniently against her breast. The cook spat on the floor and dropped her back into her chair. Great, Sterling thought. Try not to draw too much attention to yourself. The pub is the perfect place to lay low. Just another face in the crowd. Sterling huffed and blew a stray strand of hair from her forehead.
“Like I told the girl, I’m not serving a Devian. They are bad luck and I don’t need any of that,” the cook said, wiping his hand on the blood smeared apron that barely fit around his rotund waist.
“Bertrand,” the man had a smooth way of talking, though his accent was not Dueninian, “regardless of where she’s from her money is no different than yours or mine.” He had a smile on his lips as he winked at Sterling. “She’s a customer, so therefore you need her, am I mistaken?”
Bertrand pointed a sausage like finger at Sterling, “I don’t care. I’m not taking her money.”
The man thumbed a single silver rina at Bertrand. “Then take mine.”
Bertrand caught the coin with swift, surprisingly nimble fingers. He huffed and finally nodded. “Fine,” he glared down at Sterling before he turned and retreated to the bowels of the kitchen.
“May I?” The man motioned to the seat across from Sterling. He seemed harmless enough with his blonde hair and blue eyes. She examined him for a moment before answering. She was wary, but he had come to her aid. Mother Anwell would scold her for not returning the favor and offering him a place to sit, but she told herself to be cautious. She motioned to the vacant seat and with a smile he melted his tall frame into the chair. “Name’s Kellen, Kellen Leiten.” He seemed almost too cheerful. His blue eyes sparkled in the darkness as if there was some inner light behind them.
“And you are?” He hinted for Sterling to give up her name, but she was too cautious to willingly divulge her name to this strange man. She continued to watch him from the corner of her eye. He had a constant smile on his lips and his teeth were strong and white. Sterling was mesmerized by the aura that surrounded him. He was like a prince that had stepped out of one of Brigit’s fairy tales. His shoulders were broad and the white shirt he wore hung loosely on his muscular frame. He was so completely different than any other Dueninian she’d seen before.
“Berac.”
Sterling shook herself from her daze long enough to say, “Hmm?”
“I said, I’m from Berac,” he said, smiling slyly. That explained the crisp, throaty accent she noticed before. “Though, I’ve been here in Duenin for more than a year now.”
“Why so far from home?” Sterling’s curiosity got the better of her. Berac was to the far west and isolated by the Izanami Mountains. Sterling had o
nly heard stories of Berac and its rolling hills of vineyards and the crystal blue water that ran along the coastline.
“I’ll tell you if you give me your name?” He winked in amusement.
“I don’t need to know that bad,” Sterling responded trying her best to ignore Kellen.
“Fine, fine,” he chuckled, “My father expected me to take over the family business, and, well, he and I disagreed about that course. So, here I am finding my own way in the great land of Duenin.” He spread his arms wide as if the inn encompassed the entire world. “And you, you are not from around these parts either. What with those strange eyes of yours, I’d say you’re from…”
“New Alden. I’m from New Alden,” she lied. Her heart was racing. She did not want him to finish his words so she had cut him off and made up where she was from.
“A beautiful city indeed and one full of excitement.” He stood when the waitress returned with a platter of food.
Sterling stared down at the plate of food, her sense of guilt caused her stomach to turn. “Sterling,” she mumbled her name before he could retreat to the other side of the inn. “My name is Sterling.”
“Well, Sterling I will take my leave then. Perhaps we’ll see each other again.”
“I doubt it,” Sterling said around a mouth full of roast. Mother Anwell would have slapped the food out of her mouth for such atrocious manners, but her stomach was empty, and her need of food was far greater than any sense of decorum she may have once had. Peering over the rim of her cup, Sterling watched Kellen leave as she washed down the roast with the ale. He is an odd man indeed. Was he too cheerful? Perhaps that was the way of the Beracians.
She pushed Kellen Leiten out of her mind and focused in on the delicious meal that lay before her. Despite the grotesque appearance of the rude cook, he had a talent for cooking. The platter was filled with roasted beef, carrots, and potatoes. All of it was covered in a thick beef gravy that gave off the aroma of rosemary. The portion was huge, enough for a grown man to stuff himself, but she finished off the entire plate along with the bread that came with the meal. She washed it all down with the tankard of ale the waitress had brought.
The waitress was still wary of her when she returned to take the empty platter, giving Sterling a wide berth and side glances. She jumped when Sterling asked for a room. “There is one available, but it’s the most expensive.”
“I’ll take it,” Sterling said without hesitation. She was quietly thanking the rich merchant she pilfered the coins from.
The waitress eyed the gold then added, “It’s the last room on the right at the end of the hall.”
“I’d also like a bath brought up with hot water.”
Sterling found the room the waitress had indicated and opened the door and stood dumbstruck. This was the most expensive? It was nothing more than an old worn out bed and a threadbare rug. There was a small table with a chipped wash basin. It smelled of old body odor along with other aromas that Sterling did not want to identify. Luckily the room had a window. Sterling bypassed the bed and pushed open the window. The night was warm, and it let in some fresh air. The room overlooked the stable yard of the inn. Just below the window a short roof jutted out that covered the back porch where the kitchen was located.
There was a sharp rap at the door, “Your bath miss.” Sterling opened the door to two housemen who brought in a large copper wash tub and two buckets of steaming water. The tub sat in the middle of the room on the threadbare rug and took up most of the empty space. The first boy reached into his pocket and handed her a bar of soap wrapped in a thin cloth.
“Thank you,” she said as she handed them each a copper berg. The light in their eyes told Sterling that the fat owner didn’t give them much in the way of wages. They were thankful for the coins she gave them.
As soon as the housemen left and shut the door, Sterling threw off her clothes and shoes as quickly as possible and stepped into the tub. It was large enough for Sterling to sit down and have the water come to her chest, the sides reaching up over her shoulders so just her head was above the rim. The water was hot and soothed her tired muscles. The heavy pendant that hung between her breasts felt lighter in the water. She lifted the stone and examined it in the light. Hemi had told her it had once belonged to her mother and that it was precious to her. What was so special about this stone? All it did now was remind her of what she’d lost. She’d thought about selling it for gold but had stopped herself before going through with it. After all it was the only thing she had left from her old life. She let the stone fall where it slowly sank and lay once again against her heart.
She sat there a minute relaxing for the first time in two weeks. The Severon had dogged her the entire way. If she stayed in one place for too long they would inevitably show up and she’d be on the run again. But she hadn’t seen them in three days and with no sign of them riding into Hemrac from her hedgerow hiding place, she felt confident for the first time that they had finally lost her trail.
Before the water started to grow cold she lathered the thin cloth with soap and washed the dirt and grime from her travels. Her skin was bright pink before she was complete, but once satisfied Sterling dunked her head under the water to rinse away the filth. She thought about what would happen tomorrow. She still had some ways to go before she reached Kai’Vari. Would she be able to stay ahead of the Severon? Sterling came up for air and turned her attention to her hair. Using the soap again, she washed the sweat and dirt from its long strands. Satisfied, she dunked her head back under the water to rinse out the suds.
Once again, she emerged from the water gasping for air. Soap ran into her eyes and she reached for the bath towel one of the housemen had provided. Eyes closed, she fumbled for the towel. Grasping the roughhewn cloth she stood, but the sensation of being watched suddenly sent a chill down her spine, goosebumps prickled her skin. She quickly wiped her eyes and gasped in shock when she realized she wasn’t alone. Kellen Leiten was settled back on a stool, boots propped against the lip of the tub. That sly, handsome grin stretched from ear to ear, like a happy fox that had just gorged itself on a fat hen.
“What are you doing in my room?” She wrapped the small, oh so small piece of cloth around her body. “How long have you been there?”
There was a knowing smile in his eyes. “Long enough to know you can hold your breath for a very long time.” Sterling could feel her cheeks start to burn.
She tugged at the bath sheet again and crossed her arms. “Show’s over. Now get out,” she growled. The smile in his eyes quickly vanished as he stood and advanced on her. Sterling’s heart rate went up a notch as she prepared to defend herself. But when he didn’t attack she was taken off guard. He went past her to the door. He opened it just a crack and listened for a moment. When he turned back to her he was a completely different person. His eyes were fierce, and the smile was gone. He was no longer the jovial man that had rescued her earlier.
“You may not have liked the way I came to tell you, but I thought,” he said, looking over his shoulder at her, “you would be interested to know that the Severon are here.”
The words he uttered drained the blood from Sterling’s face. Her body went numb at the mention of the army that had doggedly tracked her like a hound. How had they found her? It had been three days since she last saw them. She’d been so careful to cover her tracks and to stay out of sight, not venturing into any villages and staying off the main roads.
“Quickly now, get dressed.” She heard his words from a great distance, but she couldn’t comprehend what he was saying. She just stood there and watched as he braced the lone chair in the room under the handle on the door. He must have noticed she was not moving and came over to her, placing his hands on her bare shoulders, “Sterling.” He gave her a quick shake. Sterling blinked at her name and came out of her fog, “Sterling, quickly now. Get dressed, they are just downstairs. We can escape out the window, but you must get dressed.”
Her body started to move on it
s own. Ignoring the fact that Kellen was there with her she dropped the sheet and quickly pulled on her clothes. She regretted that they were still filthy, she had wanted to wash them as well. There was nothing she could do about it now as she laced up her trousers. She pulled the leather vest on over her once white shirt then sat down to pull on her boots.
“Are you ready yet?” She could hear the impatience in his voice.
“Yes, I’m ready.”
“Come on.” Kellen left his post at the door and climbed out the window. He held a hand out for her, but Sterling was frozen in place as the handle on the door started to turn. “Sterling,” he whispered with forceful urgency.
When the door failed to open there was a loud knock on the door, “You in there, open up.”
“Sterling.” Kellen reached back in the window and grabbed hold of her arm and yanked her out the window just as the door came crashing in.
Still in a fog, Sterling found herself being pulled toward two horses Kellen had waiting. The fog disappeared when Sterling heard a familiar voice behind her bark, “She jumped out the window!” Sterling’s legs stopped on their own accord as she turned and saw the man that brought terror to her. Looking out the open window above her was the man responsible for the death of everyone she loved. Commander Engram. She felt a fire start in her heart, a fire of hate that filled her body and she started to turn back to the inn. No longer stopped in terror, she decided she was going to kill that man for what he’d done.
Pointing at her, Engram yelled, “Stop right there Devian!”
Kellen rode in front of her blocking her view of the window. “Sterling! Get on the damn horse!”
The Elemental Union: Book One Devian Page 6
