Hilda's Inn for Retired Heroes

by Cyn Bagley

  When Davi realized that they were on their way to the stable, he struggled against her, saying "I gotta check on Michael."

  Hilda smiled down at him. "I have someone with him right now." She could tell that Davi could feel the salamander. It was enough to believe that the boy was a dragon. But she wanted full confirmation.

  "Sassy, sassy," Hilda called as they reached the small enclosed stove. Sassy popped out of the top of the stove.

  "Hildy" she called back. "Play?" And then the salamander saw Davi. "Oh fun playmate," she said. And she jumped into Davi's arms. There was surprise and then delight in Davi's face as Sassy twined around his arms and body. There was a slight smoky smell coming from his clothes, but his body didn't burst into flames.

  So here was the proof. The boy was either a magician with fire talent or a dragon.

  She sat on a hay bale and watched the joy as the two of them played together. After awhile, she sent Sassy back to the stove and patted the bale. "Sit down," she said to Davi.

  It was then that Davi had that uh-oh look on his face. Yes, he was much younger than he looked.

  Just come out and say it, she thought. "Are you a dragon?"

  The look on Davi's face changed from uh-oh to fear. Hilda knew that look. She had seen it on many young warriors when they were going into their first battle. Some of these young men lived, but many of them died.

  "Oh Davi," she said. "You are too young to be a spy."

  "Needs must," Davi mumbled in his hands.

  They sat quietly on the hale bale. Sassy was burbling in the stove and Hilda wanted to put her arm around the young boy, dragonling, whatever he was. "Tell me how you met Michael," she asked.

  He lifted his head up and talked about the farmhouse where he had been hiding and Michael's kindness. He told her about the village and the mage who had turned the village into a playhouse for a demon. Michael had done everything he could for the villagers and for Davi.

  "Does Michael know you are not human?"

  Davi shook his head, no. "He was hurt really bad and was unconscious for a long time."

  She didn't mention that the wounds had been healed before they made it to Hilda's Inn. She suspected that she knew part of the story he was not revealing. There had been another dragon involved.

  "He mentioned this place so I took him here. I don't mean to spy, but we don't know anything about you humans except that you kill everything in your path. I guess I am not a very good spy."

  "No," said Hilda. "You are just too young to be a spy."

  "Yes," he said, simply. He hung his head down and looked at his toes. It was such a typical youngster move that Hilda's heart melted just a little.

  "You know, I'll need to set a guard on you," she had the perfect person to keep Davi out of trouble and it wasn't her Salamander.

  He shook his head yes and waited. At least she was not going to chain him up and hand him over to the authorities. He had thought that Hilda was more law-abiding since she had been a soldier for so many years. It made him blink just a little.

  A few minutes later he was in the Inn sitting next to a few of the retired heroes as they played their endless games of chance. One of the retirees asked if he had a set of dice. He blinked again and said softly that no, he knew nothing about these types of games. The men's faces reflected glee, another chicken to pluck.

  Hilda nodded at Stefan, the oldest of the bunch.

  Stefan might allow the chicken to be plucked at poker, but he would guard the dragon-boy with his life if it came down to that. She needed to keep Davi safe. If she could keep the boy safe, she might gain favors from other dragons.

  Hilda had learned from many years as a mercenary and now as an Innkeeper that advantages kept her little family safe from powerful men, thieves, and murderers. Many of the Lords and Ladies could fit in the thief and murderer category even though they did not belong to the guilds. For many years they had been allowed free rein on the populace. Many of them considered the lower classes as pawns in their never-ending games.

  Hilda had to play those games if she wanted to keep her people safe. Plus being a mage, although a hidden mage, put her in danger. The people of this land knew of black mages and assumed every mage was black. It was dangerous for anyone who had any talent. It was one of the reasons she kept her gift hidden.

  Now that Stefan had taken Davi under his wing, she left to check the kitchen. There was always drama in the kitchen. But this time Rob was eating stew and the cook was sitting next to them.

  Hilda went to Michael's room.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Delhaven, port city

  Lord Barton’s castle

  The spymaster's face was gray and motionless, but anger bubbled and raged when he glanced at the mage. When he walked in daylight the sun stabbed his skin. Plus he was weak in the day. It had become harder and harder to resist the mage's voice, and rage reddened his eyes and fogged his brain. His only peace was at night in the cemetery near the graves.

  He should be dead, but he still walked. As his brain putrefied, he still knew he had lost something more important than wealth and power. The loss of his soul twisted him with hate. The longer he stayed unburied, the longer he would become a creature of evil and he would transfer his hate to everyone living including the mage. His gentler emotions were distant and were as decayed as his brain.

  In the tower he waited as the mage mixed potions. If his brain could work as quickly as it did in life, he would have been able to come up with a good way to kill the mage. He lost this opportunity when he didn't kill the mage before his heart was ripped out. He had been warned by his spies that the mage was inimical to him. He hadn't listened, thinking that Lord Barton would take their childhood friendship over the mage's power. He was wrong.

  Now the spymaster's apparel was ripped and smudged with grave dirt. When he tried to think, he could feel the sluggishness of a dead brain. If he had been able to look down, he would have seen his own blood, turning black, near where his heart had lain in his breast. It was now in one of the mage's bottles. No doubt, it would be used after his true death for one of the mage's spells.

  The mage turned towards the spymaster. "I have a duty for you," he said. "You will find the male child that carries his scent." He put the potion up towards the Draugr's nose. "You will bring this child back to me unharmed."

  The Draugr's rage surged. As the spymaster became more Draugr than man, he preyed on the young and weak. The mage was the only one who could control him now--and he would have to to follow the mage's words. Inside a small sane part of the spymaster's mind, the part that was almost dead wished for death. This small almost extinguished part prayed constantly to die to any god that would hear him.

  No one heard him.

  After the instructions, the mage shooed him out of the tower. The Draugr, less and less the spymaster, clumped down the tower's stairs and hid in a closet for night.

  If he could only sleep, but since his heart had been ripped out of his body, he had been unable to sleep. The colors had grown gray as his eyesight deteriorated. His body hurt as he moved. He could feel bits of flesh and skin that were not flexible. He was losing his ability to feel textures and his taste. When he first became a Draugr, he had tried to eat in the common room with the rest of the vassals. He could feel the textures and taste sawdusty.

  Now that he was a full-blown Draugr, taste was gone. The food didn't give him energy. He craved flesh. At least smell was denied him too. When he found a mouse or other mammal, he ripped them apart and ate their dripping flesh. He was slipping away. Soon he would be full Draugr.

  If the mage knew that his personality was there, however little, he would have killed him long ago. The mage considered him the perfect servant. The Draugr never denied his wishes because he had to or he would die the true death. He was forever in his debt.

  The mage forgot about the rage of the Draugr. If the mage ever took away his attention, the Draugr would rend him limb from limb, thereby allowing th
e Draugr to die. Death held no mystery. He was already dead. There was no way of going back to the living.

  If the Draugr could cry, although his tears had dried up, he would. The small part of him that was still there was about to do something terrible. This child, the one he smelled in the potion, was the key to the mage's plans. He would find the child and then he would kill it. It couldn't be simpler. Then the mage would have to kill him.

  Delhaven, port city

  Hilda's Inn

  As the weather of the few days switched from mist to rain and to mist again, Davi found his place in the working inn. Rob showed him how to muck the stables and handle the horses. At first the horses had been nervous because they sensed that Davi was not fully human. They threw their heads, whinnied, and stomped in their stalls. As he went about his duties and made friends with the horses, they began to trust him. Stefan, his guard, sat on a bench inside the stable and shuffled cards.

  Soon Davi was the stable boy who grabbed the reins of traveler's horses. Davi was such a fixture in the inn that many of the older mercenaries had already forgotten that he was new and had come with Michael. Stefan kept a tight rein on Davi's activities. Plus he kept Hilda informed on the boy.

  Davi spent some of his days with the clerk, learning to read and write. Hilda would laugh and tell him if he wanted to learn more about humans that he would need to be able to read their communications.

  On his breaks, Sassy would come out to play, winding around Davi and playing with his hair. Even though he was a dragonling and wasn't fully grown or fully transformed, he still had an immunity to fire. Sassy loved cooing at the boy. Plus she claimed that Davi was also an elemental.

  Davi would throw sticks in the fire for Sassy to catch and he would pet her until she curled up in the fire to watch him work. Stefan was one of the few people to meet Sassy. He was more worried that she kept her playing in the enclosed stove. A fire in the stable could be disastrous.

  To Hilda every time Davi ate, he grew. It was alarming how his pants seemed to get shorter and shorter. She wanted to wait until Davi got his full height, but if she waited too long, he would not be able to fit in his pants.

  Davi still went up to visit Michael. Michael was still weak from his adventure. His lungs were starting to clear and Davi would help him walk down the stairs into the courtyard to sit on the benches and breathe fresh air. Sometimes Michael would play cards with one of the older retirees. One of the drooling men who had lost his teeth many years before would wipe Michael out of his chips in minutes. Michael didn't have any money so he would trade magic tricks of light and illusion for his debts. It kept the retirees amused.

  When a frail Michael was able to drag himself down the stairs without Davi's help, Michael cornered Hilda. "We need to talk," he said.

  She nodded. The front of her blouse was soaking wet from washing the linens for the inn in a big tub. There was a fire under the tub, and she stirred the linens until they became white and clean. She had been hanging the linens on the wash line when Michael cornered her.

  "Let me finish this job," she said, "and then I'll change my blouse. We'll talk then."

  He shuffled to the bench and sat down. Hilda could see that Michael was white from the effort. Even with the help of the dragon, Davi had told her of their side trip, Michael's health was not rebounding for someone so young.

  Davi assured her that it would take many months for him to grow back the soul that had been taken from him. It still worried Hilda. She was waiting for the other shoe to drop. She hadn't heard from Lord Barton or his tax collectors since the last letter. She had not made enough money to keep the inn. What would she do with her retirees, Davi, and her brother if she lost the it?

  They were not as young as they had been when they had fought on the fields of battle. Most of them were living day to day with no way to care for themselves. She had hired many veterans to work in her bar, stables, and rooms. They could do only so much. Some of them had lost limbs.

  It took her an hour to finish the rest of the linens, and then a few minutes to change her blouse. Michael looked white and wan when she sat down beside him.

  "I suspect that what you have to say will affect everyone here."

  Michael nodded. "When I was in the mage's university, there was a rumor that the King was going to step down. The rumor was so persistent that the student's began speculating on who would take the King's place."

  "That's treasonous," said Hilda. She was a little shocked.

  Michael's white face was serious. A lone bird chirped in a tree.

  "Before I left the university, a man tried to recruit me into a group that was planning the over-throw of the monarchy. He insisted that we should have a free cities like the Bremens."

  "The Bremens are crazy," Hilda interjected. "They think that every man should have the vote even if he is a beggar."

  Michael nodded his head at her assessment. "It was then," Michael continued, "that I realized that there must be more behind this club. I went to a couple of meetings. A man covered in a mask and cloak for his safety led the discussions. As you know I have a spell for enhanced hearing."

  Hilda shifted on the bench. No, she didn't know about that spell. It could be useful.

  "The man told someone behind a curtain that he had these stupid students in the palm of his hand. I could hear the murmur from the other side of the curtain. Something of Lord Barton would be pleased."

  A sweat bead rolled from Michael's forehead to his cheek. Hilda wiped it from his face.

  "I sold everything. I bought a horse and supplies. It took me too long to get here. I think the students involved in that club were enslaved. I left before the big ceremony." He slumped. "I didn't know what you could do, but I was hoping for some help for my friends. I even placed a geas on myself. It is too late now."

  "Is the geas gone?" she asked. Her brother nodded, yes.

  Hilda wrapped her arms around her brother as he cried in her arms. She had lost many comrades-at-arms and she knew his grief. He had been holding it in for a long time. With the emotional turmoil bleeding out of him, he would start to heal. She held him close until the wind started to blow through the courtyard. Then she pulled out a handkerchief and wiped his eyes.

  Her brother was grown-up, but there were times when a man had to cry. As the tears disappeared she could see the determination in his eyes. Together they would stop Lord Barton.

  Now there was more reason to deny Lord Barton the magic on her property.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Delhaven, port city

  Hilda's Inn

  That afternoon Mary Rose sent a young boy, in ripped and dirty clothes, with a message: "The Draugr walks tonight." The boy left without getting a biscuit, disappeared into an alley behind the inn.

  The note chilled Hilda. She had fought Draugrs in the war. To kill a Draugr, you had to first chop them up and then burn the pieces. Every piece of the body could fight independently until you either killed the man who had made the Draugr or burned it.

  Even then the mercenaries didn't know if the Draugr went to the final peace. The thought of a Draugr ghost would scare even the most hardened mercenary. Two things scared a fighting man: to fight an undead or to become an undead. It took a very evil mage to deal in dark enough powers to make one.

  Hilda walked up the stairs to Michael's room. Michael still looked frail. Davi had assured her that her brother would survive and that the taint was gone. But it would take a long time before he was strong enough to do magic again. Her heart clenched. This brother. She hoped he would get well enough to enjoy life again.

  He looked so solemn now.

  "We have a Draugr walking tonight," she told Michael.

  "You need some way to burn it," he said matter-of-factly. "Chopping them up into little pieces won't stop him for long."

  Hilda nodded. "I'll help," Michael continued. He tried to sit up but Hilda pushed him back down gently.

  "No, we got this one," she told him. "You need
to get your strength back."

  He leaned back into the pillows. Every day he had more energy. But not enough to fight.

  "We'll talk later," she said. "I need to prepare for the Draugr."

  She left the room and went down to the common room. She pulled Rooso aside. "Do you still have your contacts for weapons?" He just nodded.

  "I need some way to throw flames." He winced as Hilda continued, "We are dealing with a Draugr."

  She handed him a coin. He took it and left. The extra expenditures were straining her budget, but she knew that she would have to counteract the mage before he decided that he needed to kill them. It would be better that he didn't know that she and her friends knew about the Draugr. Especially when they were planning to kill it.

  She had thought that the mage was smart at least in his craft. It boggled her mind that he would use a Draugr for any reason. They were angry and they were dangerous. Even to make a Draugr was dangerous. Every day that the Draugr walked, the mage was in danger. If there weren't other people in danger, Draugrs were known to attack anyone in their way to get to their tormentors, she would have left the situation to go to its inevitable close, which was the death of the mage, but she suspected there were other innocents involved.

  As the sun poured red and gold into the sky after the gloom of the last few days, Hilda, Rooso, and his retired band of mercenaries huddled in doorways and on roofs, watching the exits of the small castle. Rooso had been able to get a small tube that shot fire out one end. Only a fire wizard with an element could fire the thing so it was in Hilda's hands. The rest of the band had swords, knives, and other sharp elements.

  The fire tube had not been tried on a Draugr, but it had been successful with the garden variety zombies that plagued some of the outer cemeteries. It would have to do. Hilda stayed near the Inn as she waited for the message that Rooso's men had seen the Draugr. Sassy sat on her shoulder, slightly singeing the sleeve. Sassy had the eager look that a dog gets when he is ready for the hunt.