Kelder turned to see her walking up a narrow path that descended from the bridge's entrance to the river. Even in the dim glow of the torches he could see that she was soaked, her long hair hanging in ropes down her back, her white tunic drenched and clinging heavily to her body.
That was very interesting to look at, from Kelder's point of view, as the garment was almost transparent when wet, but he saw that it was also obviously cold and uncomfortable, and he helped her up the stone step that linked the path to the highway.
“What happened?” he asked. “I thought your clothes changed with you.”
“They do,” she said. “I feel dumb.”
“Why?” Asha asked.
Irith snorted in annoyance, and Kelder felt her shivering.
“We can talk about it later,” he said. “Let's get to the inn. Irith can dry off there, and we can all warm up.”
Nobody argued, and the four of them trudged up the hill, drops of water pattering from Irith's clothes and hair. Kelder's sleeve was saturated as well, where he had put his arm around her.
The hill was longer than it had initially appeared—Kelder had assumed that it was covered with sprouting grain, as the other bank of the river was, though he could not see any in the dark; he had figured that into his estimates. In fact, the ridge was covered with meadows, which meant it was higher than Kelder had estimated. Furthermore, the inn was not at the top but at the foot of the other side.
They did reach it eventually, and found their way around to the entrance, which was on the opposite side. Ezdral was more alert on the way than he had been in hours, obviously seriously concerned about Irith. It was clearly all he could do to keep from wrapping protective arms about her.
“Don't you have a blanket, Kelder?” he asked, about halfway up the first slope.
Kelder cursed himself for his own stupidity and, without stopping, dug a blanket from his pack and wrapped it around the Flyer's shoulders.
When they reached the door it was closed; a torch blazed in a bracket above it, but there was no signboard or other indication that the place was open for business. Light spilled out through cracks in the shutters, so it was obviously not deserted, but Kelder hesitated.
“Are you sure it's an inn?” he asked.
“I'm sure,” Irith said. Without bothering to knock, she opened the door and stepped in.
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* * *
Chapter Thirty-Two
Sound and light and warmth washed over Kelder as he followed Irith into the inn. He found himself in a large, comfortable room, standing on well-worn planking and facing several tables of assorted shapes and sizes. Half a dozen patrons were clustered about one of the larger tables, shouting encouragement to two burly men who sat facing each other, hands locked in an arm-wrestling match. The faces of the two competitors were red and strained with effort. Nobody seemed to be eating, but some of the spectators had mugs in their hands.
The walls were stone, but pierced with numerous doors and shuttered windows. At one end of the room a cheery blaze failed to come anywhere near filling a huge fireplace; a row of mugs stood on the mantle, and above them a scabbarded sword hung from wires set into the stonework.
Most of those present ignored the new arrivals, but a tall brown-haired man in an apron, apparently in his thirties or so, looked up and exclaimed, “Irith!”
“Valder!” Irith called back in Trader's Tongue, “How are you?”
“I'm fine,” the man said in the same language, hurrying over. “What about you?”
“I'm freezing cold and dripping wet,” Irith replied irritably, “but other than that I'm the same as ever.”
“Well, come on over by the fire,” Valder said, beckoning. “I'll get you something warm to drink. Thetta!”
A serving wench appeared through one of the doors and looked at the innkeeper questioningly. “Build up the fire a little, would you?” Valder told her. “And tell someone to bring some tea—the kettle's hot, isn't it?” Nor was he idle himself; as he spoke, he was shoving a table out of the way and setting a half-circle of chairs around the hearth.
Just then the arm-wrestling match ended, amid shouts and cheering.
“He got you good, Kelder!” someone called, and Kelder of Shulara growled to himself.
“Best two out of three?” another voice asked.
“That was two out of three!”
“Three out of five, then!”
“Done, for another copper.”
“You're on.” The huddle, which had shown signs of dispersing, coalesced anew. Thetta disappeared back into the kitchen, or whatever lay beyond that door; Valder turned, exasperated, then shrugged and gestured to the chairs.
Gratefully, the four travelers settled into the proffered seats, Irith in the center, Ezdral on her left and Kelder on her right, with Asha on Kelder's right. They sat silently for a moment, warming hands and feet, while Valder poked at the fire and shouted for more wood.
Thetta reappeared with an armful of logs, and close behind her came a boy bearing a metal tray that held a teapot and half a dozen cups.
“You didn't say how many, sir,” the boy said as he approached. “Is it enough?”
“It looks to be,” Valder said, taking the tray from him. Thetta dumped the logs on the hearth, and began placing them, one by one, onto the flames. Valder put the tray on the table he had moved aside, then poured tea, and distributed cups to the four new arrivals.
Ezdral didn't see his at first, and when it finally registered on his consciousness he glanced away from Irith long enough to look at it with mild distaste.
“You wouldn't happen to have anything stronger, would you, sir?” he asked. “A little oushka would warm me better than that, I'm sure.”
Valder glanced at the others, and Kelder caught his eye. The lad shook his head. “I'm terribly sorry,” the innkeeper said, “but these drunken louts over here have cleaned me out.” He waved at the party around the arm-wrestlers. “Not a drop of strong drink do I have until the next cartload comes.”
Irith smiled over her tea at him.
Ezdral reluctantly accepted a teacup, just as Thetta dropped the last log into place and headed back toward the kitchens. Valder took a cup himself, and pulled up a chair beside Asha, turned so that he was almost facing Irith and Ezdral.
“Now, Irith,” he said, “tell me how it is that you came in here soaking wet, when it hasn't rained for a sixnight.”
“Yes, Irith,” Asha said, “how'd you get all wet?”
“I turned into a fish,” she said.
“But when you turned back,” Kelder began, “isn't this an awful lot of water...”
“I did something silly,” Irith said, giggling slightly at herself; the hot tea and warm fire had done a great deal toward improving her mood. “I turned into a fish to swim the river, so I wouldn't have to pay the toll, right?”
Valder and Kelder nodded.
“Well, I got into the water just fine; dove in and changed in mid-air, so I was a fish when I landed. And I swam right across, following the bridge piers—it's dark down there in the river, and fish eyes aren't any better than human in the dark!”
“I hadn't thought of that,” Kelder said.
“That's all right,” Irith told him. “Neither had I, and I'd been a fish before, and you never were.”
“Go on,” Valder said. “It was dark...”
“Right, it was dark,” Irith agreed, “but I found my way across by following the bridge, and just by sense of direction—fish can feel the currents, and even when there aren't any currents you can sort of tell directions. It's hard to explain, it's just something fish do.”
Kelder could believe that. Everyone said that different animals had different senses.
“And I got to the other side,” Irith continued, “and suddenly remembered why I hadn't been a fish for a hundred years.”
She paused, relishing the suspense she had created.
“Oh, come on, Irith, tel
l us!” Asha begged.
“Fish can't get out of the water,” Irith said.
For a moment the others all sat, thunderstruck; then Valder burst out laughing uproariously. Kelder and Asha joined in; Ezdral simply stared at Irith.
The shapeshifter smiled at the amusement to her right, then turned left and noticed Ezdral. She stared back at him, annoyed.
“So you were sitting there in the river?” Valder asked, distracting her. “You had to turn back under water?”
“Not sitting," Irith said, regaining her good humor. “When I turn from fish to human I come out lying face-down. So there I was, lying in a foot of cold water, fully dressed.”
Kelder stopping laughing to listen.
“So I got up, half-drowned, and I waded ashore, and there these three were wondering what had happened to me,” she said. “And would you have said, ‘Oh, I forgot fish can't climb out of the water, so I spent ten minutes trying to figure out how to do it'?”
Asha giggled hysterically, and Kelder chuckled.
“Listen,” Valder said when the laughter had subsided, “you aren't much bigger than Thetta; why don't you see if she has some dry clothes you can wear, and we'll hang yours by the fire?”
“Oh, please,” Irith said, “that would be wonderful.”
“Fine,” Valder said. "Thetta!"
While they waited for the servant to appear, Valder asked, “Have you folks eaten?”
“No,” the younger three chorused.
“We'll take care of that as soon as Irith's back, then,” he said. Thetta emerged, and he called to her, “Tell someone to bring dinner for four, and while that's fixing, take Irith here upstairs and find her some dry clothes, all right?”
Thetta turned and leaned through the door, calling something to someone else, then came and waited.
Irith rose, put her tea on the table, and said, “Lead the way.”
A shout rose from the arm-wrestlers once again as the other Kelder was defeated for the third and final time, and this time the group began to disperse. A couple of the men eyed Irith with interest as she passed, but no one did more than look.
Once the two girls were gone, Ezdral announced, “I think I ... I think I'll go see if I can help with supper.” He rose, and shambled toward the kitchen.
Valder looked questioningly at Kelder, who sighed and shrugged. “He's looking for liquor,” Kelder said, “but I don't know how to stop him, short of locking him in somewhere.”
Valder sighed. “Let him go, then.”
That left three of them, Asha, Kelder, and Valder, sitting in front of the fire.
“Tell me,” Valder asked, “who are you people, and how do you come to be traveling with Irith?”
Kelder had been made so comfortable so quickly that he had forgotten that Valder had no idea who he was. “I'm Kelder of Shulara,” he said. “That's Asha of Amramion, and the man cadging oushka from your kitchen help is Ezdral the Sot. I met Irith on the Great Highway, and we just decided to travel together. We bumped into Asha in Angarossa, after she ran away from her father and her brother got killed, and we found Ezdral in Shan on the Desert.”
Valder considered that. “You seem pleasant enough, and I can see why Irith's traveling with you,” he said, “and I suppose she felt sorry for the girl.” He nodded politely at Asha, who smiled. “But why in the World would Irith put up with the old man, or he with her?”
“She enchanted him,” Kelder explained, “a long time ago, when he wasn't much older than I am now. She put a love spell on him, and then didn't know how to take it off.”
“And she didn't just fly off and forget about him?” Valder asked, startled.
Kelder was equally startled by accuracy of the innkeeper's guess. “Well, actually,” he said, “she did, but then we ran into him in Shan, and he followed us, and when I found out why I said we should try and find a cure for him, not just leave him there.”
“That speaks well of you, lad,” Valder said. “Most people would have just left him to rot.”
“Oh, I don't think so,” Kelder said, embarrassed.
"I would have,” Asha said. “Why didn't he find his own countercharm years ago?”
“I don't think he even knew it was a spell,” Kelder told her.
"I didn't know Irith had any love spells,” Valder remarked.
“Well, she doesn't use it much,” Kelder said. “It causes trouble. Like turning into a fish.”
Valder smiled. “I can see how it might,” he said. “So you're looking for a countercharm?”
Kelder nodded. “I thought we could probably find one in Ethshar,” he said.
“You may not need to go that far,” Valder said. “Do you know the spell's name?”
“Are you a wizard?” Asha asked, suspiciously.
“No,” Valder replied, “but my wife is.”
“It's called Fendel's Infatuous Love Spell,” Kelder said, wondering why a wizard would ever have married an innkeeper.
“Oh,” said Valder, grinning cheerfully, “that should be no problem, then—Iridith knows just about all Fendel's spells. Fendel was in here just about five years ago, and the two of them traded recipes.”
This was too much for Kelder; his jaw dropped, then snapped shut.
“You're teasing,” he accused.
“No, I'm not,” Valder said.
“Fendel the Great is dead, isn't he?”
“Well, he wasn't the last time I saw him,” Valder said, “but I don't know for certain whether he is now. It seems unlikely; he's been around for a very long time.”
Over his initial shock, Kelder remembered that Perina had said Fendel was rumored to still be alive. He moved on.
“Iridith,” he said. “Do you mean the famous wizard, Iridith of Ethshar?”
“I mean my wife, Iridith,” Valder said. “And she's a wizard, and a good one, but I didn't think she was particularly famous, and she's from Ethshar, but I didn't think she had a cognomen. She's just Iridith.”
“But there are other people named Iridith...”
“And I suppose you're the only Kelder from Shulara?”
Kelder decided that argument wasn't going anywhere. “You're trying to tell me,” he said, “that you're married to a powerful wizard, and that Fendel the Great is a friend of yours? Why in the World would a wizard marry an ordinary innkeeper, and why would Fendel associate with one?”
“I like to think,” Valder said, with both amusement and sarcasm in his tone, “that Iridith married me because she likes me. And Fendel isn't so much a friend as a business acquaintance; we met during the War.”
“What war?” Kelder asked, afraid he already knew.
“The Great War, of course,” Valder said. “How do you think Irith and I came to be friends? Those of us who live longer than normal—I wouldn't go so far as to call us immortals, you understand, but on the other hand I don't have any intention of dying any time soon—anyway, those of us who live more than a century or two tend to run into each other eventually.”
Asha was staring wide-eyed at the innkeeper.
“You're telling me,” Kelder said, eyes narrowed, “that you're hundreds of years old?”
“About two hundred and fifty,” Valder replied. “I'm under a curse, you see—Fendel made a mistake in a spell he put on my sword when I was in the army.” He pointed at the sword that hung above the fireplace. “I can't die until it kills me, and it can't kill me until it's killed a few other men first, and the war's over, which means I could get in trouble if I went around lopping off heads. Besides, I'm in no hurry to die.”
“Oh,” Kelder said, not sure he believed this.
“I don't usually tell people this,” Valder added, “but if you dragged Ezdral here all the way from Shan on the Desert, at least your intentions are good.”
“So you ... you met Fendel the Great during the war, because he was enchanting swords?” Kelder asked. “And he still comes to visit? And was it during the war that you met Iridith? And Irith?”
/> “No,” Valder said, “I met Fendel accidentally, when I stumbled across his hiding place, and he enchanted my sword to get rid of me. I've only seen him once since then, when he stopped at the inn on his way somewhere and talked shop with Iridith. As for my wife, I met Iridith after the war, when I was looking for a wizard who could fix the spell on the sword. And I met Irith about fifty years after that, when she turned up here at the inn, and since you don't meet very many girls with wings, I got interested and found out her story.” He paused, then asked, “You do know who she is, don't you, and how she got that way?”
“She's told me,” Kelder said warily.
Valder smiled wryly. “I don't know what she told you or didn't,” he said, “but it probably wasn't the entire truth. Did she say why she used Javan's Second Augmentation?”
“Yes,” Kelder said. “She was bored...”
“She was scared green,” Valder interrupted.
“She said there was a scare that the Northerners were going to invade...”
“There might have been,” Valder conceded, “but mostly she wanted to get out of serving her term.”
“Serving...?”
“Sure,” Valder said. “There was a war on, and every journeyman wizard was required to serve a five-year term in the military—sometimes more. And Irith wasn't about to do that.”
“Oh,” Kelder said.
“And did she tell you about the glamour?”
“The what?”
“The beauty spell,” Valder explained. “She was pretty to begin with, but come on, do you think a face like that could be natural? She used a glamour, a spell that enhances appearance, makes you more attractive—it was one of the set she put in there, but somehow she never happens to mention it—does she?”
“No,” Kelder admitted, “she didn't.”
“And she probably told you about the eternal youth,” Valder continued, “since she wouldn't have put a love spell on an old man, so she must have done it while he was young, and you'd have figured that out.”
“She told me about that,” Kelder said, a little defensively.
“Did she tell you all about it?” Valder insisted.
“What do you mean?”
Taking Flight (Ethshar) Page 24
