by Janet Durbin
"Much obliged. Tell Ruben to watch out for himself. The guy looks like a handful."
Crusty went back down the long hall and cut through the storage room to the alleyway. He returned to the stables the same way he had come. A door stood across the hall from the storage place. On it was the number 130.
* * * *
Drayco came awake from what felt like an eternity of sleep. He was lost for a moment when he did not recognize his surroundings. All of a sudden, he recalled where he was.
Ruben ... the Boss ... where are they now?
The last thing he remembered he was tied to the wall and Ruben was slicing into his chest with a knife. After that, the pain took over and everything disappeared. He tried to move his arms, but found they were tied behind him. His feet were also tied.
He lifted his head slowly and looked around the room. Ruben sat in a chair with his feet propped up on a small table, his chin resting on his chest. Drayco could hear faint snoring. Drizzle lay restrained on the bed across the room, watching, his eyes glowing in the faint candlelight. Drayco met those eyes for a brief moment, then continued to look around the room. Upon seeing nothing else, he focused on his body.
He should have felt weaker than he did, and he wondered what had happened to cause its reduction. He vaguely remembered images of a neck in front of his face and drinking from it, but it was all a blur. The picture of Randolf tied up near the bed flashed into his mind.
Randolf, you poor pathetic fool, you should have known better than to trust someone like Ruben. Now you're probably dead. That's the only explanation I can think of as to why I feel better than I should.
He tried to shift his position without making too much noise, but was unsuccessful. Ruben raised his head and looked at the man lying on the floor.
"Awake are we? Glad to see it."
The big man sat up just as a light rapping on the door started, drawing his attention away from the prisoner. Ruben slid his sword out of its scabbard and advanced toward the door. He was reaching for the handle when a voice sounded through the wood.
"Master Ruben, sorry to wake you, but I must. I have some important news to deliver."
The voice belonged to Louis. Ruben relaxed. He opened the door for the man.
Louis saw the blade. He replied, “I don't think that will be necessary, do you?"
"I wasn't sure who was here ... or if you were alone.” Ruben returned the sword to its sheath. “What do you have to tell me?"
"I think the privacy of your room would be better, don't you, Master Ruben?"
Ruben moved out of the way, allowing the smaller man to enter. After the door was closed, Louis faced the big man.
"I've just received word that there are two people in town inquiring about you and your associate here.” He pointed to Drayco, who remained still, his undivided attention focused on the thin clerk from the front desk.
"I was told it was a man and a woman. They are well armed and apparently able to handle themselves."
"Fabulous!” Ruben replied. Pleasure filled his tone. “The bait has been taken. It's now time to spring the trap. Get everything we discussed earlier together. I'll make sure everything here is ready."
"Understood, Master Ruben. It shall be done.” Louis walked out of the room, closing the door behind him.
Ruben started to chuckle. He glanced over his shoulder toward Drayco. “Now the fun begins."
The big man walked over to the prisoner and grabbed an arm. He dragged him across the floor to the bed where he threw him down next to Drizzle. Drayco winced in pain. Before he could say anything, a wad of cloth was shoved inside his mouth and secured with some rope.
Ruben straightened. “Can't have you shouting out a warning to your friends, now can we? That would spoil all the fun."
The rope bit into the corners of his mouth. Drayco tried repositioning it, but the tightness of the rope would not allow it.
"Sorry to go, but I have a trap to set in motion. We'll be back together real soon ... and this time we'll have company.” He winked at Drayco and gave Drizzle a pat on the head. He grinned when the dark man's face turned red with anger.
Ruben finally realized Randolf's body was gone when he moved to the door, and wondered where and when it had disappeared, but not for long. He had things to do. He paused. “I always love company, especially the right kind.” He winked again and shut the door behind him.
Drayco immediately went into action. He wiggled on the bed so that his back was close to Drizzle and indicated with hand signals for the cat to let his claws out. The cat understood what he needed to do. Five razor sharp instruments of death emerged from one of the tawny front extremities shaped like hands. Drayco carefully positioned his arms next to the claws and started to rub the bonds back and forth.
A few strands severed, but not enough to break free. Drayco did not get a chance to finish before he heard voices coming down the hall, toward this room. He recognized one of them. It was one he would never forget. It belonged to his sister.
* * * *
The weary pair made their way through town, toward the direction the old man had indicated. They reached the intersection without incidence and turned right. Even though it was early, the sun barely above the treetops, patrons were about their business. A group of young men hung out just past the intersection, watching the newcomers with interest. They looked like troublemakers from the moment Shyanne laid eyes on them.
Each one was wore black pants and a shirt with the sleeves missing. A sword hung at their sides. All three were young, in their late teens or early twenties, but one was larger than the rest. He appeared to be the leader of the group.
Shyanne held Joseph's hand while they walked; she gave it a gentle squeeze when she spotted the trio. When he glanced at her, she tilted her head in their direction.
The men straightened and started toward them. One shouted, “Look at the lovers! Got any money, lovers?” Another added, “Wow, look at the babe. Can I have some of her too?” The third quipped, “Why share? Let's just enjoy her for ourselves.” All three pulled out their swords as they advanced.
Joseph and Shyanne stopped. They watched the men advance, their faces grim. The overzealous hotheads surrounded the couple and began to move in a circular motion, their swords held loosely before them. A few people stopped to watch, but none interfered. Smirks were on more than a few of the faces, indicating they were used to seeing fights in this part of town and hoped today was going to start with a good one. They wanted something interesting to gossip about.
Shyanne turned her back toward Joseph. Her posture was calm and relaxed, as was his. Joseph glanced over his shoulder at her and smiled. They returned their attention to the antics of the three circling them.
"What do you think, Shyanne?"
"About these three?"
"Yes ... these poor, little boys who think they know how to play with knives. I don't know if they want to mess with us."
"Maybe they'll wise up and we won't have to find out."
"You think you can take us on?” shouted one whose dark facial hair grew in blotches. “You and your fanciness and all?"
"Then let's find out!” shouted another, his blond hair tied back in a ponytail.
The biggest of the three bolted toward Shyanne. A sneer of triumph covered his face as the sword swung in a wide arch, intent more on scaring her than hurting her. She raised the pack she carried and threw it into the face of the charging man, effectively wiping the sneer off his face and knocking him off balance. His arms pinwheeled wildly, but he somehow managed to recover his balance before falling. His buddies froze in their tracks. These men were clearly used to getting their way; they were not used to having opposition.
"You bitch!” he screamed while rubbing his nose. “How dare you do that to me! I own this part of town! You pass through only after paying me with money, or favors, your choice!"
Shyanne remained where she was, smiling. This infuriated the young man further.
&nb
sp; "I'll teach you what it means to come into my part of town and mock me in front of my gang! I'm gonna gut you all the way up to your chin!"
This time he charged full force at Shyanne and swung his sword in an upward motion. Joseph spun around to help her, but she did not need it. She stepped to one side, her sword out of its sheath in one fluid motion. The move was so sudden and so unexpected that the young man did not have time to react. He barreled past her. The exposed blade sliced into his side. She had purposefully held the weapon low to avoid hitting any vital organs.
His forward momentum carried him past her. He landed on the ground, a look of shock planted on his face. Shyanne gripped her blade with both hands. She held it ready in case the wounded man decided he hadn't had enough, or one of his fellow hagglers tried something.
Joseph moved to her side, casually holding his pack over his shoulder. “I told you to reconsider messing with us. Now look at what happened."
"What's this ‘us’ thing you're talking about. What ‘us'? I did all the work. All you did was stand there,” Shyanne retorted. She put her sword away and faced him, her hands resting in her hips in indignation.
The other two watched the strangers banter back and forth, mouths hanging open. Their leader lay on the ground, hugging his side, groaning with pain. A small puddle of blood spread beneath him, but it wasn't enough to cause great concern. They moved quickly to his side and helped him to his feet. The wounded man groaned even louder. He leaned heavily on their shoulders as they walked away from the still arguing couple. Every few steps one glanced back to make sure their exit went unnoticed.
"I was going to help you, but you ended all the fun before I could even draw my sword,” Joseph snapped.
"That's because you were too..."
Shyanne stopped and looked around. The three hooligans were gone. The rest of the crowd watched them with keen interest. Their faces told her that the first fight had been a complete washout, but that maybe this one would pan out better.
She broke into gut-splitting laughter. Joseph looked around, then joined her. After wiping the tears from their eyes and putting away their swords, they started down the road toward the inn, an arm around each other as they walked.
"Did you see their faces? They were priceless,” Shyanne managed to get out between giggles.
"Honey, that's why I love you, you always see the humor in everything. It keeps life fresh. I know we haven't known each other long, but it feels like many years of wonderful bliss."
"You sweet talking devil, you.” She reached up and kissed him before turning her attention back to the task at hand. “I wonder where that inn is. I'm starved and tired and I want to catch up on some sleep before Drayco gets here."
As if appearing magically just by discussing it, the inn stood in front of them. The old man had been correct in his description. It was the only business on the street that looked like someone cared. Joseph and Shyanne made their way up the step and into the main lobby. The check in counter across the room was vacant. A door to the left had wonderful smells wafting from it. They moved closer to check out what lay beyond.
"This must be the restaurant Crusty talked about. I hope the food is as good as it smells,” Joseph said with a note of hopefulness in his voice.
"Just like a man, always thinking with his stomach."
They looked in the doorway. Tables were throughout the room, and booths lined the outer edges. The pair made their way to one of them. After they plopped onto the benches, weary from the long travel and morning events, an older woman with gray speckled hair walked up to the table. She informed them of what was available from the kitchen. The days of hand held menus, with a large selection to choose from, were long gone, thanks to the virus.
When they placed their orders and the woman was gone, Joseph leaned against the back wall. He stretched his legs out under the table and extended his arms to either side, resting them on the ledge behind him. A huge yawn followed the stretch.
"Boy, am I beat. I hope the food gets here soon. I don't know how much longer I can stay awake."
"I know what you mean. I'm so tired I'm almost tempted to get the room now instead of eating.” Shyanne leaned back, assuming the same relaxed position as Joseph.
"No way, woman. My stomach would never forgive me if I did that to it. It's been begging for some real food for awhile now.” He paused as an aggrieved look flashed across his face. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table, and gazed at the back wall, but didn't really seem to see it.
Shyanne leaned forward and cupped his hands with hers. “I wish I could have met her. She must have been some kind of woman, your mom."
"You're a lot like her ... stubborn, pigheaded, thoughtful, kind. I guess that's why I'm drawn to you like I am. Yet, you're also your own unique person, and I love that part, as well.” He raised his eyes to hers. “Shyanne, my love, when this is over, I want to be with you forever, to have you as my wife.” He bent over and planted a long and enduring kiss on her lips, which she returned passionately. They broke apart, blushing, when the older woman returned with their food and beverages.
Silence, except for the occasional groan of pleasure due to the wonderful flavors of the food, filled the booth during the meal. Other people came in for a morning meal. None paid any attention to the two sitting off to the side.
When the food was devoured and the hot cider all but gone, they both leaned back. Joseph rubbed his stomach. “Boy, that was a great meal. I am definitely ready for that bed now.” His eyes were heavy with sleep. He yawned again.
"I can't remember the last time I had something so fabulous,” Shyanne murmured. A yawn followed her statement, as well.
The old woman returned to pick up the dirty dishes and the payment. Joseph handed her an extra gold coin as a tip for her services.
"Thank you, fine sir. Come again, come again,” she said as the coin disappeared into a pocket. She smiled and left to attend to the other patrons in the room.
Joseph stood. He helped Shyanne to her feet, then moved to the door that lead into the main lobby. The packs they carried felt like stones filled them instead of clothing and trail items. Both had the same thought; the sooner we put these heavy things down the better. The fatigue, which engulfed their bodies and minds, caused them to move slowly.
As they entered the lobby, a thin, proper-looking man stood behind the counter. His clothes were fancy, reminding Shyanne of an old-time bank teller from the western movies she had seen as a child. His just beyond shoulder length brown hair was slicked back into a neat ponytail.
The man glanced up from his stack of papers when they approached. “Can I be of service?"
"We need a room,” Joseph replied. “We may need it for more than a day. Will that be a problem?"
"No, sir, no problem at all. Have you traveled far?"
"Not far, only from the next town over."
The two had agreed earlier to give false information if questioned. They wanted to play it safe.
"That would be Radnor. It's a nice place to visit, but I wouldn't care to live there. Rough people, you know. My name is Louis. I'll be the one showing you to your room, or will it be rooms?"
"Just one room. We're married.” Joseph hugged Shyanne close during the conversation. She smiled at Louis and nodded her head in agreement.
Louis smiled back. He opened the registry book located next to the stack of papers. Shyanne leaned over and looked with him. She wanted to see if the names of her brother or Ruben were listed. They weren't. To her, that could be either a good thing, or a bad thing. She hoped it was the foremost. If they had chosen the wrong path and the mercenaries went another way, who knows what shape Drayco would be in, or how long it would take to find him.
"Excuse me, but has a man named Ruben been here recently?” Shyanne asked.
Louis looked up from the book. “I haven't seen Ruben in a few weeks. Why do you ask?"
"We're friends of his. We haven't seen him in awhile either and knew
he stayed here sometimes. Just wanted to give our greetings."
"Ah, well, when I see him again, who should I say was asking?"
"Kitchens. Mr. and Mrs. Kitchens,” Joseph answered.
"Very good. When Mr. Ruben returns, I will pass the message along."
Louis looked at the ledger again as if he was looking for a room. In actuality, it had already been chosen. He ran his finger down the page and stopped at a number. “Ah, here's a good one. Room 130. That room is available and quiet. I assume you'll want to rest without being disturbed?” He tilted his head up and lifted an eyebrow in inquiry.
"Definitely,” Joseph sighed.
Shyanne looked at him wearily. “Yes, please, we definitely need to rest."
"I'll just get the key then.” Louis reached under the counter. He pushed a button located near the side wall before grabbing the room key. With a wave of his hand, he indicated for the tired couple to accompany him. They shifted the weight of their packs and followed.
They passed other rooms as they made their way down the seemingly endless hallway. No sounds came from any of them.
"What about these other rooms? Is anyone else staying in them?” Joseph asked.
"I'm afraid not, sir. They are shut down for renovation. We're putting down new floor coverings to keep the cold out during wintertime. Only a couple of rooms near the entrance are in use. You came at an awkward but convenient time. We're not that busy yet."
"At least you have something available for us. We appreciate that,” Shyanne said.
When they reached their destination, room 130, it seemed odd to Joseph that there was not a window or another patron room nearby. The only rooms located around this one appeared to be a storage room and a cleaning room. He had a bad feeling, but was too tired to think about it.
"Here we are.” Louis halted in front of the door. He started to reach toward the lock with the key and stopped. He turned toward the waiting couple. “I hope these accommodations will be adequate. This is the best room in the inn for what you are wanting."
