Secrets & Swords

by R A Lewis

  “Lovely to meet you Rawlin. Now, what can I do for you boys?” Hob said, turning back to Henndo.

  “Well Hob, we’d like a place to stay. But neither myself nor Rawlin have any money, so I was hoping you’d let me play for my supper. Draw in a bit of a crowd for you. And Rawlin here is good with horses he tells me, and I thought he might be your new stable boy if you’ll have him. We’ll even share a room if you haven’t got enough rooms available.” Roguelyn winced at this suggestion. Sharing the same space as him on the road was different, but if they lived long term in the same room, she worried he’d discover her secret. But there wasn’t much for it. She’d lived that way in the military, she supposed she could again, although washing was going to be a challenge.

  “Well, he looks strong enough, although he needs some more meat on his bones. But I think I can stretch it,” Hob said, scratching the stubble on his chin. Henndo grinned at Roguelyn, who grinned back.

  “It’s settled then! Where would you like us to unpack?” Hob led them behind the bar and up the stairs. He opened the first door on the landing. Inside was a cramped room with two small beds and what looked like old but genuine goose down mattresses. Roguelyn smiled at the sight. Sleep tonight was going to be like sleeping on a cloud.

  “It’s not much, but it’s enough,” Hob said, hands on his hips, surveying the room. “There’s supper when you’re ready. I can also have the missus draw you both a bath if you want. Come into the kitchen when you’re done unpacking,” with that he left, and Henndo smiled at Roguelyn and gestured.

  “Which bed do you want? Right, or left?” Roguelyn pointed right.

  “That one’s fine with me,” she said. There was a small window situated between the beds that looked out onto rooftops and a stable yard. There were two nightstands, and two sets of drawers in the room, as well as one small writing desk. Henndo waltzed in, dropping his bags unceremoniously on the left-hand bed.

  “Shall we bathe or eat first?” he asked, stretching.

  “Bath for me I think,” Roguelyn said, fear rising in her chest. It was a risk, but she was willing to take it.

  “Alright then! Let’s get you clean!” Henndo’s constant joy was hard to ignore and Roguelyn found herself grinning, her fear vanishing as they made their way downstairs.

  Hob was in the kitchen, a short, stocky woman next to him, with a halo of frizzy grey hair sticking out from her head. She was kneading bread on a large oak table while Hob was preparing some buckets.

  “The washroom is through there.” He jerked his head towards a doorway covered by a curtain along the back wall. “You can go together, or one at a time, but by the look of you both, one at a time might be best.” He eyed Roguelyn and Henndo up and down. Henndo nodded.

  “I think for the sake of your tub and the water, one at a time is best. We’ll both sluff off week’s worth of traveling dust.” Roguelyn sighed in relief, grateful that she might get a private bath.

  “You can start hauling water then,” Hob said, tossing a metal bucket at Henndo, followed by another at Roguelyn. “You haul it, and I’ll heat it,” he said, heading out a second back door and motioning them to follow. He pointed at a well sitting in a small stable yard out the back door. “I’ll grab some wood and we can hang two buckets at a time over the fire. It won’t be hot, but it’ll be warm.”

  He stomped off towards a large wood pile along the side of the inn, and Roguelyn followed Henndo to the well. They hauled close to 15 buckets for Henndo’s bath, and after he was clean, another 15 buckets for Roguelyn’s. Once the bath was filled with lightly steaming clean water, Roguelyn closed the curtain and stripped down quickly. She climbed in, sighing deeply at her first hot bath since she could remember. She thought wistfully back to the days in her own castle with hot baths on demand, and always fresh clean clothes to follow. She hadn’t seen luxury like that since she’d left home. A small part of her missed it. But the larger part of her knew she’d done the right thing in leaving. Even if she didn’t know if the rest had been the right thing.

  Laughter and noise floated through the flimsy curtain that covered the door as the inn filled up with guests for the evening. Roguelyn had laid out a fresh set of clothing on a bench by the wall and was scrubbing herself vigorously when she heard a step outside the curtain.

  “Hey Rawlin, you almost done in there?” Henndo’s voice rang out. Roguelyn yelped and dropped her soap into the tub. She was too busy searching for it to respond, and when she didn’t, Henndo pushed aside the curtain and walked in. “What’s all the splashing? Are you drowning in here?” he said stepping into the room. Roguelyn froze, the lost soap clutched in her hand, one hand halfway to covering her chest. Henndo stopped dead, staring. Then he quickly averted his eyes. “Well, Rawlin, you didn’t tell me you were a girl!” he said jokingly, followed by a nervous laugh.

  “Henndo, I’m sorry!” Roguelyn stammered out. She was covering herself as best she could, ducking low in the water, hugging her knees to her chest. “You weren’t supposed to know. No one was,” she said lamely, staring into the dirty water, quickly going cold.

  “Well, I can’t say I’m all that surprised. I thought you were too pretty for a boy, with those full lips and everything,” he said, trying to coax a smile out of her. He continued to stare at the ceiling, averting his eyes. “Look, Rawlin, or whatever your name is, I’m going to step outside, and when you’re done, you can tell me your story. You know how much I like stories.” And with that, he turned around and ducked back through the curtain. Roguelyn breathed out a sigh of relief at being left alone.

  She anxiously walked out into the kitchen once she was dried and dressed, brushing her wet brown hair back from her face. Henndo sat in the deserted kitchen on a bench at the table, quietly reading a book.

  “What are you reading?” she said. Henndo stuck his finger in the book to mark his space and looked up at her.

  “Just a book of love poems,” he said, and patted the bench next to him for her to sit. “Now,” He said as Roguelyn sat next to him. “What’s your story?” he asked, genuine concern and curiosity in his eyes.

  Roguelyn took a deep breath, fiddling with a loose string on the edge of her trousers.

  “It’s a long story,” she said, trepidation growing in her chest. Should she tell him all of it, or only parts of the truth? How much could she trust this man?

  “I’ve got the time,” he said, and the smile on his face was encouraging and genuine. “You had to have a good reason to do this, and I’d like to know how I can help.” He relaxed back, allowing her the space to talk.

  “Well, it’s hard to explain. I am not from Gadel,” she paused, looking up at him. His face only showed mild interest. “I’m from Rayaven.” His face never changed, he nodded for her to go on. “I joined the military to try and make a difference, for adventure.” Not entirely true, but he didn’t need to know all the details of her life. “And I did so as a boy. But something happened, something awful, and I fled.” She swallowed hard before continuing. “I came over the mountains into Gadel, and eventually found you at the inn. It just seemed, safer, and easier, to remain a boy. No one will force me to marry, or to do needle point. I can go around unmolested, and make my own way in the world as a boy.” She was on a roll now, and he seemed to be buying her explanation. “I wanted a new start, so when you suggested I travel with you, and you offered to help me find a place to stay, I thought, why not?” she ended lamely. Silence stretched between them for a few moments as Henndo considered her story.

  “What about your family?”

  “They don’t know where I am. I don’t want them to know.”

  Henndo didn’t question her further.

  “So, what’s your real name then?” he asked.

  “Roguelyn.” She figured it wouldn’t do any harm for him to know her first name. “But please, don’t call me that. Keep calling me Rawlin if you can. It’s just easier if I stay in disguise. At least for now.” Henndo eyed her for a moment but finally n
odded.

  “Nice to finally meet you, Roguelyn,” he said, offering his hand. Roguelyn shook it sheepishly, but Henndo’s sincerity and obvious liking for her made her smile back gratefully.

  Chapter 8

  That night, Henndo insisted on hanging a blanket between their two beds, to give her privacy if she wanted it. He had inquired about separate rooms but Hob was insistent about leaving them open to guests. Roguelyn was grateful that she had a friend on her side, someone who at least knew her real name and gender, who could look out for her. She missed having Will by her side, but Henndo was a good second best. And besides, Henndo hadn’t betrayed her as Will had, something she was still struggling with. If Will was with her right then she would have forgiven him, but it didn’t mean she’d trust him with all her secrets anymore. He’d been so starstruck by Cole he hadn’t used his better judgement. Roguelyn knew in her heart that Will never meant to betray her but the memory of killing Cole still haunted her every night when she closed her eyes.

  The next few days found Roguelyn and Henndo earning their keep. Henndo played his lyre and sang for a crowd that grew every night, and Roguelyn mucked out stalls during the day, hauled firewood for the cook stove, and helped serve at dinner when Hob asked her to. She was enjoying herself and was settling in nicely, almost forgetting her true purpose for being there.

  They spent their evenings after dinner drinking. Henndo was teaching her how to play a few card games, advising her on how to cheat at certain games by card counting or hiding cards up her sleeve. Henndo was a jack of all trades, and he had many useful skills he tried to pass on to her.

  One night about a week after they arrived, the tavern was full, each seat taken as Henndo tuned up his lyre for the night. Roguelyn was helping to serve the evening meal, handing out plates of hot food to guests and filling tankards of ale. The energy was high, and the noise filled the room to a crescendo. Henndo was just starting his bit, greeting the crowd, telling a bawdy story, and taking requests for songs, when the front door to the inn abruptly opened. It slammed against the wall with a bang, startling everyone in the room. Roguelyn whipped around, facing whatever was going to come through that door, panic fluttering in her chest. What if it was the men who had come after her at Anna’s house? What if it was Will? What if it was Gadel’s guard, coming to take her away? Although she’d wonder how they would have known who she was, or why she was here, she steeled herself for anything.

  But Roguelyn’s fears were put to rest as a young man stepped in, fierce blue eyes shining through a handsome, rugged face, a fall of dark hair around his head. He wore a traveling cloak in a deep forest green, and as he stepped inside, he whipped it from his shoulders, scattering rain drops across the floor. The music had stopped, everyone looking to the newcomer who had made such an entrance.

  “Oh, don’t stop on account of me! Is that you Henndo? Please, play on!” his jovial voice boomed out across the space, instantly setting everyone at ease. Roguelyn didn’t relax just yet, her shoulder muscles tight as she turned to continue filling a tankard with ale. Henndo nodded and waved to the newcomer, and continued to play as Hob came out of the back room wiping his hands clean.

  “Liam Ward, how are you, my boy?” Hob bellowed, coming from behind the counter to shake the man’s hand.

  “Oh, you know, as good as can be expected,” Liam said, grinning at the older man. He was very handsome, and Roguelyn felt butterflies begin to flutter in her stomach as she poured the ale, watching Liam out of the corner of her eye.

  “How’s your dear mother, is she doing any better?” Hob asked, as Roguelyn handed two tankards of ale to two men sitting at the bar.

  “She’s doing better, thank the gods. Now, is my old room available? I’d like to get settled in before grabbing a bite,” Liam threw his wet cloak over an arm. Hob nodded and motioned.

  “Your room is available, just the way you left it. Rawlin,” Hob said over his shoulder, “Fetch Liam’s horse and get him bedded down for the night.”

  “Yes, sir,” Roguelyn said, wiping her hands on a towel and heading towards the kitchen. Liam followed her.

  “I need to grab my saddle bags. I wasn’t sure if I had a room available so I left them attached.” Roguelyn nodded and went out through the kitchen. Liam followed her into the yard where a beautiful dun horse stood by the well. Roguelyn approached the horse’s head and offered him her palm to sniff, while Liam unhooked his bulging saddle bags.

  “My mother sent me back with quite the array of baked goods,” he said, gesturing at the fullness of his bags. “Would you like a scone?” he said, digging in a bag. Before Roguelyn could refuse, he pulled out a cloth parcel inside which were blueberry scones, only a few days old. He offered her one, a smile warming his face. Roguelyn accepted gratefully and noticed he had strong hands. Liam laced up his bag, and began to turn to go.

  “We weren’t properly introduced,” he said, turning back. “I’m Liam Ward, I practically live at this inn when I’m not taking care of my mother.” He grinned at her, offering his hand to shake. “And you’re new here. I assume Henndo brought you in?” Roguelyn looked at his hands, imagining them running over her body, a slight blush traveling up her neck. She ducked her head, hoping he wouldn’t notice.

  “Yes, Henndo did. I’m Rawlin,” she answered, taking his hand, noticing the calluses along his palms that said he was a swordsman. She wondered if he’d notice her own calluses. But he didn’t seem to. He just smiled and nodded and turned to head inside.

  “Nice to meet you, Rawlin. I hope to get to know you in the weeks to come.” He left her there holding the reins to his horse, a bit awestruck by his beauty and kindness.

  When Roguelyn got back inside after settling his horse, the house was in full swing, Henndo strumming on his lyre and singing at the top of his lungs, people dancing and keeping the beat of the song by banging on the tables. She crossed to the bar where Hob set her to cleaning glasses and handing out ales once again. Liam was nowhere to be seen, and Roguelyn tried to convince herself that she wasn’t looking for him. A few minutes later someone called her name, and she turned around to face the bar and there he was.

  “Can I get an ale please?” he asked, settling into an empty stool recently vacated. He propped his elbows on the counter and looked around himself with a smile. “Tonight is really hopping!” he commented, looking back at Roguelyn. She poured him a tankard of ale, and handed it to him, nodding.

  He continued to try to make small talk with her, and Roguelyn found herself doing more feminine things, like tucking her short hair behind her ears, looking up at him through her lashes and giggling. She had to force herself to stop and act like the boy she was pretending to be. Henndo may be safe, but she had no clue who Liam was. She couldn’t let herself be distracted from her purpose by a handsome man, she needed to focus on her cover and making a plan.

  “Where are you from Rawlin?” Liam asked between sips of ale and bites of the food that Hob had brought out for him. His blue eyes were so sharp they nearly pierced her to the core.

  “Oh, I’m from,” she paused, almost forgetting her back story. “Hoatam,” she said finally, trying to cover her slip by pouring him a second ale.

  “Hoatam? That’s awfully close to the fighting. We don’t see many young men not enlisted anymore. How did you avoid the draft?” This was a question she was not prepared for and she floundered for an answer.

  “Oh, you know, I was too young when they started recruiting, and now Hoatam has been at peace with Wresley for so long, we just never thought to send many more young men into war.” She cringed at such a pathetic answer but hoped he’d buy it. Liam nodded, a slight frown on his face. Roguelyn asked him a question back to distract him.

  “Where are you from? It seems you frequent this inn, what do you do for a living?” she asked, looking down at the tankard she was wiping down.

  “Well, I’m originally from up by Tora in the river lands, and after I served in the army for a while, I decided to t
ry to make my fortune as a merchant,” he said, focusing back on his meat and potatoes.

  “What do you sell?” Roguelyn’s interest was piqued.

  “Mainly wool. My mother runs a sheep farm up in Tora. Great grazing land up there, very flat and grassy.” He seemed eager to talk about his business. “I travel back and forth every few months to gather more stock and have it shipped to a warehouse down the street. I prefer staying here, nice, homey folks, and Hob always does right by me.” Liam finished his plate and pushed it away, settling back onto his stool and taking a long draught of ale.

  As they sat talking the door opened again, and a small group of women stepped into the space. They were dressed just like the women who belonged to that cult Henndo had told her about. Every part of them was covered except their faces. In their hands they held leaflets with writing on them. Roguelyn watched out of the corner of her eye as they began to make their way around the crowded tavern, speaking to people and handing out the leaflets. Most people seemed annoyed at their presence, but a few took the leaflets, mild interest on their faces.

  “Interesting,” Roguelyn said absently. “Who do you sell to?”

  “Oh, you know, other merchants, wool dyers, clothing makers, but mostly I sell directly to the king,” Liam said this with a touch of pride. “Well,” he said, gesturing, “Not the king directly of course, but I sell to his clothier and his wool dyer, and sometimes, when my mother makes a particularly nice quilt or blanket, they will buy it from me.” Roguelyn’s ears perked up at this. This man had direct access into the castle. Maybe, this was finally the thing she needed, the right person to help her gain access to the king and hopefully her father.

  “Oh! That must be exciting!” She wanted to seem interested and impressed, but not too eager. She needed to win this man over, become his friend and confidant, if he was to help her get to her father.