“Hacksaw, just give me one more chance,” she said, swinging her arm over his shoulder and leaning into him with her full body. “Little Shirl! Take this plate, bring two more tankards, and some pie.”
Little Shirl broke away from the order she was taking, and quick as a mouse, she took Hacksaw’s plate and tankard back into the kitchen.
“I bet you don’t have a place to stay,” Nina said, rubbing his back. “Do you? It’s too crowded this year, but I always keep at least one room back in case someone relevant swings in. I want you to have it, no charge, tonight. I feel bad, and I want to make things right with you.”
Her appealing smile made it easy to give in. With a nod, Hacksaw said, “I’ll take the room, but I’d insist on paying for it.”
“No, there is no need for that at all. Just let me make this right by you.” She embraced him. “I’ll feel better for it.”
“I know better than to tell a lady no, twice. I thank you. Much obliged. The truth is, I thought I might have to sneak a sleep in the stables with the horses.”
“Horses?”
“I have two. I’m a heavy packer when I travel ’cause I don’t really know what I might get into. Plus, I enjoy hunting. I used to trap and sell skins for a bit, but I wasn’t the best at it. I made my best living chopping wood and serving pumpkin cider.”
Little Shirl reappeared with two tankards with frothy tops that seem too heavy for her arms. The mousy young woman lifted them onto the bar. “Here is your mead. I’ll be back with the pie in a moment.” She looked up at Nina. “Do you have a preference, Nina?”
Nina looked at Hacksaw. “What delights your tummy?”
Hacksaw thumped the bar with his hand. “Bring whatever you think is best!” With a nod, Little Shirl vanished back in the kitchen. He grabbed his tankard. Nina did the same. He hooked his arm with hers. “Now, let’s wet our lips, shall we?”
Nina smiled. “Indeed.”
“To the Oxen Inn and the gorgeous young maiden that leads it!” Together, arms entwined, they drank deeply from the tankards. “Ah! That’s fine mead,” he said, wiping the froth from his beard.
Nina wiped her chin. “It’s my own special mixture. I’m glad you like it.”
Hands covered with mittens, Little Shirl set down a pie steaming from the top of its golden flaky crust. “Here is your pie. Let me know if you require anything else.”
“I will,” Hacksaw said.
“Little Shirl, see to it that our guest’s horses are well tended to as well,” Nina said. “You did use our stables, didn’t you?”
“Aye, that I did,” he said, waving the pie’s aroma into his nostrils. “What is that pie filled with? I smell spiced apples, cinnamon, and pumpkin?”
“Yes, it’s my family’s recipe,” Nina said, taking a fork and digging in. “It goes really well with the mead. I hope you like it.” She filled his mouth.
He chewed it up and swallowed. “Delicious.” Nina cut a full slice out and put it on the plate. “I like the nuts and the strawberry glaze. A fine mixture of ingredients that goes well with the coming winter. Can I have the recipe?”
She looked him in the eyes and patted his face. “Never.”
Hacksaw talked Nina up after that, asking her about her tavern and the city of Riegelwood. He claimed to be an amateur historian and spoke a little about his days of soldiering in Quintuklen too, without giving too much away about himself being a legionnaire. The knights of Quintuklen were not often well received, as they were considered to be very arrogant by some. He emptied two tankards, and felt warmer and cozier in Nina’s presence the longer he sat. Then, the room quieted a bit. A stir started in the tavern while the halflings were still singing. There were stairs that hugged the wall that led up into the rooms above. A group of elves in cloaked colors like a gray misty day came down the steps quietly. Eyes followed them. People spoke in quieter voices.
Hacksaw’s stool groaned underneath him as he turned their way. Something about the elves unsettled him. They were so out of place. He said to Nina, “Interesting customers. I don’t ever think I’ve seen elves in a place such as this.”
“Times are changing,” she said, squeezing his forearm. “I’ll be back.”
CHAPTER 62
Nath tingled from his fingertips to his toenails as he stared at the man who’d led the Black Hand. The radiant smile on Tobias’s handsome face cut through him like a razor. He fully expected to see City Lord Janders, but instead, he got a surprise that took his breath in the worst way. He wanted to jump on the stage and strike the man down. Tobias, the strapping swordsman and Black Hand leader, stood tall, dark, and handsome. He gave a subtle wave to the cheering crowd. He had the appearance of royalty in the finest suit of dark leather armor. Black gloves covered his hands. His sword, Splitter, was belted on his side.
Blinking, Nath said under his breath, “I can’t believe it.” Beside Tobias stood Princess Janna. Her long blond hair was braided down her back. She wore a long outdoor cotton gown that would keep the snow warm. Her head was downcast, and she had a smile as long as a river. “This can’t be happening.” Nath pecked the gusty woman, Sally, on the shoulder and said in his fake scratchy voice, “Pardon. But it’s been a while since I’ve been in the city. What happened to Lord Janders?”
Barely giving Nath a glance, Sally said, “He died two years ago, you old crone. Now, don’t bother me. I’m basking in Tobias’s glow.”
A commotion started in the crowd, near the front of the stage. A group of men pointed their fingers at Tobias and chanted, “Murderer! Murderer! Murderer!”
The soldiers surrounding the rim of the stage converged on the chanting men’s position and beat them down with clubs. They dragged the men off by their collars and out of sight. The praises for Tobias started again.
The lathered-up citizens shouted at the top of their lungs as Tobias lifted his arms to the sky.
Nath caught Janna looking away. His innards twisted inside him. There was definitely something wrong. Somehow, the Black Hand had fully overtaken Riegelwood, and he feared that his magic items had played a part in that. The stage had soldiers carrying spears spaced out along the perimeter. On the back end of the stage, more people had gathered as some sort of entourage. Nath rose higher on tiptoe, using the post for support. Are those elves?
There was no denying their distinct elven features. The pointed ears, graceful movements, and clothing as soft and splendid as clouds in the sky. There were only two, but they were accompanied by aristocratic men in similar winter refinery. Nath had the feeling they were merchants, businessmen, and guests for the upcoming wedding. But lurking nearby, standing close together, were the other members of the Black Hand.
Nath squeezed the head of the hammer. His jaws clenched.
I will have them. I will have them all!
Cullon the dwarf, black bearded and bald on the top, stood a mighty stump of a man. Belts of knives crisscrossed over his body. A scowl crossed his face as he scanned the crowd with narrow eyes. Beside him stood Worm, shifting his shoulders and giggling. The mop of sandy hair still covered the young man’s eyes. A goofy grin broke out on his face from time to time. Virgo stood beside Worm, a sultry platinum-haired goddess. Dressed in a tight winter outfit with fox fur covering her neck and wrists, she shivered. Her lips were tight, and she looked as if she’d rather be anywhere else but on that stage.
Nath didn’t see Nina. She must still be in the tavern. He looked back over his shoulder. He could clearly see the top level of the Oxen Inn. Patrons were outside, hanging over the railing on the porches, waving their arms, hats, and caps. Something is really off with this place. How could they have ruined it so quickly? He heard his father’s voice in his head, saying, “Weeds spread quickly if there is no good grass to choke them out.”
A shoving contest started in the crowd farther away from the stage. Nath caught sight of a few of the Men of Whispers he encountered on the road. He could tell it was them, just by how they moved, their voices,
and their clothing. They were hassling some locals. That’s when out of the crowd, three orcs joined in the shoving match.
Orcs are here? Why?
Nath noticed the black armor and chainmail uniforms they wore. They weren’t any orcs. They were guards wearing the insignia of Slaver Town.
Gads!
CHAPTER 63
Little Shirl took a seat on Nina’s stool while Hacksaw watched Nina converse with the elves at the bottom of the stairs. “Did you find a moment to rest your feet? I bet they get sore from all of the walking and standing you do around here,” he said to Little Shirl.
“My feet are fine. I don’t think I’m heavy enough to make them sore.”
“I wish I had that problem.”
“I can prepare a bath for you and rub them later if you like,” she said.
“Oh.” Hacksaw’s brows lifted. Bright-eyed, he said, “I think that offer tops the one Nina made me. But I’ll pass. I’d hate for you to look upon my feet. They aren’t a pretty sight.” He drained the rest of his ale. It was a strong brew, but no match for Granda’s pumpkin cider, so he still had his wits about him. So far, he had Nina under his spell. He could tell she was a sordid woman, but she hid it very well. It was no wonder that Nath was so easily crossed up with her. If Hacksaw wasn’t already the wiser, Nina would have captivated him too. “Tell me, do you get many elves up here?”
“They’ve been passing through and staying for longer stretches.” Little Shirl picked up his tankard and ran her dishcloth over the bar. “Do you want more mead?”
“No, not at the moment.” He scratched his cheek. “I’m just not very used to seeing elves in a place like this. The ones I crossed always kept to themselves.”
“They still keep to themselves,” she said with a little fire in her voice. “They take their time when they order something to eat or drink. You serve them and they sneer a little. They talk to themselves in their own language, acting like you aren’t even there. Then, when they do speak, they startle you. Or at least they startle me. I’m busy thinking about other things while I wait. But Nina insists that I give them my full attention. I’d rather watch water come to a boil.”
“Ho-ho,” he laughed. “I like your dry wit.”
“Yes, well, I thought elves were very friendly, but they keep their noses turned up in the air too much for me.”
“So, what are they doing here? Business?”
“A lot of them sell reams of cloth that I have to admit are very extravagant. The women in this town gobble it up, as well as their glassware.” She folded up her towel and stuck it in her apron. “They make these little glass-blown figurines. Very decorative items. Then, they move on, but I think some of these elves are guests for the city lord’s wedding. I get them mixed up sometimes because they often dress alike.”
With his eyes fixed on the elves at the bottom of the steps, he said, “I can see that.” There were four elves in all, standing on the stairs, chatting among themselves with their backs to Nina. Men were coming down the steps but couldn’t get through. Nina’s face had reddened. “Eh, you said the city lord is getting married?” Hacksaw asked.
“Yes, the full ceremony is being held in the castle tomorrow. Part of the celebration has been mixed in with the Festival of the Coming Winter. City Lord Tobias and Princess Janna will be wed.” Little Shirl frowned. “His legacy will be cemented in Riegelwood forever after that.”
Hacksaw knew who Tobias was because Nath told him all about the members of the Black Hand, but was careful not to show it. It was a twisted-up bit of information that Nath would need to know. He’d have to figure out a way to slip out, but until then, the old knight played along. “You don’t sound like you care for this Tobias fellow.”
“I like tradition. Tobias is not part of the bloodline here that the other houses are. He’s an outsider. I’m not sure how he came to such power.”
“What happened to the city lord before him?”
“City Lord Janders died from a failing heart. He was never healthy. After Princess Janna was rescued, he seemed much better, but then fell suddenly ill. He died a few weeks later. It’s very sad.”
“Indeed.” Hacksaw scratched his beard. “Uh, as I understand it, wouldn’t Princess Janna be the new city lord in her father’s stead?”
“She’s not strong, and the rival houses want to claim the city lordship. I think she’s marrying Tobias to strengthen her reign. He’s been at her side since she came back, and she named him city lord in her father’s stead.” Little Shirl retied the strings on her pink apron. It was without a drop of mead or flake of food on it. “It’s been very tense and unsavory since he’s taken power. The people think that the wedding will fix things, but I know it won’t. I can feel it.”
“You’ll be fine, I’m sure. Politics and family matters such as this are just a part of life. The tides of change will shift many times in your life.” He laid his hand on her shoulder. “Endure, but you can still enjoy.”
She nodded. “I need to get back to work now. Don’t forget about that foot rub. The offer is still good.”
Despite being cold outside, the inside warmed considerably. Absentmindedly, Hacksaw pushed his sleeves up. Little Shirl had dropped a load of information on him that he didn’t anticipate. It wasn’t any of his business if Princess Janna married Tobias, but it could only be bad news for a city like Riegelwood. The place would be run by slavers and bandits, and more innocent people would be lost. His plan had been to separate Nina from the Gauntlet of Goam and somehow cast blame on the Men of Whispers. But it seemed like an impossibility now. Judging by his conversation with the stalwart woman, she probably slept with it on. He drummed his fingers on the side of his tankard. We’re going to need a new tactic. And I need to get out of here.
“Did you miss me?” Nina appeared out of nowhere.
Hacksaw hopped in his stool. “You spooked me! Huh-huh. I was about to rescue you from those elves.”
“No need. They are on their way,” she said, taking her place on the barstool. She placed her hand on his knee. “So, did you miss me?”
“Er, of course, but Little Shirl chatted with me a bit.”
“She did? About what?”
“Well, she talked about the elves, because I asked about them. And she told me there’s a wedding tomorrow. I guess that explains all of your guests and this excitement. Seems like an important time for this city.”
Nina rolled her eyes. “I’m sure Little Shirl’s face was drowning in her frown when she told it.” She scooted closer. There wasn’t a hand’s breadth between their faces. “Little Shirl’s family lays claim to the city lordship, but it’s not going to turn that way for them. So, she’s a little bitter.”
“I see.”
“Hacksaw, that mead is getting to me, and I feel very drawn to you. It’s not like me.”
“Er, well, maybe we should get some fresh air before either one of us does something we might regret,” he said. He needed to slip out and track down Nath. Nina coiled her arms around him. “Will you join me?”
With dreamy eyes, she said, “I suppose, but let’s take a look from the balconies. We can see the events from there.” She took him by the wrist with her left hand and locked her fingers tight. “The view is splendid.”
She dragged him through the tavern. Lords of Thunder. Her grip. I can’t break it.
CHAPTER 64
Don’t panic, Nath. Just because the orcs are here doesn’t mean that they are here for you.
Moving at a brisk but still hobbled pace, Nath’s hammer cane clicked down the porch front planks away from the stage. The sight of the orcs, wearing the iron-faced insignia of Slaver Town, shook him up. If they were in Riegelwood, then chances were that they told the Black Hand Nath had escaped. He crossed the street, splitting the bonfires where the people were gathered, and ducked into an alley. He pressed along the wall, catching his breath.
Think it through, Nath. Think it through.
Unlike the time he spent
in Riegelwood before, the mixture of people had changed. There were dwarves, halflings, gnomes, elves, part-elves, orcs, and part-orcs. He was certain there were other people too that he hadn’t encountered yet, but the town was wild in celebration. Listening to the raucous music and cajolers, he covered his ears.
This is madness.
He could feel his heart thumping in his ears. There was so much to take in. The Men of Whispers were primed to snatch more victims in the dark of the night. Nath could only imagine that person would be someone among the visitors for the wedding and winter celebration. In addition to that, Princess Janna was about to be wed to Tobias, leader of the Black Hand. If that happened, the entire city would be in a death hold. And worst of all, the Black Hand could possibly expect that he might be near. They probably had people searching the streets now.
I have to find Hacksaw. I need to tell him what is going on. Just keep your head down.
Nath took to the street, angling back toward the Oxen Inn. Revelers bumped him on more than one occasion, jostling him as they passed. One bumped into him hard. He felt a deft hand slip into his cloak. He grabbed the hand, squeezing the fingers until they cracked. The young man let out a gasp. Nath said, “Respect your elders, you filthy little pilferer.” The young man scurried away.
Shoving forward, Nath finally found himself facing the front porch of the Oxen Inn. His stomach twisted the moment he looked up at the wooden sign hanging from two chains swaying in the wind. There was a painted picture of a pair of oxen pulling a plow. Horns were mounted on both sides. Men and women crowded the front porch, smoking pipes and swilling ale. He hoped to find Hacksaw among them, but there was no such luck. It was mostly waitresses in pink aprons seated in rocking chairs, or benches, or on men’s laps with their hands draped over their necks.
Enslaved: The Odyssey of Nath Dragon - Book 2 (The Lost Dragon Chronicles) Page 19
