Martin Hengst - The Darkest Hour

Without another word, he turned on his heel and stalked back to the wagon, climbing into the driver’s position. Following his lead, the other men holstered their weapons. Tiadaria gaped at them. The tale of their heroic battle against the Xarundi usually got her at least the offer of a drink and sometimes an invitation to a meal. The condition of the road wasn’t the only difference out here.

With a snap of the reigns, the wagon started forward. As it passed, the stranger tossed her belt knife into the mud at her feet. She knelt to retrieve the Captain’s blade, shaking the worst of the mud from the blade.

“Wait!” Tiadaria called. “Can you at least tell me how to get to Ethergate?”

“Follow the road, girl.” The man called, without turning around. “Another half a day will get you there. Sooner if you find your horse.”

It may have just been the rain, but Tiadaria was almost certain she heard a rough laugh as the cart moved onward. Tia stood in the middle of the muddy road, watching the wagon until it had disappeared from view. She wasn’t sure how much worse this day could get. She wanted to sit down and cry. Instead, she put one foot in front of the other, following the deep ruts made by the wagon.

Minutes blended into hours as she trudged through the mud. At some point, she had lost the feeling in her toes. If her boots weren’t ruined, she would be absolutely amazed. Night was coming on quickly. She would have to find somewhere to while away the hours until dawn. It would be a miserable evening without her tinderbox.

A flash of lighting lit the sky and Tia saw the shadow of a curtain wall against the fading sky. That had to be Ethergate, she thought. Even if it wasn’t, it was likely somewhere she could get a room for the night. At this point, she’d even take a stable stall if it meant getting out of the rain. She thanked every minor deity she knew that her purse was still safely tucked into her belt. A sudden apprehension flashed through her and she dropped her hand to her belt, searching frantically for the drawstring pouch until she found it, its narrow neck wrapped around and knotted. She sighed in relief and set off toward the city with a lighter heart.

Night had fallen by the time she reached Ethergate. Large braziers on the top of the wall burned with purple flames. Tia didn’t care what color the flames were as long as she could get near enough to them to get warm and possibly dry some of the wrinkles from her fingertips.

She reached the portcullis and was relieved to find it open still. She stepped into the passage, relishing in the fact that for the first time in nearly a full day, she wasn’t being rained on. She leaned against the wall. Her feet ached so badly and she still had to find somewhere to sleep for the night.

“You look like you’ve seen better days,” a voice came from ahead. A lantern flared in the dark and an armored guard approached her. “Worse rains we’ve had around here in, oh, probably ten years or so.”

“Just my luck to be caught out in them, then,” Tiadaria tried to keep the bitterness from her voice with little success. The guard smiled.

“There’s an inn just beyond the wall, take the road into the city, turn left, it's the building on the right.”

“Thank you!” Tia didn’t need to fake the gratitude she felt toward the man. All she wanted was a warm fire and a bed. “My horse bolted on the road during the storm, I don’t suppose he’s made his way here?”

The guard shook his head. “No, I’m sorry. I’ll put a word in with my men. If the patrols find him, they’ll bring him in.”

“Thank you again,” Tiadaria said with a wave and started toward the city proper.

“And Miss?” the guard called. Tia turned to see him motion toward her collar. “The Guard Captain will want to see your papers. Go get yourself a room and a warm fire. It can wait until morning.”

Tia nodded and continued into the city. It was a good thing that her presentation could wait until the morning. She still wasn’t sure how she was going to pull that off with Nightwind being missing in action. Oh well, she’d worry about burning that bridge when she had to. For now, there was an inn, with beds, and fires, and she had money. This was going to be the best night in a long time.

All activity in the common room stopped when Tiadaria entered the Elvish Harlot. It was obvious that the majority of those in attendance were regulars. Every eye in the building followed her to the counter where the tiny innkeeper rested on both elbows. She’d have guessed he was in at least his eighth decade. The skin drawn over his skull was deeply creased, but his blue eyes were as clear and bright as any Tiadaria had ever seen. She suspected that the man cultivated his helpless appearance, and she wouldn’t be at all surprised if he had more than one trick up his sleeve.

“How can I help ye, Miss?” His smile was welcoming, if a bit eager and some of the apprehension that she had gained on the road began to lift.

“A room, please, with the biggest, hottest hearth you have.” Tia noticed belatedly that she was dripping into a puddle around her feet. She went red right up to the tips of her ears.

The innkeeper peered over the counter and chuckled, nodding to her.

“Aye, Miss…And don’t you be worrying about that. These floors have seen far worse than a little rainwater.” He winked at her before he turned to the pegboard behind the counter, lifting a key from its neatly numbered peg. He laid the key on the counter and looked at her expectantly.

The intervening pause was uncomfortable, with the innkeeper staring at her and Tia having no idea what he expected of her. She was used to the Imperium where the cost of goods was posted, or if it wasn’t, then the vendor or merchant was more than willing to tell you exactly how many crowns something cost.

“I, um-” She stammered, her voice the barest whisper. “How much for the room?”

The innkeeper leaned forward on his elbows. “Depends on what you’ve got, Miss. Three average garnets is the going rate. Or a good quality sapphire. Trade goods, well, depends what you’ve got.”

“I don’t have any of those things,” Tia replied, her heart sinking. She was so close to a bed, and a fire, and…and! She wanted to cry. “I only just arrived from the Imperium. All I have is crowns.”

“Well why didn’t you say so?” The innkeeper smiled tolerantly at her, producing a thin metal block that he placed on the counter. “Gold is gold, doesn’t matter whose stamp is on it. Let’s see then?”

Tia took her purse and reached inside, unsure what to offer and not wanting to offend or seem foolish. She took a five crown piece from the small leather bag and handed it to the old man. He raised an eyebrow, but took the coin and rang it against the block of metal on the counter, catching it on the first bounce. Tiadaria watched in amazement as he made the coin dance over his knuckles before it disappeared into his palm.

“How long did you plan on staying, Miss-”

“Tiadaria. Two nights? Maybe three?”

The innkeeper scratched his chin, then nodded. “Three nights, blackrock for the hearth, and meals, yes?”

“Yes, please.”

Tiadaria was starting to wonder if she wasn’t being taken advantage of. Five crowns was a lot of money. In Dragonfell, a five crown piece would get you a week in the finest inn with all the accoutrements. She supposed some value was lost in the exchange, but even so!

Deciding that looking foolish was better than being ignorant, Tiadaria had decided to ask about the costs when the man sat a red velvet bag on the counter. He slipped the crown piece inside and rooted around in the depths of the bag. He placed four blood-red stones on the counter and deposited next to them a slightly larger sapphire. The innkeeper pushed the stones toward her.