Martin Hengst - The Darkest Hour

“This’ll help you trade while you’re in Ethergate. I did you right on the exchange, since you won’t have had a chance to visit the brokerage yet.” He laid a finger aside of his nose as if he had involved her in some grand conspiracy. He offered her the key. “End of the hall, last door on the left. I’ll send a boy to tend the fire.”

Tiadaria reached over the counter and clasped the innkeeper’s hands in hers. “Thank you. Thank you so much.”

The old man smiled. “Ethergate isn’t that much different from Dragonfell or Blackbeach, Miss Tiadaria. Just different enough to keep you on your toes.” With another wink, he withdrew his hands from hers and shuffled to the end of the counter where another patron was patiently waiting.

Tia took the key and following the hallway to its end, opened the last door on the left and slipped inside. A small oil lamp burned on the table. The hearth was banked, and put off a warmth that, though it was meager, felt amazing. She struggled out of her boots and had shucked her breeches when there was a knock at the door. Choosing urgency over modesty, she threw the door open to find a young man standing there with a bucket of blackrock.

“Come in,” she said, standing aside. “Please hurry, I’m freezing.”

The young man entered the room, pointedly not looking in Tiadaria’s direction. He prodded the fire to life and laid out a layer of blackrock on the grate. He kept his back to her for the duration of the process.

“Generally wearing clothes helps with the whole freezing thing,” he said, still facing the hearth.

Tiadaria couldn’t help but laugh. “I was soaked straight through and couldn’t stand being in wet clothes another minute. Once you’ve properly tended the hearth, I promise I’ll dry my clothes and be more presentable.” More for his comfort than hers, she took the blanket from the foot of the bed and wrapped it around her shoulders.

“Blackrock takes a minute to catch,” he remarked as he turned toward the door. Seeing that she had covered up, he breathed an audible sigh and glanced at her. “I’ll come check on it in a minute. Can I get you anything?”

“Something hot to drink? And eat? I’m starving! All I’ve had is trail rations for days.”

The young man’s wrinkled nose told Tiadaria all she needed to know about his opinion of travel rations. “Bess made a pot roast for the working folk, there’s probably some left.”

“Please and thank you. That would be perfect.”

The porter slipped out of the room without another word and Tiadaria set about shucking the rest of her clothes. She wrapped the blanket around her naked frame and spread out her clothing as near the hearth as she could manage without worrying that she’d catch something on fire and burn the inn down.

By the time she had managed the arrangement to her satisfaction, the young man had returned with a blanket under one arm and a laden tray balanced on the fingertips of his other hand. He tossed the blanket on the bed, and deftly transferred the tray to the little table. Nodding to Tiadaria, he crossed in front of her to check the fire and gave a half smile at the array of clothing laid out before it.

“I thought the extra blanket was in order,” he said, apparently satisfied with the state of the fire. “I brought you some things from the kitchen. Nothing fancy, but I suspect it’s better than travel rations.” He wrinkled his nose again, shaking his head. “Goodnight!”

Before she could offer a word of thanks, he had passed through into the hallway, closing the door behind him. She threw the bar on the door, guaranteeing her privacy, and turned to inspect the tray.

It was a banquet. It was more than a banquet! It was a feast! There was a metal plate with a few slices of roast beef, some carrots, a piece of crusty bread, a small crock of butter, and most importantly, a mug of hot spiced cider. This she took carefully from the tray, cradling it in her hands and wishing its warmth to spread through her palms into the rest of her body.

She ate more quickly than was probably advisable, or ladylike, and then tucked herself into bed with both blankets wrapped around her like a cocoon. Tiadaria was asleep almost as soon as her head hit the pillow.

* * *

The next morning, Tiadaria was awoken by an insistent pounding on the door. She dragged the blanket up over her head, willing whoever was causing such a racket to just go away and leave her alone.

“Miss Tiadaria?” She recognized the muffled voice as that of the innkeeper she had spoken to last night. It would do her well not to alienate that old man. He had given her far more information about how to get on in Ethergate than anyone else had. “Miss Tiadaria? Open up please, there’s someone here who needs to speak to you.”

“Just a minute,” she called. Tia doubted she had time to get dressed, so she wrapped the blanket around herself once again and went to the door, lifting the bolt and hauling it open.

The innkeeper stood there with a man she recognized as the gate guard who had told her she would need to present herself. Her heart went to her throat for a minute before she realized he was grinning at her.

“Sorry to bother you, Miss,” the guard said with a smile. “But we thought you might want these.” From behind his back, he produced her saddlebags, offering them to her with a wide grin. “All apologies, but we went through them to find your papers. I’ve already sent word to the Guard Captain, so you’re free to stay in Ethergate as long as you like.”

“Oh thank you!” Tiadaria flung herself at the guard, trying to hug him, take the saddlebags, and hold the blanket all at the same time. The old innkeeper laughed and took the saddlebags from the guard, laying them on the table and retrieving the tray. He excused himself and disappeared down the hall. Belatedly, Tiadaria realized that she had her saddlebags. “Nightwind!” she gasped.

“He’s fine,” the guard assured her, nodding. “We gave him a good rub down, a bag of oats, and put him in the guard livery. He’ll be fine there until you move him to the livery here, or wherever.”

“How can I repay you? I don’t even know your name!”

The guard smiled. “My name is Thomas, Lady Tiadaria. You paid me in full when you sent those mangy dogs back into their hole.” He paused just a moment as he turned to leave. “My brother, Cabot, says to tell you hello.” With a grin and a little wave, he closed the door.

Tiadaria glanced around the room, almost unable to believe her good fortune. She flipped open her saddlebags. The contents were still fairly waterlogged, but her traveling clothes were dry, and that was a start. She dressed quickly, delighting in the warm cloth against her skin. Even her boots were mostly dry. She looked out the window and realized that the sun was shining. Things were definitely looking up.

Locking her room behind her, Tia made her way to the common room. It was much less crowded than the night before and seemed much more welcoming. Though she strongly suspected that was mostly due to her no longer being soaking wet and dripping on the floor.

She approached the innkeeper who was leaning on his counter. It seemed to be his customary spot.

“I never got your name, sir.”

“No, Miss Tiadaria, you didn’t. You can call me Harold. You’ve already met my boys.”

“Your boys?” For a moment, she thought he meant the porter from last night, but he had said boys, plural.

“Cabot and Thomas, Miss.”

“Cabot is your son? And the guard, Thomas?”

“Aye, and fine boys they are…but you’re not standing here looking to climb my family tree. What can I do for you?”

Tiadaria fingered her collar before answering. “I’m looking for someone, an apprentice of Master Faxon Indra’s. I suspect I can find him in the library, if you can point me in the right direction.”