Raymond E. Feist - Queen of Storms

By the time he had climbed down the ladder, Hava had reached the back gate to the stabling yard. ‘Anyone inside?’ she asked.

‘No,’ answered Hatu. ‘Samuel is on his way to Declan’s to get another bucket of nails.’ He wiped his forehead. ‘And we’re almost done.’

She motioned him to follow her inside. ‘Where’s Roary?’

‘Something to do with helping his mother do something at her shop. He’ll be back in an hour.’

Hava glanced around the now-restored common room of the Inn of the Three Stars. The day before they’d moved casks of ale, barrels of wine, bottles of wine, and whisky, into storage. They had also stocked the kitchen, which was why the roof was not quite finished. Hatu was determined that by tomorrow they would once again be open for business.

‘You know that fellow who came around the day before yesterday – dark hair, tall, looking for a room? The one you sent over to Jacob’s barn?’

‘Yes. Why?’

Hava recounted what she and Molly had observed, and when she finished Hatu said, ‘Sounds like something we may need to report to the masters.’

‘Almost certainly. Who will go?’

Hatu said, ‘It will have to be me.’

Hava’s frown indicated that she didn’t understand why that was the case, so Hatu continued, ‘Haven’t you noticed? None of the women here, except for Molly Bowman, travel alone.’

‘Odd, isn’t it?’ asked Hava.

‘I gave up trying to understand why people do a lot of things since we started travelling with the masters,’ said Hatu softly.

Hava nodded. ‘What will you tell them?’

By ‘them’, she meant the masters who would receive his report.

‘I think I’ll wait a day or two and see if that fellow and the man you said he met reveal anything.’ He glanced around the almost-finished common room and said, ‘I think we were fortunate to have chosen this business. I can’t imagine a better place in Beran’s Hill to have information come to us.’

Hava nodded. ‘I’m not sure how we’ll do as an innkeeper and wife, but if those are the roles we need to play, so be it.’

Hatu smiled, slipped his arm around her, and gave her a slight hug. ‘I’m enjoying the wife part.’

She pushed him away with mock disdain. ‘None of that until you’ve bathed. You reek.’

He laughed. ‘It was hot up on that roof.’ With a sigh, he added, ‘But I’m not quite done yet, and those shingles will not attach themselves.’

‘Off you go then,’ Hava said with a smile. ‘And do bathe before tonight.’ She looked him up and down slowly. ‘You still need more practice in bed.’

He raised his eyebrows in mock shock. ‘Practice?’

‘You’re almost competent as a lover but your technique needs work,’ she said, turning her back and disappearing into the kitchen before he could respond.

Chuckling to himself, Hatu climbed back up the ladder. This roof would be finished before the evening meal. Then all that was left was to hang the sign above the door. He returned to where he had been, knelt and picked up a shingle, hammer, and nails, and resumed his labour.

MOLLY FINISHED SHARING WHAT SHE and Hava had seen with Declan, who silently listened. For a long moment he considered what she had told him and then said, ‘That does sound like something to fret over.’

Molly nodded. ‘They weren’t ordinary soldiers. They were guardsmen or something like that.’

Declan nodded. He had seen enough men-at-arms pass through Oncon, the village where he had been raised, to appreciate what Molly meant. Household, honour guards, castellans, all tended to be the most accomplished of soldiers, and to see a company of such dispatched on an escort mission indicated that the person they escorted was of some consequence.

‘Where can I get a glimpse of these fellows?’

‘I think Jacob’s barn is where the one fellow who was here slept, or maybe one of the other inns? Though Hava’s inn is supposed to open again tomorrow. Maybe there?’

‘I’ll ask Gwen. She’s over there now inspecting the place for Hatu and Hava …’ He let the words trail off. Staring out of the large open door of his blacksmith shop, he finally said, ‘She’s still in mourning. She holds it in well, maybe too well. The tears were there at first, but …’ He looked concerned. ‘I think perhaps she’s trying too hard to be strong, you know?’

‘I know,’ said Molly. Though she was usually a woman of few words, she added, ‘Once you get her with child, things will change.’

Declan fought against smiling at the thought of children but couldn’t help it. His life had taken some unexpected turns since his own childhood and he wondered how he had been so fortunate.

‘If you find those men let me know,’ Molly said. ‘I’m curious.’ Without another word, she left the forge, leaving Declan alone with his thoughts.

Since returning from a visit with Baron Dumarch, Declan had informed everyone in town that he was authorized to organize a militia. Over the weeks since then, the able-bodied men of Beran’s Hill had organized a spot of training here and there. Some grudgingly, some enthusiastically, but all understanding that since the raid on the town by a mercenary named Tyree and his band, who had burned the Inn of the Three Stars, killed Gwen’s father, and abducted two women, it was necessary – and each man serving who didn’t miss training received a few coins, which tipped the balance.

As a result, Declan found himself more and more inclined to think of himself as the party responsible for town defence, even though the baron’s authorization of a militia was vague in terms of organization and mandate. The arrival of this mysterious man, escorted by elite troops, fully reinforced that sense of responsibility. It made him curious as to who the two men were and what they were about.

HATU FELT REFRESHED AFTER BATHING. His hair was still damp – and he had used the hair dye he had bought in Marquenet to keep the bright red toned down to a brownish red that was almost as dark as Hava’s. Given his upbringing, regular bathing never occurred to him, but as he had a proper bathhouse just outside the rear entrance to the inn, he planned on using it regularly – once a week, perhaps more often.

Gwen’s father had owned the Inn of the Three Stars, and she had literally been born here. Hatu and Hava stood quietly waiting for Gwen’s judgement.

Gwen surveyed the common room and nodded. Her eyes had a slight sheen to them, but no tears. Softly she said, ‘Better than new. Da had some fixin’ he never quite got around to, and the old bar was roughly used.’ She nodded towards the highly polished, massive oak bar. ‘Splinters, stains from spills, cracks here and there. This one’s … beautiful.’

Hatu smiled. The two women stood in stark contrast to one another, Gwen voluptuous, not quite stocky, and Hava with her slender, not quite boyish figure. He recognized that most men would find Gwen more attractive, yet to him Hava was the most perfect beauty he’d ever seen.

‘Before I began travelling with Hava and her father, I was apprenticed for a time to a boatbuilder. He showed me how to seal wood and put a finish on it …’ Hatu said to Gwen, who let out a long sigh.

After a short pause, Gwen asked, ‘You two ready?’

‘Not really,’ said Hatu jokingly.

Hava said, ‘We’d be helpless without you, Gwen. When we agreed to buy the inn and repair it … let’s say there’s a lot more to running an inn than either of us imagined. How to stock the supplies, and what keeps and what doesn’t, which ale to buy …’ She fell silent a moment, then added, ‘Just so much.’

Hatu nodded agreement. ‘Had I known, I might have changed my mind.’ He kept his tone light.