Chapter Eight #2
“Without him ever having to lift a finger,” I added dryly. “I already didn’t like the king of this world, but I’m liking him less and less each day.”
“Don’t say that too loud now, Noah,” Alden warned as he shot an anxious look over his shoulder. “Such words, as plain as they might seem, could end up with you being carted back to Emberstone and beheaded.”
“Well, I wouldn’t want to take them away from their mission,” I drawled. “We’re heading to the inn, too. I want to see if I can find out more information about them.”
“Tread carefully,” Alden said with a small nod. “That Commander Nuro strikes me as the sneaky type.”
“They won’t learn anything about me or the shard,” I promised. “I just hope the other Gladers don’t let on to anything, either.”
“They won’t,” Alden said in a confident tone. “None of us here are exactly fond of the king, or his lack of aid during the darkest time of our existence here in Gladewood.”
“And you’re one of us now, Noah,” Ellyn said as she squeezed my bicep. “We don’t rat out our own kind.”
I knew I was a Glader, but hearing it reaffirmed always made me feel warm inside.
The other people of Gladewood hadn’t slipped up yet. Before we’d closed the gates, we had dozens of adventurers touring through this place, and yet not once had anyone revealed my secret.
So long as we had the shard, Gladewood was protected, and no one wanted to let that go, either.
“I trust you all,” I said. “But we need to be vigilant. If Nuro is as sneaky as he seems, he might try and wait for someone to slip up.”
“I’ll see if I can speak to everyone in a casual manner, away from the prying eyes of the king’s Hands,” Alden said. “Holding a town meeting now will be too obvious.”
“Have you heard anything from the wizards?” I asked. “If a carrier pigeon arrives, and they intercept it--”
“I’ll send out a new message to them, Burnberry, and Midhallow,” the Overseer cut me off. “I’ll let them know about our ‘situation’ and tell them complete silence is needed regarding the shard.”
“I’m sure they know that, too, but it’s better to be safe than sorry,” Ellyn said. “We’ll see you soon, Alden.”
“Good day to you, Ellyn,” Alden said with a firm nod. “And to you, Noah.”
I waved goodbye to Alden before Fang, Ellyn, and I jumped back into the side-by-side. I did a quick U-turn before I drove us back to the main road through town and parked us just outside the Frostfyre.
The Hands’ horses had been rather obnoxiously tied to the backs of some of the market stalls. The close proximity of the large white mares to the sellers was clearly making them uncomfortable, but what could they do?
If saying anything remotely challenging was a reflection of the king, we had no choice but to cater to their whims.
I hated it.
I hated it even more because this was what we had avoided with Shaar and his little occupation. Now, simply because these assholes bore the royal crest, we had no choice but to bend the knee.
When I pushed open the door of the inn, I was greeted with the strong smell of roasting meat. Bathilda was furiously scrubbing down the counter of the bar in front of Commander Nuro, who had a look of slight disgust on his face.
All of the soldiers inside had taken off their golden helmets and placed them somewhere nearby their person. Commander Nuro was sitting alone at the bar, sporting cropped salt-and-pepper hair, while the other Hands took purchase on the various unoccupied tables.
Lieutenant Giian was sitting with Wyllam, the human who had a mane of short, curly brown hair that hung over his dark brown eyes. Giian himself had ice-white locks slicked back from his forehead and tied into a short ponytail.
Braun, the hulking orc, had short black hair that matched his thick beard, and he was sitting alone nursing a mug of ale.
Three soldiers I hadn’t learned the name of yet were sitting with Aila on one of the central tables.
And some of the younger-looking soldiers had split off into two separate tables away from the rest of the more seasoned folk.
“Is this to your liking, Sir?” Bathilda panted as she paused in her frantic cleaning and wiped her forehead with the back of her hand.
Nuro pressed a finger to the bar before he rubbed his thumb and finger together. He couldn’t hide the grimace on his chiseled face, even if he wanted to, but he gave a reluctant nod.
“Better,” he said in a low voice. “It’ll have to do, I suppose.”
“Apologies, Sir,” Bathilda said as her cheeks burned red. “I’ll pour vinegar on them tonight to make sure they’re clean for you tomorrow.”
“That will just make this place reek even more,” Nuro said in a distasteful tone. “Leave it. This is years’ worth of slime. You can’t ever wash that off now.”
Bathilda bowed her head and curtsied behind the bar before she turned to the keg in the corner. It was then that she spotted me and Ellyn standing in the doorway, with Fang lingering behind.
Her soft brown eyes lit up at the sight of us, and she rushed away from the judgmental commander, who had also spotted our entrance.
“Morning to you again,” Bathilda chirped. “Are you here for a drink?”
“Two of Tirii’s best, please, Bathilda,” I said as I forced my gaze away from the uncouth commander. “And a bone for Fang, if you’ve got it.”
“Of course, right away,” the old innkeeper said hurriedly before she made quick work of pouring our drinks. “We’ve got a roast cooking in the back if you’re interested. The king’s soldiers here fancied it, so consider it a special today.”
And there it was. More demands.
I’d never seen Bathilda so frazzled and stressed before. Her pepper-gray hair was poking out of her tight bun and pointing out in all different kinds of directions. Her cheeks were permanently flushed, and beads of sweat were dripping down her forehead and onto her upper lip.
“We’re okay for right now, but thank you,” I said as I tried to hide my annoyance from my face.
“Four gold for the two, then,” Bathilda said as she placed two mugs of frothing ale down in front of us. “And the bone will be on the house, of course.”
“Speaking of being on the house, have they paid?” I leaned forward and asked Bathilda in a quiet tone.
I didn’t care if Giian could hear me. Now that he had his helmet off, I could see his pointed ears clear as day. The sharp points of one of the unnamed soldiers were sticking out through his light blond locks, too, but, frankly, I was beyond giving a shit.
“They…” Bathilda cleared her throat as her eyes darted nervously toward Nuro. “It’s expected. For the king.”
“Did they at least tip?” I asked.
“N-No,” the old innkeeper quietly admitted. “B-But it’s quite alright. It’s an honor to host men-- and women-- of the realm.”
I scoffed and fished out a handful of coins. I didn’t count them, but there were at least ten that I dropped onto the counter.
I wasn’t going to let Bathilda get cleaned out of house and home because of those entitled bastards. Sure, it wasn’t strictly my problem, but I had enough money to help out my fellow Gladers when I could. And a handful of coins these days was nothing to me.
“It’s on me,” I said as I grabbed my mug. “Tell Frederik we said hello again.”
“I’m sure he’ll come out now that he knows you two are here,” she mumbled to me and Ellyn. “He isn’t too fond of the new party in town.”
“I don’t doubt it,” I snorted. “Thanks, Bathilda.”
“Come on, Fang!” the old woman called out. “There’s a nice juicy bone back here for you.”
The pup perked up at that and quickly scurried across the room with an eager bark to get his promised treat.
I left him in Bathilda’s care and eyed up who I should try speaking to first.
Commander Nuro was sitting like a gargoyle, and I could tell from his tenseness that he definitely didn’t want to be approached. He was the last person I wanted to speak to out of the lot, so I wasn’t complaining.
Instead, I turned to the table with the unknown soldiers.
When I approached, their boisterous conversation died down into silence, and all of their eyes darted to me like I was some kind of threat.
“Do you mind if me and my wife sit here?” I asked as I pulled out one of the chairs across from the adjacent table for Ellyn.
The four soldiers shared an uneasy look, but it was Aila who nodded her head.
“Go ahead,” she said in a gentle voice that completely contradicted the woman I’d seen fighting on the hills today.
“Aila,” a stocky man with dark brown hair braided down his back hissed through his teeth.
He had to be a half-dwarf, because even sitting down, I could see how short he was compared to the rest of the soldiers.
But he wasn’t as wide as someone like Alaek.
Instead, he had the same proportions as Karrida, with the exception of two large ears that stuck out of the side of his squashed face.
“He’s being polite, Kryyk,” Aila said. “This is his town. He can sit where he likes.”
“Well, I’ll sit somewhere else then,” Kryyk grunted and stood up from his chair so quickly the wood scraped against the floor with a creak.
“I’ll come with you, Kryyk,” the elven man with short blond hair said as he scooped up his mug and stood up, too.
“Really, Petyr?” Aila asked as she raised a straight eyebrow.
“Kryyk has the best jokes.” The blond elf shrugged and flashed her a dazzling grin. “Where he goes, I go. Lest I find myself in a dull conversation.”
“Thanks for the trust,” I snorted. “I consider myself quite an interesting man, but each to their own.”
“Perhaps there’s hope yet,” Petyr teased as his smile turned to me. “Perhaps another time.”
“Suit yourself.” I shrugged. “I guess I’ll bore the ears off these two.”
Petyr followed after Kryyk with a hearty laugh. There was no malice or mockery in the sound. It was genuine amusement. And out of everyone, he’d seemed like the easiest to get along with.
Kryyk found the furthest corner away from us that he could, and he sat down on the barrel chair with a grunt. Petyr sat across from him with a dramatic sigh and raised his mug at us from across the room.