Chapter Seven #2
Susanna simply nodded, barely glancing at him, and Kress headed down the road, looking for a tavern or inn that had sleeping accommodations.
He found one rather quickly, called The Nag’s Head, and reined his horse alongside.
Dismounting, he secured the animal and headed into the warm, stale structure.
The Nag’s Head was a rather big place, with a long, single-story common room attached to a bigger building alongside it.
The common room was made of stone, and the second building out of wattle and daub, but there was a carved out doorway connecting the two.
The wattle and daub building, whitewashed and with great, dark beams across the fa?ade, had three floors to it, a remarkable size for so small a village.
Entering the stone building, Kress paused by the door and took stock of the place.
The common room was only about half-full, with most people hunkered down for the coming night.
It smelled strongly of bread and ale, and Kress managed to find the innkeeper, who was more than happy to provide him with what he needed – at least three chambers and a meal.
In fact, the inn was empty that night, having six chambers in total in the wattle and daub building attached, so Kress took all of them because they could make good use out of them.
Paying the man a handsome sum for both the rooms and an evening meal, he headed out to bring the carriage, and the knights, back to The Nag’s Head.
In truth, it had been a long day and everyone was more than happy to settle down to a good meal and a warm bed.
Since the inn’s patrons seemed to be concentrated on one end of the common room where a large hearth was blazing away, the party from Castle Rising gathered on the opposite end of the room where a much smaller hearth snapped and crackled, yet still giving off a goodly amount of heat.
There was a long table here, and several smaller ones, all of them leaning or damaged in some manner.
Only the longer table had benches that seemed sturdy, so that was where everyone settled.
Alexander, Bric, and Achilles sat at the end near the hearth, leaving the women somewhat removed from it and the heat it provided.
Cadelyn and Susanna had entered the establishment with Kress bringing up the rear, and when he saw the knights sitting nearest the fire, he cleared his throat loudly.
They looked up at him and as Kress used expressions and minute gestures, they figured out that it would be the chivalrous thing to let Cadelyn sit near the fire.
When Alexander stood up and offered her his seat, she took it.
Susanna sat across from her when Achilles begrudgingly moved down the bench.
“This is ever so exciting,” Cadelyn said, removing her traveling gloves. “I have never been to an inn.”
Kress was standing next to the hearth, watching the innkeeper and a couple of serving wenches emerge from the kitchens bearing trays of steaming food. He, too, was removing his gloves, tucking them into the belt at his side.
“Not ever?” he asked.
She shook her head. “Never,” she replied. “I have spent my time at either Norwich Castle, when I was younger, or Castle Rising. There are inns in Lynn, of course, but I never stayed in one. Lady Summerlin always told us to be careful of those frequenting inns and taverns.”
Kress snorted. “She is correct,” he said. “We are here to eat and sleep, my lady, and nothing more. An inn is nothing to become excited over. All you’ll find here are beggars and drunks.”
He damaged her enthusiasm a little, but not enough.
This was all new to her and she wasn’t going to let the knight’s discouragement spoil her mood.
She was still looking around the place, still showing great interest, as the food was placed on the table in front of them and the innkeeper began passing out big, steaming bowls of something thick and liquid.
One serving wench poured wine into cups while yet another passed around warm bread and butter.
The food now had Cadelyn’s attention as she peered into the large wooden bowl that had been placed before her. “Sirrah?” she said to the innkeeper. “What have you brought us?”
The man, the dirty sort with missing teeth, pointed to the contents. “Gruel, my lady,” he said. “’Tis a beef gruel. It’s quite good.”
Cadelyn stuck her spoon into it; it was thick with oats. The liquid was beef broth and there were big chunks of boiled beef and carrots in it, like a stew. Little flecks of green floated around in it, too. Timidly, she took a bite and realized very quickly that it was delicious.
“It is,” she agreed, mouth full. “How do you make it?”
The innkeeper scratched his dirty scalp. “Beef and broth, oats, parsley and salt,” he said. “My wife makes it. She lets it cook all day.”
Because Cadelyn had tasted the food first and declared it delicious, the others were digging in to it as well.
“Please tell your wife that it is delightful,” Cadelyn said. “And bring more.”
The innkeeper shuffled off, back to the kitchen, as Kress went to the table and shoved Bric down the bench so he could have a seat next to Cadelyn.
She was his charge, after all. But the truth was that he couldn’t admit that he just didn’t want anyone else sitting next to her. Especially not the handsome MacRohan.
The beef gruel was quickly and ravenously consumed by men and women who hadn’t eaten all day. The table was mostly silent because everyone was so busy eating, but as Kress pulled apart a hunk of crusty bread and dipped it into his bowl, he glanced at Cadelyn.
“Where is your priest?” he asked. “Surely he would like to eat something.”
Cadelyn swallowed the bite in her mouth before replying. “He is in the carriage, still,” she said. “He is… writing. He is writing something.”
She stumbled over the last few words and Kress suspected why. “For you?”
Cadelyn nodded, looking around the table to sure no one was listening to her. “Aye.”
Her head went down and she shoveled more food in her mouth. The woman had been nothing but supremely confident since nearly the moment he met her, so her rather nervous manner when she spoke of her priest, or more correctly her cleric, writing something for her seemed out of place.
But Kress knew why.
Hell, now he was a party to it.
A party to her lewd poems. He knew why the cleric had come and he knew very well what was going on. So why was he allowing it? He’d been asking himself that all day. More to the point, he’d been asking himself that very question since Cadelyn had confessed all to him two nights ago.
What she was doing was shocking at best, but as he’d thought about it, he realized that it was also very clever.
Cadelyn of Vendotia was no shrinking violet, but a woman who pursued her passion, no matter that it was unconventional.
She’d even turned it into a money-making venture, which Kress thought was rather impressive.
The woman had high-minded ideas, or so it seemed.
Or perhaps she was just a foolish woman with a foolish hobby.
He hadn’t quite figured it out yet. But what he did know was that he admired her determination, which was why he hadn’t told Padraig of her secret life as Lady Dark.
Perhaps it wasn’t right what she was doing, but she’d done it all under her liege’s nose, and it wasn’t his place to enlighten Summerlin as to just how scandalous Lady Cadelyn was.
And then, there was a matter of trust.
She had trusted him. He swore not to tell. And no matter what, he wouldn’t go back on his word. Besides… the woman was in for enough disappointment with her future marriage and Kress wasn’t going to add to her sorrows.
Let her keep her secret.
“Then you must make sure to send him some food before he goes to sleep so the man does not starve,” he said. Then, he glanced up at the table. “Speaking of sleep, I have secured all six rooms the inn had to offer. It seems as if we may all have our own chamber for the night.”
Everyone nodded to varying degrees and Kress could see that Achilles immediately looked to the serving wenches who were prowling the room, bringing food and drink, or dusting off tables and chairs.
He knew what the man had in mind now that he’d been told he’d have a private room.
Achilles and women were the natural order of things.
“And I intend to take advantage of that,” Bric said, distracting Kress from his train of thought. “I might actually get some sleep. Achilles snores like an old bear and I am close to smothering him with a pillow if I am forced to share a chamber with him again.”
Alexander and Kress started to laugh, but Achilles didn’t think it was so funny. “At least I do not talk in my sleep,” he said. “You have conversations all night, MacRohan.”
“I have to if I am to drown out your snoring.”
More chuckles from Kress and Alexander. “God, that is nothing,” Kress said.
“You should have seen him when we were going to The Levant those years ago. The sea travel made him ill and you have never heard someone retch so loudly in your life. It sounded like a man being strangled every time. The first time it happened, I was convinced someone was trying to kill him. I went charging onto deck with my sword drawn only to find Achilles hanging over the side of the boat, chunks blowing in the wind.”
Bric laughed loudly at Achilles’ expense. “Coming to know the man as I have, I would believe it.”
Before they could continue that line of conversation, Alexander held up a hand. “We should probably not speak of such things with ladies present,” he said. “Remember the company you keep, good knights. More pleasant supper conversation, if you please.”