The 'carnival' was well worth staying for. Lord Havirn broached his own cellar and kitchens, and if wine wasn't flowing in the fountains, it was because the general populace was too busy pouring it down their collective throats. Neither of the women were entirely sober when they made their way up to their beds.
A few scant minutes after reaching their room, however, Kethry was sober again.
The look of shock and surprise on her partner's face quickly sobered Tarma as well. 'What's wrong?'
'It's Need -- she's pulling again.'
'Oh, bloody hell!' Tarma groaned and pulled her leather tunic back over her head. 'Good thing we hadn't put the candle out. How far?'
'Close. It's not anywhere near as strong as the original pull either. I think it's just one person this time--'
Kethry opened the door to their room, and stared in amazement at the disheveled girl huddled in the hall just outside.
The girl was shivering; had obviously been weeping. Her clothing was torn and seemed to have been thrown on. Both of them recognized her as the inn's chambermaid. She looked up at them with entreaty and burst into a torrent of tears.
'Oh, bloody hell!' Tarma repeated.
When they finally got the girl calmed down enough to speak, what she told them had them both incensed. The great 'hero' was not to be denied anything, by Lord Havirn's orders -- except, of course, the lord's daughter. That must wait until they were properly wedded. That he need not languish out of want, however, the innkeeper had been ordered to supply him with a woman, should he want one.
Naturally, he wanted one. Unfortunately, the lady who usually catered to that sort of need was 'inconvenienced' with her moon-days. So rather than pay the fee of an outside professional, the innkeeper had sent up the chambermaid, Fallan -- without bothering to tell her why she was being sent.
'--'m a good girl, m'lady. I didna understand 'im at first; thought 'e wanted another bath or somesuch. But 'e grabbed me 'fore I knew what 'e was about. An' 'e tore me clothes, them as took me a month's wages. An 'e-'e-' another spate of tears ensued. ' 'E was mortal cruel, m'lady. 'E-when I didna please 'im, 'e beat me. An' when 'e was done, 'e threw me clothes at me, an' 'e yelled for me master, an' tol' 'im I was no bloody good, an' what did 'e think 'e was about, anyway givin' 'im goods that was neither ripe nor green? Then me master, 'e-'e- turned me off! Tol' me t' make meself vanish, or 'e'd beat me 'imself!'
'He did what?' Tarma was having trouble following the girl, what with her thick accent and Tarma's own rising anger.
'He discharged her. The bastard sent her up to be raped, then has the bloody almighty gall to throw her out afterward!' Kethry was holding onto her own temper by the thinnest of threads.
' Ve got nowhere to go, no references -- what 'm I going to do?' the girl moaned, hugging her knees to her chest, still plainly dazed.
'She'enedra, get the brandy. I'll put her in my bed, you and I can sleep double,' Kethry said in an undertone. 'Child, worry about it in the morning. Here -- drink this.'
'I can't go back 'ome -- they 'aven't got the means to feed the childer still too little to look for work,' she continued in a monotone. 'I bain't virgin for two years now, but I been as good as I could be. I bain't no lightskirt. All I ever wanted was t' put by enough for a dower -- maybe find some carter, some manservant willin' t' overlook things; have a few childer of me own.' She was obviously not used to hard liquor; the brandy took hold of her very quickly. She mumbled on for a bit longer, then collapsed in Kethry's bed and fell asleep.
'I'd like to skewer this damned innkeeper,' Tarma growled.
Kethry, who'd been checking the girl for hurts, looked up with a glower matching Tarma's. 'That makes two of us. Just because the girl's no virgin is no excuse for what he did -- and then to turn her out afterward--' Tarma could see her hands were trembling with controlled rage. 'Come look at this.'
'Ungentle' was a distinct understatement for the way the girl had been mauled about. She was bruised from knee to neck, ugly, purple things. Kethry took Need from beneath the bed and placed it beside her, then covered her with the blankets again.
'Well, that will take care of the physical problems -- but what about the bruising of her spirit?'
'I don't have any answers for you,' Kethry sighed, rage slowly cooling. 'But, you know, from the way she talked, it isn't the rape that bothers her so much as the fact that she's been turned out. What we really need to do is find her somewhere to go.'
'Bloody hell. And us knowing not a soul here. Well -- let's worry about it in the morning.'
