sitting near the fire slept in his chair, his head lolled to one side and his hand still holding a mug of ale. In a darkened corner, another man sat silently, and Catrin thought his gaze a bit too direct. She noted his presence but refused to look directly at him again, and whenever she cast him a sidelong glance, he seemed to be appraising her.
A rotund woman emerged from the kitchens and made her own appraisal of Catrin and her companions. She wrinkled her nose at their filthy appearance, making Catrin self-conscious. The woman, who was obviously the keeper of the First Inn, simply shrugged. 'The baths are out back. You'll have to clean up before you can eat or lodge, agreed?'
'Yes, baths will be most welcome. We found ourselves helping a couple of monks with some rather dirty business,' Benjin replied, and the innkeeper seemed to warm to him a bit. She warmed even more when he paid her for the baths along with advance payment for a hot meal.
'I am Miss Chambril. Welcome to the First Inn. I'll send Wonk to the bathhouse with water and towels in a moment. You can leave your bags here if you wish,' she said as she walked into the kitchen. Catrin sifted through her pack in search of the soft clothes she had packed from the Trader's Wind, looking forward to being warm, dry, and in comfortable clothes. She sighed, realizing the time aboard the Wind had completely ruined her. In days gone by, she would have judged clothes by how tough or water resistant they were; now comfort was a definite consideration.
Wanting to get clean and dry as quickly as possible, she and the others hurried to the baths. Wonk turned out to be a man in his middle years, and he seemed like a pleasant sort of fellow. He brought a stack of towels on his first trip and asked if any of them needed a robe. Catrin and the others declined the offer but appreciated it nonetheless, and they were grateful when he returned with a basin of lukewarm water. He said he would be back with more, but they descended on the washbasin with intent purpose.
Catrin filled her cupped hands and splashed her face repeatedly. Each time, gray water seeped into the corners of her eyes, stinging and burning. When Wonk returned with another basin, Catrin stuck her entire face in the warmer water even before he had settled it on the stone bench. Using one of the towels, she dried her face and frowned when she saw how dirty the cloth came away. It seemed she might never get clean, but Wonk tirelessly brought fresh basins of water.
Eventually, the cold drove Catrin and the others from the baths, and they sought that warm meal. Miss Chambril did not disappoint. Bowls of steaming stew emerged from the kitchen even as they seated themselves. Catrin noted that only the sleeping man remained in the common room; the rest had apparently gone to their beds. The stew smelled fantastic, and Catrin blew on a hot spoonful, waiting less than patiently for her first taste. It was worth the wait. She tasted salty beef and tomato with onion, garlic, and celery. Large pieces of carrot were a treat, and she ate the carrots from Osbourne's stew as well.
Miss Chambril brought soft bread still warm from the oven, and they used no restraint when spreading it thick with apple butter. Catrin thought it might be the most delightful thing she had ever tasted, and she told Miss Chambril so. The innkeeper took the compliment in stride and brought them more bread and apple butter.
'What is that aroma? It smells wonderful,' Benjin asked, sniffing the air. 'Is that a brisket?'
'You've a discerning nose for such a dirty little man.'
'Could I beg a shaving or two? It'd be an honor to sample your work in progress,' he said with sincerity.
Miss Chambril visibly reappraised him. 'I suppose that would be acceptable,' she said. 'Wonk will show the rest of you to your rooms when you've finished your meal,' she continued, motioning Benjin to follow her into the kitchen. 'I don't normally let strange men into my kitchen.'
'Not to fear. I try not to make a habit of being strange in the kitchens of beautiful women,' Benjin replied.
Catrin shook her head and asked Wonk to show her to her room. He led her to a small but private room. Despite being the first one in her bed, she was awake long after the others found slumber, and somewhere between sleep and wakefulness, she thought she heard the sound of birds taking flight.
Sitting before the dwindling fire, as the shifting glow cast wandering shadows over the faces around him, Strom tried to drive the chill from his bones, but still he shivered. 'I don't know if I'll ever be warm again,' he said.
'At least we made it here,' Chase said, rubbing his hands together. 'We could still be out in the Wastes. I'm just glad to have a full belly and a dry place to sleep tonight.'
'I know I should be grateful we're here,' Osbourne said, his eyes downcast, 'but this place gives me the crawls. I feel like an outsider. You saw how that guard looked at us. I'm not sure we're welcome here.'
Benjin had been quiet for some time, seemingly content to let the others express their concerns, and he had a distant look in his eyes, as if he were reliving the past. 'It'll be all right,' he said. 'The Cathurans are a suspicious lot, and they tend to be aloof, but rarely are they cruel. Get some sleep, and things will look brighter by the light of day.'
'I hope so,' Strom said, but as he looked around, the anxiety of his companions was palpable.
'I'm going to bed,' Chase said with a wide yawn. Despite his exhaustion, Strom knew he could not sleep-not yet. Too many fears dominated his thoughts, and he stayed in front of the fire until the coals no longer provided their welcoming warmth. With little to light his way, he stumbled to his room. As he crept along the dark upper hall, he wondered at the candlelight that washed from under one of the closed doors. A chill ran down his spine as he passed the room, and he tried desperately to convince himself that his fears were unwarranted.
Chapter 8
A single act of kindness can change the world.
A jolly sort of noise brought Catrin drifting to wakefulness, but it was her nose that drew her from the comfortable bedding. She smelled bacon-bacon! The alluring aroma drew everyone from their rooms, and she soon found herself seated in the common room with her companions. A young girl served other customers, but Miss Chambril arrived at their table and served them herself.
The innkeeper didn't ask what they wanted; she simply brought plates laden with some of everything, and Catrin could not fail to notice the large cut of brisket she served Benjin. Reveling in the tastes of bacon, sausage, and cheese, no one at their table spoke a word.
One of the doors flew open and a tired-looking guard entered the common room. Catrin recognized him as the man who had searched them the night before. When he saw Benjin, he approached and went to one knee.
'A thousand apologies, sir. Mother Gwendolin wishes to see you immediately. I sincerely apologize for my insolence. I was out of line.' He stayed on one knee, his eyes downcast.
Benjin laughed and patted him on the shoulder. 'Come now, let us begin again. I'm Benjin Hawk.'
The man seemed shocked that Benjin would not use his advantage, and he accepted Benjin's hand with thinly veiled uncertainty. 'Burrel Longarm, captain of the guard, sir,' he said, seeming more sure of himself after Benjin's firm handshake.
'Please join us and sit a moment, Captain Longarm. I assume your orders are to escort us to Mother Gwendolin?' Benjin asked and Captain Longarm nodded. 'I cannot offend Miss Chambril by leaving these platters full, and we sure could use your help cleaning them if you'd be willing.' Benjin winked and motioned for him to take a seat. Captain Longarm was hesitant for a moment but then gave in to his hunger.
Benjin cut a large slice from his brisket and slid it onto the plate Catrin handed to Captain Longarm. Catrin
