“Seems like it.” He started toward the door. “I have to imagine he’d be stupid to stay considering it sounded like Modgudr knows exactly who he is.”
Erik opened the door and let out a frightened bark, jumping back when he saw the custodian standing in front of him. He exhaled, the surprise fading as his brain realized there was no threat.
“Jesus fucking… What?”
The tiny man looked at him with no discernible expression which only served to annoy Erik all the more.
“I have come to guide you through the many, winding halls of the Grand Keep, that you may find the courtyard in good time.”
The custodian began walking without any prompting or a suggestion that they follow and his pace was far more brisk than it had been the night before. They were shown through to the courtyard and pointed in the vague direction of the entertainment district. The doors were then promptly shut behind them.
“I have no idea if I feel welcome or not.”
Tove looked at the doors and then to Erik, giving a half-shrug. “Does it matter so much?”
Erik started across the court, guards looking at all three of them as they passed. “I guess not. I’d like to avoid a fight if at all possible and knowing where you stand is pretty important in that kind of thing.”
The looks from the guards were as awed and welcoming as they had been the night before, a few of the men even going so far as to offer the shield salute that he’d seen given only to Ásví prior to his arrival in Gjallarbrú. Modgudr had been well-informed and spoken of rumors circulating about him. It wasn’t something Erik had expected and even though the rumors had been positive in general, there was a discomfort in having strangers know things you hadn’t told them.
The edge of the entertainment district granted him some level of anonymity, at least. The clothes seemed to draw looks and the ready cooing of women in windowed stalls at brothels. They must have been fine clothing for the city as he’d seen only a few other people wearing the style. Most still ignored him, either because he walked with women already or because they recognized Göll’s armor as belonging to a valkyrie. Even here, where he was welcomed as a chosen, the expressions of men changed when their eyes first landed on Göll.
There seemed to be no meaning in the layout to the district that Erik could discern. Blocky streets with no structure in the way businesses were clustered. They’d wandered the streets for a half hour when Erik finally grew bored of the aimless search and stopped a man walking by.
“Where’s the, uh…” He’d forgotten the name of the inn.
Tove spoke up. “Calf’s Head Inn.”
The man scoffed. “There’s nicer places for a bed, mister.”
“I’m looking for someone.”
The man laughed. “Ljunge, is it?”
Erik cocked his head to the side. “Yeah, he a popular guy?”
“That’s a word for it.” The man pointed back down the street he’d come from. “Five, six streets down, take a left. You’ll see it. Sign like a calf’s head, if you can believe. Should be able to see it from either side.”
Erik looked down the street. “Thanks.”
The man nodded in response and left them there. The walk was a short one and the inn was where the man had described it being, though the signs were more run down than Erik had expected. They hadn’t been recently cleaned or repainted like many of the others in the district around them. There were windows around most of the bottom of the inn, dirty like the sign. Glass was no longer a rarity, it seemed, though the stuff in most windows was thick, wavy, and usually contained at least a single bubble of air.
Erik pushed the door open and found himself in a small tavern that matched the exterior in its disrepair. Old tables, rickety chairs, and a dearth of lighting meant the unclean windows had to do the bulk of the work. Tove and Göll followed him in and the smile the tavernkeep had given him quickly faded when he saw that a valkyrie was in his establishment.
The man did not move from behind the bar, looking over at Erik, scowling. “What d’you want then? I know t’ain’t drink so be savin’ me time and come out with it.”
It was an honest reaction, at least, and Erik couldn’t fault him for that.
“I’m looking for a man called—”
“Never ‘eard of ‘im. Leave.”
That was a bit too honest for Erik’s liking. “Look, this doesn’t have to be weird. You can just tell me where Ljunge is and I can just go.”
“I said—”
“Alvar!” A smooth voice called down the stairs and the sound of footsteps followed it. “I’ve told you there’s no sense in covering for me. I welcome all guests!”
A man with medium-length brown hair, held back in a tie, looked over to Erik as he came down the stairs. He had a few days’ stubble and wore a wide, toothy smile.
“Especially a guest who’s come with some beautiful women.” He finished the short descent and walked toward them, coming to a stop a few feet away.
“You’re Ljunge?”
“I am.” His eyes were on Tove entirely even as he answered Erik’s question. “Who are these lovely women? And why have you come seeking a visit with me? A man of your fine status, I can imagine only a few reasons.”
He pointed at Tove and Göll in turn. “Tove, Göll.”
“Göll, a… name… it seems familiar to me. No matter, carry on.”
“Sure. I don’t really have any interest in dragging this out. Modgudr told me to bring you in.”
Ljunge nodded, putting a hand under his chin. “Hm, right. Modgudr…” He turned and ran.
“God damnit!”
Erik started after the fleeing man, but he was through the door and had slammed it shut by the time Erik got to the far side of the inn. The latch shuddered, taking him
