“We are.”
“Music to the ears.” He turned to the guards at the front. “Open ‘er up.” As they saw to the gate, he turned again to Socair. “We got two inns. One’s more a tavern with cots. Expect you’ll find more comfort at The Dry Duck, not far from the gate here. They’ve a few rooms kept nice for merchant types. Not much for shops, though. Not for folk headed north. Innkeep might be able to see to your needs there. Point you the right way, I mean.”
“You have my thanks.”
“Hoh! No need, milady. Is a pleasure to have you.”
The elf wiggled his mustache and smiled before returning to the small watch hut on her side of the road. They were waved through by one of the guards who had seen to the gate. She did not know whose men they were, but if they meant her party no trouble, she would not be one to question it.
The city was as modern as the high streets of Abhainnbaile. Well-kept, freshly painted. There were high watch towers peeking up from the edges of the city, which were equally well-built of deep grey stone that could not have come from a place nearby. The streets were largely empty, save a few bodies walking quietly toward the center of town. Socair could see it in the dim light of the morning, not too far off. A trade center, to be sure, with permanent stalls in place. Rionn pulled the carriage aside at the front of The Dry Duck.
Rionn sighed. “See to a room for me if you could. I’ll see to the carriage and horses. I expect you and Práta will have no end of talk with the serving girl. I prefer to sleep.”
Socair nodded and left the front of the carriage. She woke Práta and Nath, who had slept much of the way. With their luggage gathered, Socair saw them inside.
The opening of the door clearly woke the innkeep, a middle-aged woman with dark hair and light olive skin. She snorted and slapped her feet to the floor, but her voice was still groggy and her eyes half-shut. Socair walked to the desk with Práta behind. Nath stayed farther back, out of arm’s reach of Práta.
“Welcome… welcome to the, eh… The Dry Duck! Welcome!” She rubbed at her eyes and stood. “Awful early to see travelers. Still, you’re welcome so long as your coin is real.”
“It’s real. We need two rooms. On the larger side for at least one of them.”
“Hm.” The woman turned and grabbed a pair of keys from the wall. “One’s down the hall, other’s up stairs.”
“Which is the larger?”
“The one down the hall.”
“Then I’ll have the key for that one. Our fourth is attending to the horses. He’ll be along. Please give the key to him.”
Socair placed two gold pieces on the counter. “We will only be here the night. Keep whatever extra. And please do bring any meals to the rooms.”
The woman stared at the gold a moment before putting a key down beside it and then sliding the coins off into her hand. “As you like.”
Socair handed the key to Práta and turned back to the woman as Práta left with Nath. “We need some provisions. We’re heading north into Spéirbaile.”
“Hm, nasty business up that way.”
“Nasty?”
“Mm. Horsefolk. Small bands, if talk’s to be believed. Attacking carts and carriages alike. Never quite know when or where. What’s it you’re after? Food?”
“Warm clothing.”
“There’s a stall in the square. Old man. Tailor. He buys scraps off the traders and puts ‘em together. You might get lucky at one of the regular clothing stalls. Doubtful though.”
“My thanks.” Socair left the woman at the desk.
Horsefolk in the north. And Vód being taken. Socair thought of Abhainnbaile and how little sense her task seemed to make in the face of it. The information was of use, but surely field scouts and spies and friendly reports had already relayed this information to Deifir. Surely the hippocamps were planning something on a large scale. She must have been all over Fásachbaile as well. Briste had been less than useless when it came to information.
Socair arrived at the room to find Nath standing dutifully beside the bed as Práta went around checking the state of things.
“Nath, you needn’t stand. Rest. You’re no prisoner. You asked to be with us.”
“I…” The girl started but paused and sat on the bed. “It is hard. And I am grateful, but…” She started to cry.
“Práta, I will stay with her. There is a tailor in the square who should have ample coverings for the north. And there are clothes stalls as well. Buy her as much as you feel she will need.”
“Right.” Práta walked past Socair and grabbed her hand, giving it a squeeze. “I will return soon.”
Socair nodded and moved to the end of the bed. She looked around the room. It was simple. Nothing compared to the needless pageantry of the rooms in the Bastions she’d seen. It made her breathe a bit easier.
“What do you think of this place?”
Nath looked up at her, and then around at the room.
“I don’t…”
“I spent my life in rough places. Hard beds, if there were any to be had. Even this room makes me feel strange.”
“I don’t belong here,” Nath said, wiping her eyes and nose. “I never dreamed you would take me. You’ll be killed I’m sure. It’s what she does.”
“Do you want I should take you back?”
The girl’s eyes widened in horror.
“As I thought. Then where is it you belong?”
Nath lowered her eyes and said nothing.
“Well, you are welcome to stay with us so long as you like. I fear I could do no more than take you and offer you a place with me. Deifir may be able to help beyond that.”
Socair could see Nath’s jaw clench. The girl built her resolve and spoke.
“People… they should know what Briste is. What she’s done.”
It was all Socair could do to place a hand on the
