“Not exactly,” Amelia said. “I’ve never been much of a beer drinker.” She looked up at the barmaid. “Can I just get something with a mild flavor?”
“Certainly. In that case, allow me to recommend our Mount Agony Stream Pale Ale. It has a smooth texture and a mild hoppy flavor.”
“That sounds, uh, lovely,” Amelia said. Her voice sounded somewhat skeptical. The name of the ale surprised me a bit too, but Amelia didn’t say anything else as the barmaid scrawled on her wax tablet again.
The barmaid looked at me. “And for you, sir?”
I didn’t want one of the high strength beers. I knew I needed to stay alert in this town, especially with Jacques sitting nearby. Who knew what might take place?
I’d always been more of an ale drinker myself, and I liked a good strong flavor, but I didn’t need to prove myself by ordering the darkest flavor like some men did.
“I’ll have an amber ale, please,” I said.
“That’ll be the Dragon’s Breath Ale,” the barmaid said. “An excellent choice.”
I looked over at Veronica, and she smiled. “I see your taste is as good as mine,” she said.
So she liked the same beer as me. That definitely was an attractive quality. I smiled back, and she held my look for a moment. Her gaze was warm and friendly. I was beginning to feel that the haughty noblewoman was only one aspect of Veronica’s character, and that there might be a gentler and more vulnerable person underneath.
“I’ll bring your drinks right over,” the barmaid said. “The kitchen will be open in half an hour. I’ll be back to take your orders for dinner then.”
“Thank you.” I smiled at her as she turned to leave.
I looked back to Veronica. “The service here is pretty great, right?”
Veronica laughed. “What sort of backwater do you come from? Not used to table service?”
“I, uh, I guess the taverns in Aranor are just busier than this place.” I wasn’t sure why I felt defensive about those taverns; they weren’t exactly that nice. I could definitely get used to an establishment like this one.
The barmaid returned a minute later and placed our mugs in front of us, foam cresting at the top of each jug. The mugs looked strong, and I figured they needed to be, to survive the brawls in this place. If the sign at the door had been anything to go by, the tavern’s present calm atmosphere could change at any moment.
Thinking about the sign reminded me of a question I had. “Excuse me,” I said as the barmaid was walking away.
She looked at me. “Yes? Did you not like the amber ale?”
“It’s not that. I wanted to ask about the sign. The one at the entrance.”
A frown darkened her pretty face. “There are no exceptions. The Mistress of the tavern is very strict about keeping to the rules.”
I laughed. “I don’t want to break any of the rules. I just want some clarification. What does it mean when it refers to seeing the staff at the bar if we have minor injuries?”
“Oh that,” she replied, her expression lightening again. “The Mistress can heal minor injuries.”
“Really? How does she do that?” I asked. There were likely two potential answers: she was a herbalist of some kind, or a mage.
“I’m not sure exactly,” the barmaid replied. “She has some Nature magic; you would have to ask yourself for more information. Will that be all?”
“Yes, that’s all, thank you,” I said.
So, it sounded like the Mistress was a Mage and not a herbalist. My current experience with Mages was limited to a single woman—Veronica—so I figured I could ask the Mistress more about her magic later. For now, it was time to try the beer.
Amelia raised her mug and eyed the layer of foam on top of her beer suspiciously. She brought it to her face and sniffed it. I stifled a laugh. Veronica didn’t stifle hers.
I held up my beer, as did Veronica.
“To your health,” I said.
“To your health,” Veronica said. We clinked our mugs together.
Amelia clinked hers against ours as well. “To you, William. The last Ink Mage,” she said.
Veronica smiled. “To being an Ink Mage.”
“Thank you,” I said.
“To being a Rune Sorcerer,” Amelia said, and she winked coyly at Veronica.
“May you prosper and bring us success in battle,” Veronica added, a little bashfully given Amelia’s toast.
I hadn’t heard that one before, but it sounded good to me.
We each raised our beers and took a good swallow. I got a face full of foam before getting a mouthful of beer. The Dragon’s Breath Ale was delicious. The flavor was full-bodied without being overly fruity. It was fresh and soothing on my dry throat.
Veronica and I both looked at Amelia as she lowered her mug. She wiped the beer mustache away from her top lip.
“Well, do you like it?” Veronica asked me. She looked eager, as if she were asking about something she’d prepared herself.
“It’s excellent,” I answered. “Exactly to my taste.”
Veronica looked pleased and met my eyes again as she took another deep draught from her mug. “And how’s yours, Amelia, the… what was it called?”
“Mount Agony Stream,” said Amelia with satisfaction. “I do like it, very much, actually. It tastes amazing. To be honest, I wasn’t expecting to. I’ve never really drunk beer before. There wasn’t much opportunity for that kind of thing back in Astros.” She raised her glass and took another long swallow. “I’m glad that Brightwater ale is my first experience of beer.”
“I second that,” I said. “The beer in Brightwater is incredible.”
“Now you see why the folk here raised a temple to it,” Veronica said.
We all laughed.
A chorus of angry curses came from the booth near us, and I looked over as Jacques half rose from the table, pocketing a pile of coins as he did so.
His companions were an ugly, angry-looking lot. There were three of them, and all showed signs of being too used to fighting. One wore an eyepatch, and one had a red nose
