The Pilgrims

35

The first building they came to did appear to be an inn. It was built like a large wooden cottage, two storeys, a sign out front with a painted bed, spoon and plate. All up and down a narrow side road running off the main one were several such buildings, perhaps with enough total beds to house a large army patrol. There was a smell of hay from nearby stables. Only a couple of the buildings had lights on, all the others appeared to be locked up. No people walked the street and there was eerie quiet. ‘Everyone’s hiding,’ said Case.

‘They might have heard the war mage and put out their lights,’ said Eric. In truth he feared walking into one of these buildings and finding a scene similar to the hunters’ hall, and it took more courage than he let on to go inside. As planned, Case donned the charm and followed him closely, trying to keep his footsteps in sync so they weren’t heard. The inn’s lower floor was a dimly lit tavern with round wooden tables and booths, deserted but for a girl wiping the bar and a pair of men, dressed in dark robes like druids, having a secretive discussion over cups of mead.

The girl stopped wiping tables and peered in utter bewilderment at Eric’s shoes, business shirt and slacks. She had the peculiar look of heavily Asian features with blonde hair and very pale skin. She seemed unsure whether hostility or reverence was required. The two druid-types also turned to stare, and kept staring at him, clearly unnerved, as though Eric were some kind of omen. ‘Your need?’ the girl demanded.

‘A meal, a bed. Two meals, if possible. I’m very hungry.’ Case pushed the scales into Eric’s pocket.

‘Where from?’ said the girl. ‘What city?’

‘I have no city.’

Wrong answer. The girl backed away, eyes wide with fright. ‘There are rules here. We follow them. What city?’

‘What’s the name of a city?’ Eric whispered behind his hand.

‘Trying to think, give me a sec,’ Case whispered back. ‘Esk! Esk’s one. They kept talking about swords from Esk, remember?’

‘I’m from Esk,’ Eric said to the girl.

She looked dubious, but approached him with a hand out for payment. He showed her a red scale, and her face lit up with wonder. She curtsied. ‘Good sir! I’ll fetch your meals. Your room’s second door, upstairs.’

‘Ale, too, if you please. Two mugs.’ She nodded and bustled away.

‘Damn it,’ Eric muttered, taking a seat by a window, out of view of the two strange men, who had gaped in disbelief on sight of the red scale.

‘What is it?’ said Case.

‘See how she reacted? The scale’s way too much payment. And keep an eye on those creepy guys. They might want to see if I’ve got any more of them in my pocket.’

The girl wasn’t long with the drinks, but food took a painful time longer. Eric felt the strange-tasting ale go to his head very quickly after the long day’s walk. He reflected that he could feel the softer edges being chipped off himself and hardened with each new day here. He had never been comfortable around hard men, biker types, gang types or even cops. Now he knew what death looked like, knew it was real, and could feel a change coming which there was no choice but to welcome, since it was needed.

The serving girl brought two more full cups without being asked. Case sipped from his discreetly, trying to hide its movements. If he clutched the cup for a little while, it fell under the charm’s influence, and vanished until he let it go.

A strongly built man in a kitchen apron, resembling the girl enough to be her father, finally brought out two steaming plates. Leeks, potatoes and slices of meat were piled on it. It looked fairly plain fare but Eric had never been more glad to see such in his life. ‘Good sir,’ said the man with exaggerated politeness, bowing. He eyed the two half-finished cups for a moment. ‘We’ve had issue with your scale.’

‘It’s real, I assure you.’

The man chuckled. ‘No question there! My heaviest cudgel won’t break it. But I’ve not enough gold in shop to exchange it fairly. None, in fact. Have you coin or other means?’

‘I don’t.’ And I think you probably know it.

‘Then I’m afraid you’ll be paying too much for your room.’

‘Exchange it as fairly as you can,’ Eric said. ‘I’ll take as fair a trade as you can manage.’

The innkeeper nodded, departed, and returned with a small tied bag of coins, which he dropped on the table. ‘Best I can do, good sir.’

Eric examined the flat copper and silver discs with no idea of their worth, but he made a show of his disappointment. ‘Some provisions for the road as well, perhaps?’

‘Aye, in the morning if you like. Not many pay for rooms at an inn with scales, as you’d know. Strange accent you have. Esk, is it?’

‘Yes.’

‘Long way to come on foot.’

‘I know that much very well.’

‘You have no gear with you.’

‘I did, until recently.’

The man nodded, though his look was hard to read. ‘So you know, a patrol comes through tomorrow, and all beds are taken.’

Eric nodded as though this were no problem, but cursed inside; he’d hoped for a few days’ rest. When the innkeeper departed, Case whispered, ‘He doesn’t trust you. See the way he looked at the two plates, two cups? He smells a rat, wants us out with no trouble. Bet there’s no patrol coming tomorrow at all. He might’ve said that to see if you’ll bolt, see if you’re a fugitive. We better be careful here. Take it easy with that drink. Might have to think fast.’

They devoured their meal and their ales without speaking. The meat was of a kind neither of them had tasted before, apparently one of the native species, salty and tender, smothered thick in gravy. Eric ordered two more ales and let Case drink both.

The upstairs room was tiny, but had a sizeable bed with a straw mattress. ‘I’ll take a different room,’ said Case. ‘There’s plenty, all vacant. You keep the gun since I got the charm. They won’t see me in the beds.’

‘Hope you don’t snore,’ said Eric.

‘Hope I don’t piss the bed, too, but I just might.’ His footsteps padded away.

Eric had just lain down and deemed this scratchy dust-smelling excuse for a bed the most comfortable in all creation, when again came the war mage’s shriek, not far distant. A minute passed before it came again, closer, as though it had just passed over the very roof of the inn, and was speaking to him personally. Then there was silence. ‘Good night to you too,’ Eric whispered, setting the gun within reach as he sank into sleep.

The quiet sound of a familiar high-pitched, maddening laugh was what woke him, not the daylight. He might otherwise have slept for the whole day.

Kiown sat cross-legged on the bed by his feet, head tilted so his cone of red hair drooped down to the right, fists pressed to his chin. ‘Good morning to you,’ he said, head bobbing to accentuate each word like a whistling bird. ‘Mmmm! You have come so far, Eric of Otherworld, brave worthy Eric, inn-finder, roadwalker, magpie-slayer!’

Eric thought he was still dreaming. He glanced at where the gun lay hidden by his discarded shirt. ‘What are you doing here? How’d you find us?’

‘I stayed here last night,’ said Kiown. ‘Must have just missed you downstairs! Quite a coincidence. Or … is it?’ He cackled.

‘Is Anfen here, too?’

‘Nope! Which is curious. Because, although he isn’t, you are. And I thought we’d all agreed you were Anfen’s property. He must have a hole in his pocket!’

‘I’ll explain what happened. Just let me wake up first.’

‘I know some of what happened to you. But first, that black scale. Still got it? Do I ever have an offer for you.’

‘Loup has it,’ said Eric. He affected disappointment, remembering how Kiown had drooled at the sight of it back at the hilltop.

Kiown cursed. ‘That old fraud. And they all thought I was the shifty one. Oh well.’

‘Magpie-slayer, you said. How did you know about that?’

Kiown’s mouth hung open. ‘Wait wait, I was joking! As if you would have killed it, I thought. Not my timid Otherworld prince who goes pale at the sight of blood. You’re serious? You’re the one who killed it?’

‘I just hurt it. Anfen killed it.’

Kiown peered at him closely. ‘I somehow don’t think you’re lying! What a strange tale. Magpies aren’t easy to kill. Perhaps I’d better be careful of you, O Eric, inn-finder.’

‘Why should you need to be?’

‘Extremely good point. You understand this means you’re Marked? Don’t worry. We are probably too far south for them, approaching country where people think they don’t even exist. I suppose we had better trade stories. Who goes first?’

‘You, please.’

‘Very well. After the company split, we got wiped out half a day south-west of Faul’s place. We stuck to the road, which was, in retrospect, most unwise. As if the patrols will range this wide, I thought to myself. Sure enough, patrol found us, took us out in a mountain pass just like the one near the hilltop. I fled like a coward. Wise coward, however. I was supposed to be in charge, and I did yell “flee”. But they had battle fever.’ He sighed, face downcast. Eric, however, found that most emotions Kiown expressed — apart from anger — rang faintly theatrical, as though he performed them for his own delight like someone before a mirror. He said in a lowered voice, ‘All was lost and there was no way through. Heavy infantry blocked the road with archers behind them. They fired at Doon, which made him pissed. You seen heavy infantry? There were none at the hilltop. Armour, big heavy armour. Their job on a battlefield is pretty much to get in the way. Almost too weighed down to be dangerous, but you sure as fuck can’t kill em. Guess what Doon did?’

‘No idea.’

‘Killed em. You remember our friend the half-giant? Stomped through em all, knocked em scattering. Not pretty to watch. One poor clod, Doon slammed down a foot on his chest, and blood gushed out the visor of his helm. That’s what it means, to be stomped by Doon. But the archers in the back, they just kept filling him with arrows. Rest of us too. Arrow stuck me like a fork into mutton. See?’ Kiown lifted a sleeve of his shirt, where thick bandages showed old blood.

‘You should probably change that dressing.’

‘I’m kind of proud of the blood, to be honest. Looks good for the ladies. Lucky the arrow ricocheted off someone else and hit me weak. Serrated arrows! Ouch. I cried, honestly cried.’

‘Then what? You caught up with Anfen and he sent you to find us?’

‘Patience, patience. Even after Doon trampled half their infantry, there was no way to reach the archers behind em. So what’d I do? I fled. Say what you will. The others kept trying to get at the archers, even after I yelled retreat. Idiots. And when Doon gets in that mood, he sure doesn’t take orders. But he was only ever going to make a dent in them before they got him. Just a few too many foes, this time.’

‘What happened to him in the end?’

Kiown sighed. ‘Last time I looked back, he was busy stomping his way to happiness. But they sure had a lot of arrows in him by then. A lot. And they were drawing back those shitty little standard-issue crossbows to fire another round.’ Kiown was quiet for a moment, staring out the window. ‘No other way to go but through that mountain pass. Somewhere along the way, they knew we were coming, and knew to wait there. Anfen shouldn’t have split us up, if I may be ever so briefly critical of His Perfection.’ He sighed and was quiet for a while. ‘Such is war. Valour return him. Now. Your turn.’

Eric told Kiown what had happened, though he didn’t mention the gun.

‘Mmm, I see,’ said Kiown when Eric had finished. ‘Or I think so. I guessed Anfen would be at Faul’s still, waiting for the patrols to die down. I’d hoped to come back and meet you all, but just missed you. I did not know the woods I travelled through were full of monsters, however. Inferno cultists, yes, and ghosts. Not monsters.’

‘How was it at Faul’s, when you arrived?’

‘Faul was pissed,’ said Kiown, shrugging. ‘And that is not nice to behold. Worse than Doon almost, with those big teeth of hers. It was not time to impart grim news of her nephew. She chased me away as it was. She never liked me much. But I saw the magpie’s body, and went “aha!” inside. She was digging a grave for it, her and that weird husband of hers dressed in mourning garb and everything. That pair are funny in the skull — it’s a magpie, I mean come on. I bet they didn’t even loot it for trinkets. She wouldn’t say which way you’d all gone. I had to guess from tracks but they were hard to read. Guess I followed yours, not Anfen’s.’

‘Lucky you found us here,’ said Eric, wondering at the source of the apprehension he suddenly felt. Was it the feeling of being captive again — ‘property’ of Anfen’s band?

Kiown shrugged. ‘Only lucky I decided to stay at this inn, rather than camp off road. I was always going to travel the same way you had. Basically one road leads past Faul’s, from River City through to Hane. These inns are the only place for a long way to spend the night under a roof. It has been a long while since I had a bed. On the off-chance, I asked the girl downstairs if any strangers had passed through. Didn’t expect her to say yes. For a coin, she described you. Didn’t ask her what she’d do for ten coins, but I bet it’s coin well spent, with that pretty mouth of hers. Mmmm. She found you most peculiar indeed. You also scared off their only other two customers, Nightmare cultists. If you can scare Nightmare cultists, you have done well.’

‘Hane is a city, I take it.’

The cone of red hair bobbed to and fro. ‘Aligned. Pretty newly Aligned, so it’s freer than the others, but getting worse. We may be able to get in and out, still. Most people aren’t able to leave, but I got contacts there … or I did. Been a while since I was there. We’ll scout it out. In a way, it’s good we’re not with Anfen. We’d be a lot less free to travel if we were. They’re putting up road signs with his likeness, and posting rewards. Serious business!’

And no thanks to you, right? But you seem cheerful enough, Eric thought. Aloud, he said, ‘Where are we headed, then? You’re our guide, it’d seem.’

‘And I work cheap! We’ll meet Anfen. He’s off to the council of Free Cities over in Elvury. We’ll stop in Hane, grab supplies and get you some more normal-looking clothes, so you don’t stand out so much.’ Kiown stood. ‘The girl downstairs said you paid with a red scale! Tut tut, what a waste. But believe me, that’ll cover our breakfast, and they can serve it with a song and a kiss, for what you’ve put in their safe. Where’s your grandpa?’

The door creaked open. ‘He’s right here,’ said Case, his footsteps padding in. ‘And he didn’t piss the bed.’

‘Then we shall celebrate,’ said Kiown.

Downstairs they had eggs and sausage, the innkeeper stacking food high on their plates, apparently mindful he’d been hugely overpaid for the room. ‘Don’t believe him either,’ Kiown muttered. ‘He’s got plenty of gold in the safe for an exchange. No matter. I’ll be back through here and I’ll rob the bastard. I’ve robbed this place before.’

‘Got away with it?’ said Case, who sat hidden by the charm necklace.

‘Sure did. They thought their help had done it. Hanged someone for it. I didn’t mean that. Dragon’s will, eh?’ He laughed. ‘Got a tidy sum of gold, even pissed in their ale barrel. Customers commented on the tang and drank it down in record time.’ Kiown downed his cup of mead in one long pull, spilling much down his shirt, then slammed it down, screaming obscenely across the room for another.

‘Pipe down,’ Case muttered. ‘One thing I learned in life, don’t ever mess with the people preparing your food.’

‘Good point,’ said Eric. ‘The innkeeper’s packing us supplies for the road. Or he was. We should stay in his good graces.’

Kiown waved this away. ‘They respect a rowdy drinker in these parts. First thing in the morning, even better.’

The innkeeper emerged with two small sacks, filled with bread, fruit, blocks of hard cheese, jerky and salted meats. ‘Patrol’s through soon,’ he said quietly. His eyes said it quite clearly: You are hereby invited to get the fuck out.

Kiown looked in the sacks. ‘I see you’ve disposed of your spoiling food! Here’s a thought. Get your scaly hide back in that kitchen and get us some fresh stuff for the road. I want two more sacks at least as full as this one. An old cook-fire pan while you’re at it. And when you get back here you can do a little dance for my amusement. And by the way: you are an ugly, ugly man.’

The innkeeper said nothing, but did indeed return to the kitchen. ‘Enjoy that?’ said Kiown. ‘Scaly hide? Hint, hint. He knows it too, the dirty thief.’

‘This food looks OK to me,’ said Eric. ‘Bread, fruit, meat. Even skins of water.’

‘It’s fine, but he can do better than that for a red scale.’

The innkeeper returned with another sack and dumped it heavily on the table, but behind it was a long knife. Very quickly it was at Kiown’s throat. The man snarled, ‘I hope these supplies are more to your liking, good sir. As requested, an old cook-fire pan in there too. Now enjoy guessing which of these food items were rubbed against the rat dead of poison overnight in my kitchen. The foam on its mouth was green. Get out.’

Behind the innkeeper’s shoulder, his daughter stood with a crossbow braced on her forearm, aimed at Eric. Kiown’s hand had found his sword hilt, but he weighed things up, smiled and said, ‘And thank you, tavern master, for breakfast. My meat was a touch overcooked, but only a touch.’

The innkeeper backed away, knife still at the ready. Kiown stood, and looked to weigh things up again. ‘Don’t do it,’ Eric said nervously. The innkeeper’s daughter had followed him with the crossbow.

‘Wise,’ said the innkeeper. ‘She’s a fine shot. You’d be her second this month. Now. I’ll forget you, should the patrol ask of wayfaring travellers. In return, you forget me, if you start to pine for that scale.’

‘Haven’t you done a handy day’s trade,’ said Kiown pleasantly, twitching fingers the only indication of his rage.

‘I know my business,’ said the innkeeper, a glint of humour in his eye. ‘And I’d be careful paying your way with scales. No one has done so in this country since my grandfather’s day, and I hear a castle wagon train was robbed. A grand mystery, that. Swift travels t’you.’