'Ahem!' Freelorn said. 'Uh, yes, maybe you can. We're interested in staying the night—'
'Just interested?' she asked, raising an eyebrow. 'You're not sure? — Is it a money problem?'
'Well, lady, not really,' Herewiss began, still gazing at her with open admiration. Oh my, he was thinking, I never gave much thought to having more than one loved at a time -but I might start thinking about it now. She's like a tree, she just radiates strength — but she's got flowers, too—
She looked back at him, a measuring glance, a look of calm assessment, and then smiled again. It was like day breaking. 'It's been a long time since anyone was here,' she said. 'Let's take it out in trade. If you're agreeable, let one of you share with me tonight, and we'll call it even. You're leaving tomorrow, I take it—'
They nodded assent.
'Then it's settled. Go on in, make yourselves comfortable. Two tubrooms on the ground floor if anyone wants a bath— I'll help with the water after I've taken care of your horses. Dinner's two hours before sunset. Go on, then!' she said, laughing, stepping down from the doorstep and shooing them like chickens. Bemused, Freelorn and his people started going inside.
Herewiss turned to lead Sunspark toward the stable. 'No, no,' said the lady innkeeper, coming up beside him and reaching across Herewiss to take the reins.
'Uh, he's a little — I'd better—' Herewiss started to say, watching in horror as Sunspark suddenly lifted a hoof to stomp on the lady's foot.
'It's quite all right,' the lady said, and hit Sunspark a sharp blow on the nose with her left fist. The elemental danced back a step or so, its eyes wide with surprise.
The lady smiled brightly at Herewiss. 'I love horses,' she said, and led Sunspark away.
(Be nice!) Herewiss said.
(I think I'd better,) Sunspark replied, still surprised.
Herewiss followed the others inside and found them standing in a tight group in the middle of the cool dark common room, all talking at once. 'All right, all right!!' Freelorn yelled over the din. 'There is no way to arbitrate this; we'll have to choose up for the chance.'
'How about a fast game of Blade-on-the-Table?' Dritt said.
'The Dark it would be fast — it would need six elimination hands, and I want my bath now. Besides, you cheat at cards. It'll—'
'I do nor!'
'—have to be lots. Look, there's kindling over there, and some twigs; we'll draw sticks for it.'
'Fine,' Moris said darkly, 'and who holds the sticks?'
'I'm the only one I trust not to gimmick the draw, so—'
This observation was greeted with hoots of skepticism. 'What about me, Lorn?' Herewiss said. Freelorn looked at him with an expression close to dismay.
'You're right,' he said. 'Go ahead, give them to him -he's got an honest streak.'
Herewiss received the twigs and spent a few moments snapping them to equal lengths, all but one, which he broke off shorter. He turned back to the others. 'Here.'
Freelorn chose first, and made an irritated face; his was long. 'The river I didn't mind losing so much,' he said, 'but this- aagh!'
Dritt chose next, and came up long also, as did Moris and Lang after him. Then Segnbora chose.
'Dammit-to-Darkness,' Freelorn said, with immense chagrin. 'Well, give her our best.'
Segnbora smiled, tossed the short stick over her shoulder for luck, picked up her saddlebags from the floor, and headed up the stairs to find herself a room. 'See you at dinner,' she said.
'That could have been me,' said Harald softly. 'If I'd just gone ahead of her . . .'He followed Segnbora up the stairs.
Moris and Dritt went away, muttering, to raid the kitchen.
Lang kicked a chair irritably and went outside.
'I wish it had been me,' Freelorn said quietly.
'You're not alone,' Herewiss put an arm around him, hugging him. 'But, Lorn — how long has it been since we had a bath together?'
Freelorn regarded Herewiss out of the corner of his eye. 'Years,' he said, smiling mischievously. 'Though of course you remember what happened the last time—'
'Gee, I'm not sure, it was so long ago—'
'C'mon,' Freelorn said, 'let's go refresh your memory.'
Everyone who had good clothes to wear, or at least clean ones, wore them to dinner that night. They sat around the big oaken table down in the common room and admired one another openly in the candlelight. Herewiss wore the Phoenix surcoat, and Freelorn beside him wore a plain black one, still grumbling softly over the loss of his good Lion surcoat with the silver on it. Lang and Harald wore plain dark shirts with the White Eagle badge over the heart, for they had been queen's men at the Court in Darthis before taking up with Freelorn. Dritt wore a white peasant's shirt bright with embroidery around the sleeves and collar, a farmer's festival wear; while Moris beside him looked dark and noble in the deep brown surcoat of the North Arlene principality. Segnbora, down at the end of the table, was wearing a long black robe belted at the waist and emblazoned on one breast with a lion and upraised sword — the differenced arms of a cadet branch of one of the Forty Noble Houses of Darthen.
The food did justice to the festive dress. Dinner was cold eggs deviled with pepper and marigold leaves, roast goose in a sour sauce of lemons and sorrel, potatoes roasted in butter, and winter apples in thickened cream. Moris made a lot of noise about the eggs and the goose, claiming that the powerful spices and sours of Steldene cooking gave him heartburn; but this did not seem to affect the speed with which he ate. There also seemed to be an endless supply of wine, which the company didn't let go to waste.
Once the food was served, the innkeeper took off her apron, sat down at the head of the table, and ate with them. In some ways she seemed a rather private person; she still had not told them her name. This was common enough practice in the Kingdoms, and her guests respected her privacy. But when she spoke it became obvious that she was a fine conversationalist, possessed of a dry wit of which Herewiss found himself in envy.
She seemed most interested in hearing her guests talk, though, and was eager for news of the Kingdoms. One by one they gave her all the news they could remember: how the new queen was doing in Arlen, the border problem with Cillmod, the great convocation of Dragons and Marchwarders at the Eorlhowe in North Arlen, the postponement of the Opening Night feast in Britfell fields . . .
'Opening Night,' the innkeeper said, sitting back in her chair with her winecup in hand. 'Four months ago, that would have been. And the queen would have held the feast all by herself, without any Arlene heir in attendance, as her father did while he was still alive?'
'Evidently,' Freelorn said. Herewiss glanced at Lorn, watching him take a long, long swig of wine. There was nervousness in the gesture.
'Yet they say that the Lion's Child is still abroad somewhere,' said the lady. 'It's strange, surely, that he never came forward in all that time to partake of the Feast, even secretly. It's one of the most important parts of the royal bindings that keep the Shadow at bay, and the Two Lands from famine.'
'I hear he did show up at the Feast once,' Freelorn said. 'Three years ago, I think. He just barely got away with his life.'
Herewiss had all he could do to hold still. So that's where he was that winter—! And that's where he got that swordcut that took so long to heal! 'Robbers,' indeed—
'—Cillmod had slipped some spies in among the Darthene regulars that went south with the king,' Freelorn was saying. 'The king and the Lion's Child had just gotten to the part of the Feast where royal blood is shed, when they both almost had all their blood shed for them. The king's bodyguards killed the attackers — but Darthen was wounded, and as for Arlen—' Freelorn shrugged. 'Once burned, twice shy. No-one has seen him at a Feast since. Nor did the king ask again. Evidently, Goddess rest him, he wanted to live out the year or so left him in peace, without bringing Arlen's assassins down on his own head. What the new queen will do—' And Freelorn took another long drink.