The day turned even darker, and the clouds grew heavier, and we struggled to make headway all day long, despite the previous times we’d made the same trip in a half day. Soon night would fall. The temperature would plummet. Shivering took control of my entire body and wouldn’t stop. Kendra pulled up alongside me and slipped down to her feet. Her hand touched my shoulder, and I knew she understood the dangers we faced. The wind grew even stronger, we were weaker and didn’t need to waste energy to talk, even if we could. She helped me climb into her saddle, and she walked.
We reached the City Gate of the port soon after dark and rode directly to the Blue Bear Inn. Nobody was in the stable to care for the horses, so we helped the little girls to the ground, put the horses inside with food and water nearby, and closed the gate without removing their saddles. We were simply too tired. Each of us took the arm of a girl and steered them to the rear door of the inn.
CHAPTER SEVEN
T he door latch wouldn’t cooperate and open for my fumbling fingers, so I weakly beat a fist on the oak. Someone opened it, and we stumbled inside more dead than alive. Several patrons in the dining room rushed to help before we fell face first on the floor. We were placed beside the roaring fire, hot stew and warm tea were spooned into to the four of us, and heavy dry blankets were wrapped around our shoulders. More logs were tossed on the fire. Questions were asked of us, but none that had to be answered that night. At one point, I either saw or imagined the little server who couldn’t stay away from me.
Water thinned the stew, and more food was spooned into each of us. Wine and tea warmed our insides as steam rose from our wet clothing. We dried in the heat of the fireplace that held more logs, and the flames leaped higher as people talked in hushed tones about the intense storm, the worst any had ever seen at this time of the year, or any other.
“It came up so suddenly,” one woman said.
Another contributed, “There are buildings blown down, they said. Whole buildings.”
A different voice said, “At least one ship sank right here in the harbor. The sailors walked ashore to safety.”
The inn shook with the gusts, and the wind tore at it, but other than a few shivers that may have been mine, it withstood the storm. While it might seem that there were other things to think about and do, such as caring for the two little girls, my exhaustion was so great that people had to continually wake me to spoon food into me. My eyes were unseeing. My mind blank. My body had given out. If the inn had been ten more steps away, I might not have made it.
I woke in one of the tiny rooms we’d rented, on the straw bed. Beside me, wrapped around one of my legs, and curled up next to my back were three other bodies, all of us snug under four or five blankets. One was Kendra, the others were the two little girls. They were all safe. I went back to sleep.
The second time I woke was because of the shifting of one of them. I opened my eyes to find an inquisitive little face looking at mine from a handbreadth away. Her hair hung in limp brown curls, her face was filthy, and a cut over one eye had bled and dried into a dark streak. But she smiled when I met her gaze.
It was the youngest. The older one and Kendra were still asleep. She pointed to her crotch. I carefully moved the covers aside and crept to my knees. The girl and I pulled blankets around us and in the early morning light we walked lightly out the back door and headed for the three outhouses. The wind had ceased. The air had warmed to almost pleasant.
After taking care of business, we raced back to the main dining room and to the morning fire a man was fueling, where we laughed and warmed ourselves in the new flames. Several of the other guests appeared and were happy to see us. I ordered hot tea and bread with butter and jam.
“I’m Damon,” I said to her as we sat across from each other at a small table.
She smiled at me. I wet a rag and dabbed the blood from her cheek.
“What’s your name?” I asked.
She smiled some more, tilting her head from side to side as if teasing.
The bread came, and after slicing and buttering it, I asked, “Jam?”
She smiled again, shyly and completely without comprehension. For the first time, the totality of her odd appearance struck me. Dark skin, thin features, brown hair—like my own. She didn’t seem to understand my words. On impulse, I said, “Kondor?”
She smiled wider and nodded eagerly at the word.
If I guessed correctly, the girl was telling me she was from Kondor and didn’t speak our language. That raised a hundred more questions. Perhaps her older sister could speak with us.
The girl climbed down and pulled her chair around the table in order to sit beside me. Then she climbed back onto it and started eating, the two of us ignoring the smiles and warm comments from the other patrons, some of whom I recognized as helping us from the night before. For at that time, the two of us were bonding.
We ate in silence while I tried vainly to understand what was happening. Was she mute? I didn’t want to draw attention to it if that was the case. A sideways glance at her reminded me of Kendra at that age so much a lump formed in my throat. A seaman stood at another table, finished with his meal and ready to depart.
“Sir,” I called to him as a thought occurred.
“I’m no sir, I work the riggings, but what kin I do for you?” The man was thin, near forty, his beard short and wild with a tinge of gray, and his eyes merry.
Stilling my pounding heart, and not wishing to throw too much information around in a common room filled with big ears eager to hear my business, I said, “I find myself in need of a man from Kondor, one who speaks the language. Would your ship happen to have such a man?”
“We would happen to have several,” he spoke loudly for the amusement of all the diners. “Would you prefer a scoundrel, a thief, or a cutthroat?”
A few chuckles erupted. I said in a voice to match his, “Are those my only choices?”
More laughter. He said, “Well, there is one deckhand you may strike an honest deal with. Who shall I say he is to ask for?”
“Damon. Send him here this morning, if you will. If there is a cost to your ship for his absence, tell your captain I’ll pay it.”
The sailor grinned. “If I tell that to the officers on my ship, they will find a suitable charge, but if I say nothing, they will only grumble. Which is it to be?”
“My pay should go to the one you send me—and he should split it with you.”
A woman clapped her hands and giggled as if watching a puppet play. The sailor touched the brim of his hat with two fingers and departed with a smile. I spread more jam on bread, and my new little friend at my side ate it as if she’d never had a sweet before. From the adoration in her eyes, I was her new hero, then she eyed another slice of bread and pooched out her lower lip to beg for more.
To top off my day, the little redheaded waitress appeared with a pair of mugs filled with warm, fresh milk. She sat down at our table and pinched off a hunk of bread for herself. “Damon, who’s your new girlfriend?”
Now, that was a leading question if I ever heard one. I could tell her it was my daughter and I’d never see the redhead called Flame again. I could tell her she was my little sister and then the question of why we didn’t speak the same language would quickly appear and make me a liar. Admitting I didn’t know who she was seemed a better response than at first.