One thing that had been rubbed out of me in the military was allowing myself the luxury of being groggy; taking the time to gather your wits. On the battlefield, you were sleeping or you were awake, you couldn't afford to linger in between.
I had relegated myself to sleeping on the rug in the center of the room. Silah, whether she needed or not, took the bed. I was glad to allow it. The words she has said on a number of occasions up until now echoed in my head: "I am a lady, first." This put me in the frame of mine to compromise in order to keep her happy.
I woke with her looking down on me from the edge of the bed. She gave me a half smile as my eyes snapped open.
"Oh, hello." She whispered looking wistful.
I felt a rosy warmth spread through me with the greeting. A wave of adoration washed over me. I held back a smile which brought about an amused look from Silah.
I busied myself with the morning preparations while she looked on. I made the difficult decision to keep Silah sheathed, considering the goings on from last night. While it made me feel a pang of guilt, she didn't seem to mind. I met the others down in the lobby and set off to court. It was early and the roads were the foot traffic of preparation. Bakers were putting their carts in position, waiting for their loaves and sweetbreads to be delivered. Others were preparing for the morning traffic and, likely, depending on a lucrative afternoon to pay their bills.
The ferry loaded with foot and carriage traffic, filling to capacity. There was a chill in the air from the gusts through the bay, it clawed at the waterproof cloak I was wearing, tossing it around. The duster didn't afford much protection from the cold, but I set my teeth so they wouldn't chatter.
Last night had reminded me of the poor condition of my clothes. My patched grey wool breeches and the thin white shirt, acting as the only cushion between me and my well worn—and now nearly frozen—breastplate. Among those who were dressed for court, I felt like a warrior pauper. This soured my desire to join my brothers-in-arms within the walls of the castle. I begged off from the group, seeing the line that I didn't want to stand in.
Thankfully, as the sun crested, it warmed quickly. The greenery started to glow under the sun's warm touch. Well manicured trees and shrubs surrounded the castle creating a lush forest that I could lose myself in. It was a marvel, close cropped grass around old growth. I wandered freely, spending time at some of the larger trees, seeing the effect of nature's power. The trivial dealings of men seemed small when you looked to their grand stature. Ironic that those dealings were within a bowshot of where I stood.
I put my hand to one of the trunks and ran my fingers over the rough bark, feeling the might of nature.
"Hakaar!" A voice called through the trees. It was Floki, "We're heading back. It looks like we not only won the dispute, but we've also landed the contract."
I moved to meet him. I had lost track of time, the sun was well on its way skyward by this point.
"That's good to hear." I nodded, feeling detached.
"I think we can blame Sig's father for our success. He set up the meets and worked out the contracts that put all of this in place." He nodded thoughtfully, "I think things would have gone much differently if he weren't involved."
I bobbed my head back and forth.
"I think we—well, you and the others—would have worked something out."
"Probably. But this was a lot easier," He started moving away, beckoning me to follow, "Come on. We're going to celebrate."
"Celebrating? At Butterwicks?"
"Naw. A really high-end place called Chantry Ale House."
"That doesn't sound like a high-end place?" I chuckled.
"Oh, it's been around for ages. A haven for the nobles and the like."
"And we can afford this somehow?" I said, figuring I was stating the obvious.
"I'm going to pitch in. I've had some put away for a rainy day."
"Ironic, that." I looked up at the crisp blue sky, the sun now high to the East.
"Isn't it?" He agreed with a smile.
Floki and I were walking directly to Chantry over the grassy hillside and had started to converge on the Ale House before the rest. Sig's father, Ewe, had come in his alchemical coach and taken his son, Bromm, and Danin.
"He's gotten used to that thing," Floki pointed him out from a distance.
The driver expertly popped the wheels with a burst of speed around the corner, sending a flurry of sparks and startling those on foot. He weaved through the crowd effortlessly and locked the brake with a slight skid into a tight spot on the roadside. I raised an eyebrow, impressed by his skill. We trundled down the hill, down to where the black, crab-like coach was parked. Ewe exited with a smile. He had a sparkle in his eye that wasn't there before. He snapped his lapels tight and spun on his heel toward the front door. I followed his gait with my eyes and realized I was standing next to the monstrosity that was the Chantry Ale House.
This place was old. Actually, more like ancient. It was a Dwarven structure that seemed to have evolved as it was being built. The outside looked more than a little odd. But, as Ewe explained, that, on the inside, it was a veritable maze of narrow passageways, dead ends, and nooks. Ewe mentioned that there were many and indiscretion kept secret because of this maze.
A waitress was waiting at the ready, straightening up as we moved in through the greeting lobby. It had an arrangement that reminded me more of an Inn with a greatroom behind a wall and counter. She pulled out a variety of thin slate tablets and, instead of moving to the greatroom behind her, she pointed hastily to a side corridor and led us at a quick pace. The corridor turned into a winding staircase going up, flattening out, turning right, then going up again. Glancing down the unlit hallways, I could see stairs the led to dead ends and small side passages where I swear I could smell wafting food.
It made sense that these walls held secrets soundly. I doubt I could have even squeezed through some of the smaller passageways making for all sorts of room for indiscretion. The low and boxy Dwarven construction was not my friend. Danin, however, was perfectly at home. Marveling at the walls and running his hands over the ancient stonework.
We shuffled into one of the larger alcoves the waitress turned toward us with a wide smile, lighting up the room brilliantly. He bosoms were suspended gratuitously, giving everyone an exceptional view of her assets.
"My name is Margarette. I will be your attendant for the evening." It was a strange emphasis, but it clearly supplanted the term waitress in respect.
She artfully went down the list of specialty items. Handing out the slates, which, I recognized from the discards from the old mine we had discovered behind our acquired Shatterhammer storehouses. Usually these were scratched with chalk, but these had been written with some alchemical ink that glowed slightly in the darkness, a must for these dark rooms. Well, a must for the humans in the room. Chantry had spared no expense.
I had decided to let someone else order. While the menu was full there was not a single price listed, which made me wary of the expense. I understood quality and I was very hungry, but, regardless of how intent I was on paying attention, I quickly lost track of the many intangible descriptions the woman tacked on to each dish.
"Our specialty for today is a slow roasted duck that is then baked with a raspberry candied glaze. Thinly sliced and served with a wide variety of cheeses." She smoothly executed the menu, "This is my personal favorite. We get a sample of the special for the day, and this… I just melted."
Margarette put her hand to her chest passionately, overcome with the experience, I'm sure. That was all that was needed to sell the deal. Even Ewe had a rosy look to his face. I was grinning in spite of myself.
"I'm in." Bromm stated calmly, tossing his slate into the center of the table.
"But first, you should wet your palate with our finest ale. It's brewed in the lowest parts of the Ale House using the finest hops and spices. The brother's Chantry made this secret recipe many years ago when they first opened. It is unparalleled in quality." She leaned forward on the table, grabbing the slate from where it landed, "If you're looking for an experience, I would choose ..."
Still leaning forward, she was now almost horizontally over the table, suspending herself with strong legs using a sure grip with her leather soled shoes on the floor and the bulky table to keep her aloft, she tipped the slate toward Bromm, who was watching her closely, and pointed at the bottom entry. Danin was looking at the dress pulled tight around her shapely bottom.
"... this." Margarette said, without a hint of strain in her voice.
I felt butterflies in my stomach watching this woman work. I realized that I also felt a pang of regret. This likely wouldn't have happened if Silah was here. She would've had none of it. My eyes widened and I sat absolutely still. I hadn't twisted the sheath, so we hadn't been contact all day. And while I felt a little guilty, I was also very relieved.
"A round of those, absolutely." Floki said with a wry grin, looking past Bromm's stunned silence. He hadn't taken his eyes off of her.
"Perfect. The very best for my boys." She righted herself easily, using one of her gorgeous legs as a counter-balance. She collected the slates, spun with a flourish, and exited the alcove.
Sig coughed slightly. I rubbed my forehead, looking at the others. Waiting for someone to speak.
"You should've seen what I saw." Danin said, with a grin and a slow nod.
First was a round of ales, which, apparently, was their finest brew. It was dark and richly dense, with just enough sweetness and not overly hoppy. Bromm had a glimmer in his eye as he pulled the mug from his lips.
"Maybe I should pay their brewery a visit?" He smacked his lips and put the wooden mug down.
I gave him a sidelong glance, and shook my head slowly.
"What?" He said, incredulous, "I'd just like to shake their hands!"
"Yes, I'm sure."
The attendant participated readily, getting a full meal herself in the process. She would pair the candied duck roast with a selected slice of cheese and hand it us. Bromm leaned forward with his mouth open and she obliged, dropping it daintily on his tongue. Danin, also, got into the act. I was content to feed myself, but the artistry in her delivery was it's own sort of enchanting.
We had spent an hour dining with the near constant attention of our attendant. Many a gold exchange hands outside the actual cost of the meal. All she had to do was make us feel like kings.
I spread a butter mixture on the warm bread, and, to my surprise, it was honey butter. I hadn't had this in a very long time. I melted into my chair. Between the duck, cheeses, bread, and ale. It was a meal full of decadence. I glanced around the table and saw the same looks of sleepy satisfaction. Even Margarette seemed to have slowed her quick gait to linger in an available chair.
"We should get moving. We've got other plans for today," Floki said.
The attendant was immediately on her feet. She jingled slightly. She gripped her pouch, silencing the amount we had already spent on her. I chuckled to myself thinking of Silah doing similar work, but again, the horror of her observing and not participating ate away at my good mood. I grimaced at the forthcoming tongue-lashing.
Danin and Floki drained their purses. The woman had a small smile on her face as she gathered the coinage. She looked at each of us in turn.
"I hope to see you again in the future? Follow me, I can show you out." She walked purposefully out of the room and we filed out behind her. I quietly stepped into a side passage and unsheathed Silah. Bringing her back to human form in a dark alcove. She was quiet but her eyes were piercing.
"The whole meal? You forgot me for the whole meal?" She hissed as we filed back in line with the others, "Oh, I know better than to believe that."
I glanced at her, her shoulders were up, bristling. I'd seen this before, it was a dangerous sort of pouting. Our attendant swung the front doors open and the bright outdoors poured in, like pouring fire into my skull. I held up a hand so I could see. As we moved outside Silah stopped and turned to Margarette, sizing her up, with her fists balled up at her sides. Margarette was clearly surprised to see Silah exiting with us. I turned and watched, hoping it wouldn't go further than that. I cleared my throat, trying to bring her back from the brink. The woman looked very uncomfortable, eyes darting into the Ale House and back to Silah. But, eventually, Silah disengaged from her long angry stare and indelicately tromped toward me.
"Bye, loves!" Margarette called out and blew us a collective kiss. Silah stopped and snapped her head angrily toward the front doors as they quickly shut.
I waited while Silah caught up to me and fell in step with her, moving behind the rest.
Ewe was curious where Silah had come from. Sig leaned over and said something to him, and Ewe nodded with a smile, and continued to his alchemical carriage.
"We'll meet at my father's house for the hunt," Sig called back while Bromm and Danin piled in. He looked at the fuming Silah, "Just, get there when you get there."
Floki announced that he was stopping by to get some supplies before the hunt. "Just to be sure," he said. I gave him a sidelong look, more of pleading than question. He gave me a half-hearted smile and a thumbs up out of Silah's sight as he turned to take an alternate route.
In spite of everyone's smooth exits, we all ended up in different spots on the returning ferry. Silah and I stood silently side by side as it made its way back to the mainland.
And things had been going so well.
"So, how do I make this up to you?" I said, breaking the silence.
Her shoulders had since dropped and she wasn't overtly fuming anymore. She immediately squared off with me, locking eyes.
"If you want to make it up to me. This is what I want: You treat me to an evening of decadence—sooner, rather than later, mind you." She jabbed a finger to my chest painfully for each request, "We order the most expensive item off of the menu with a bottle of their finest wine or liquor—you can choose, I'm not picky."
"Then we will spend a delightful evening, walking with me—quite likely on that island back there—treating me like the jewel I am."
My head was spinning with the request.
"And we will continue the night until I duly sated. I expect, by then, you will never forget me." She seethed for a moment, then rather quickly regained her composure.
"And you're going to have to get some new clothes. Someone of my quality would nary be seen with such a ruffian." She turned toward the ferry exit as we were about to make landfall. "And I could use something more fitting as well."
I lifted my hand to my face, preparing to rub my forehead in response. She shot me a glare.
"Don't. Do. It," she said each word sharply.
I leaned my head back and looked to the sky.
May the gods take me and give me rest.
(Get to know Akeron.)
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