Death Comes To All (Book 1) (19 page)

These
streets would be a maze in the middle of the day,
he thought.
The
lights would only help a person if they knew where they were going to
begin with.

To
Roland, who had never been there before, each street looked no
differently than the one before it. There were signs to mark the
different streets, but that wouldn't help someone who wasn't familiar
with those names.

He
knew he had heard the name of that inn before. After searching his
memory for several minutes he remembered where he had heard it. The
smuggler they had passed on the road only a few days before had
mentioned it. He had told them that the bartender could help them
sell some of their less than legitimate wares.

"Are
we going to talk to the bartender that the smuggler we met the other
day told us about?" he asked Malik. "I don't remember what
name he mentioned, but I know that this was the right inn."

"The
smuggler's name was Carn. He never did tell us that bartender's name.
It doesn't really matter. Even if we did have something for the man
to help us sell, which we don't, we wouldn't want to talk to him
about it anyway. Like I said before, smugglers don't give away real
contacts. There's always a chance they could be competitors. If I was
actually a smuggler, the last thing I would do is go to the man he
suggested."

"Sorry,
I forgot that," Roland said sheepishly.

"Don't
worry about it," Malik said in an off-hand manner. "It's
not really that important. It would only be necessary to remember it
if you ever wanted to act the part of a smuggler as a false identity.
You should never use a cover you can't pull off, and try to learn
everything you can about the covers you want to use. The more
believable your cover is, the less likely it is you'll be
discovered."

"And
by using more than one cover simultaneously most people won't look
passed the first," Roland added, recalling the layers of Malik's
own current cover.

"It
helps," Malik grinned wolfishly.

The
two found Tara seated in a corner table at the back of the bar room,
her back up against the wall where she could see someone coming from
any direction. Unlike the last time Roland saw her in an inn or when
she encountered others on the road, her hood was down, her jet black
fur and feline face clearly visible.

Roland
looked around the rest of the room, peering into the deep shadows
along the rafters, but he couldn't spot Trick anywhere. Either the
dragonling wasn't in the room at all, or he was keeping himself well
hidden. Two other customers were seated at a table closer to the
front door. Roland noted them, but otherwise paid them no mind.

Surely
Tara would give them some indication if the two might be dangerous,
he believed
.

"Trick
is waiting in our room upstairs," Tara informed them before
Roland had the chance to ask where their small companion might be.
"We should probably bring him something to eat before too long.
He hasn't eaten yet today, and he was acting a little peevish when I
came down. I didn't close the window, so he could go out and take
care of his needs, but we don't want him going out into the city
looking for food and causing mischief."

"Does
he do that sort of thing often?" Roland asked.

"Normally
he's fairly well behaved," Malik answered. "However if he
doesn't eat enough he might revert more toward his wild nature.
Should that happen, he'll do whatever he has to in order to get food.
Most likely that means nothing more than hunting a rat. Certainly no
one would complain about that. He might also take food someone might
have left out though, like meat hanging in a butcher's shop for
instance, if it's easily available and he was hungry enough. We don't
want any trouble with local butchers. Anything that draws attention
to us is something we need to avoid. I'll go feed him now and come
back down for dinner when I'm finished. He doesn't eat much so I
shouldn't be gone long."

Tara
wordlessly tossed him the keys to their room, leaving the two of them
at the table. Roland disliked not being able to see behind him, a
by-product of the training he had received from Tara and Malik he
supposed, but he had little choice in the matter. Tara was already
sitting in the corner of the table, and he thought it would look
strange for them both to sit on the same side, leaving one side of
the table empty. One of the last things that Malik had said had been
that anything that draws attention to them was something to avoid.

Two
people who both refused to turn their backs to the room would almost
certainly draw attention,
he suspected.

Before
either of them had said a word a waitress came to take his order for
dinner.

She’s
probably younger than I am,
he thought.

She
had dark auburn hair that hung down passed her ample bosom, nearly
even with her thin waist. Her bright green eyes, wide apart on her
broad face, gleamed with merriment. She was dressed in a simple blue
tunic that just barely covered her upper thighs. Roland's first
thought was that the girl was quite beautiful, though he was too shy
to consider telling her that.

"Hi,
I'm Tammie. Your friend here was waiting for you before ordering. Can
I bring you anything to drink while you decide what you would like to
eat tonight?" The girl's hair bounced this way and that as she
talked, completely distracting him. He shook his head slightly to
clear it.

"I'll
have a flagon of ale for now," he answered after a moment.

Roland
watched as the girl bounded away, flipping her hair as she turned. He
realized shamefully that it hadn't been her hair he was watching as
she headed for the bar. Tara snickered loudly once the girl was out
of earshot.

"You
should talk to the girl," Tara commented, chuckling. "She
wasn't nearly as friendly with me before you got here. I'm willing to
bet she's game. The worst she can do is say no, right?"

Roland
refused to comment, though his sun-burned face turned even redder
than it had been already. He knew exactly what Tara was suggesting.

Yeah
right. As if a girl like her would ever be interested in an ugly
troll like me.

The
girl returned a few minutes later with his ale. He thanked her
awkwardly, keeping his eyes directed at the table the entire time.
The young girl lingered longer than perhaps was necessary before
simply telling them to call her back over when they were ready to
order.

"You
probably should have said something," Tara told him seriously as
the girl walked away. He had pointedly refused to look at her as she
left that time. "I'm pretty sure she was flirting with you, just
a little bit. She looked like she felt rejected when you didn't look
at her. I would guess she knew you had watched her walk away the
first time. She might even have walked so provocatively on purpose,
and probably thinks that you saw something you didn't like. You would
think that you've never talked to a woman or something."

He
once again refused to speak, his face somehow managing to turn an
even deeper shade of red. He stared at his drink as if there was
nothing else in the room. Tara watched him for several seconds,
managing, just barely, to stifle a laugh.

"You
never have known a woman, have you?" she asked softly once she
had completely regained her composure.

Of
course not,
he thought.

"The
only people around me growing up were from neighboring farms, and I
wasn't very popular with any of the women there. I never met any
human girls until, well, just now really, and the sorvinian girls
thought I was ugly. They wanted big sorvinian brutes, not someone,
some
thing
, like me. I just figured the human women would
think the same way, only interested in their own species. I met you
and Malik in the first place I went once I was away from the farm. I
never had time to talk to anyone else. I hadn't really thought about
looking for a woman."

"Sorry.
I didn't mean to tease you. I didn't realize that you really
hadn't...well, you know. It doesn't matter. You're not on the farm
anymore, and it seems like this girl might be interested, even if
it's only for a night."

"I'll
think about it," he said noncommittally.

Yeah
right. As if she would ever be interested in me.

"Good.
Just be careful not to give away your true identity. You're a human
right now, at least that's how you look. Try not to do anything that
will make her think otherwise."

Malik
returned a few minutes later, looking from one grinning face to one
embarrassed looking one. Before he could ask what was going on the
waitress returned to take Malik's drink order and to see if anyone
was ready to order their meal.

"Might
I recommend the garlic chicken and the spiced potatoes? The garlic is
fresh picked today, and we're starting to become famous for our
potatoes. We just hired a new cook two months ago and everyone loves
him. You've missed the rush so you won't even have to wait long for
your meals. The breaded steaks are good too, but I prefer the chicken
myself." Her voice had a resonating quality to it that reminded
Roland of the reed flutes one of the merchant workers used to play
while his employer haggled with Roland's father.

"I'll
try the potatoes," he ventured. "A plate of greens and a
side of cooked carrots if you have them as well." He looked the
girl straight in the face and tried to give her what he hoped was his
best smile. It was a clumsy attempt at best, he believed, though the
girl's eyes flashed merrily and she awarded him with a bright smile
in return.

Could
she really like me, like Tara suggested?

"What
would you like as a main course?" she asked.

Of
course. She thinks I’m a human, so she would never in a million
years guess that I’m a vegetarian. Very few humans would chose
to be.

"I'll
have the chicken you suggested," Malik cut in when Roland didn't
offer an answer. "I'll also take a few pieces of jerky for later
if you have it. If not I'll just get some in the market tomorrow.
We've been on the road for some time now, and we've had nothing but
meat for the past several days, so my guard here probably doesn't
want anything but his vegetables. I'd imagine he might want some
jerky for later on though. We're so used to posting watches on the
road that we'll probably all be awake and hungry at different times
of the night, so something to keep with us is always a good thing.
I'll take a plate of those potatoes too."

"A
guard huh. That sounds incredibly exciting. You're all by yourself
too. You must be really good with a blade. Most guards I see go
through here are in groups of four or more. Only the best ever work
by themselves, or so I've been told." There was no question now
whatsoever that the girl was flirting with him, but Roland still
wasn't quite sure what to say to her. He shyly smiled back at the
girl as she looked down at him.

"Oh,
he really is that good," Tara cut in. "We only hire the
best, or the best we can afford anyway, and Roland here doesn't want
to work for anyone disreputable. We were able to hire him at a price
we could afford, even though he already had offers for twice that. He
doesn't like to brag about it, but he's one of the best I ever heard
of. When we ran into some bandits on the road he chased them off just
by his name alone. One of the guys said he had heard of him and they
ran off. He didn't even have to pull his blade."

What
is she talking about? I’ve never even used a blade!

"That's
incredible! I've never heard of anything like that before. For
someone so young to have a name that brings fear to the hearts of
cutthroats, you must be truly remarkable. You must have started
training while you were still just a small child. How old were you
when you first picked up a blade?"

Roland
stammered, unable to come up with a reply. Tara's tall tale had put
him into parts of his background story that he hadn't invented yet.
He had only gone into the basics, not into details like his companion
had been providing. Had he added those details they certainly
wouldn't have been anything as unbelievable as the story that Tara
was telling about him.

What
should I say?

"He
started training with the blacksmith in the town where he grew up
when he was still only five," Tara added for him. She was much
better at making things up on the spot than he was. He didn’t
have the foggiest idea what answer to give. "Even then he was a
powerful child, or so the smith had told us. He was the one that
introduced us to Roland. I haven't seen him use a blade yet, but I
have seen him pick up a log that was in the road and throw it back
into the woods. That thing must have weighed five or six hundred
pounds at least, but he picked it up and threw it as if it weighed no
more than a thin spear."

Well,
I am strong at least,
he thought.
If this girl decides to test
my strength I can prove that boast.

"Wow,
you must be really strong!" Tammie exclaimed, putting a small
hand on one of his broad shoulders and boldly giving the muscle a
soft squeeze. He suppressed a shudder from the unexpected contact.
"There's not too many customers today, so maybe we can talk a
little more later. Most of our regulars are fishermen, and won't be
back for another day or two, so I shouldn't be very busy. Maybe after
you've eaten you can show me a little of that strength if you want. I
should get your orders in for now so that the cook can get started.
What would you like miss?"