Chapter 22
Tavern Talk
“I think I'm getting a cold,” Ezra said miserably over the communicators, just over an hour later as he and Sarah marched along the muddy road into town. The pack shifted uncomfortably on his back with every step.
“Pretend to be a professional, Hawkins, and stop whining.” Sarah was clearly enjoying Ezra's private little hell.
“If I did this for a living, you can be sure that I'd complain every step of the way, but probably louder and about a wider array of issues,” Ezra grumbled back.
Mat snickered from his lookout position on a little hill near the town, the skiff at rest behind its holographic camouflage somewhere nearby. They walked into town unchallenged, Mat keeping them informed about any movement as they made their way in.
“It looks like there are a few people gathered at the inn. They're setting tables, getting ready for the morning. Seems a decent starting point. Two more buildings in, then turn left, thirty meters and it will be the big one on your right.” Mat's voice came through clearly despite the pounding rain.
“On our way,” Sarah replied, picking up her pace. Ezra let out a sigh, hoisting the heavy pack higher on his back and trotting to keep up. They opened the doors to the inn wide and let themselves in. There were three people in the room. A big, comfortably overweight man stood to the back of the bar, beard bristling. A worried looking, plump woman wrung her hands in her apron, eyes bloodshot and puffy, as if she had been crying. A little slip of a girl, probably eight or nine years old, paused as she set a table, freckled face peering up at the intruders. All three of them seemed to breathe a sigh of relief when they saw Sarah and Ezra, then went back about their business. The big man walked up to greet them.
“Traders?” he grunted out, nodding at the pack on Ezra's back.
Sarah smiled broadly. “Arborlen's best cider, just got it out before winter. Trying to get in one last trip before heading home.” She gestured curtly for Ezra to place the pack on the floor.
“Ungh,” the man grunted again, picking out one of the jugs, checking the labels and smelling the contents. Replacing the bottle, he began to say something and was immediately interrupted by the plump woman who bustled over, wiping off her hands.
“Well, we always like seeing Arborlen apples down here, especially so late in the year. Sit, sit. Kelly!” She hardly seemed to take a breath as she spoke, calling to the slight young girl, “Bring out a loaf of that bread. I'm Mistress Wellward. You'll have to excuse my husband, always jabbering on. Now, where were we? Oh yes, the cider. It will be so nice to have something to warm up what with the weather and the terrible commotion with that...” She stopped herself, eyes widening, then continued hurriedly, “Oh but now you won't care about that. A price! That's why you're here, after all. Now, we don't have much mind, you. There are a few bits of fur we had put aside, and some cheese that should be ready, and then of course we have–”
“Potatoes,” Sarah interrupted her. “Hearty Southedge potatoes can fetch a decent price further west, and we'd be obliged to take any you can spare. We can haggle over the price later, after you've accounted for our staying the night, that is.” Kelly arrived with the bread, still warm. “If you have a free room? I'm afraid we've been walking all night.”
“You want to stay the night?” Mrs. Wellward squeaked. “Oh, but I'm sure that important people like you have important things to be doing. The skyports, that's where you'll be headed. Really no reason to stay around here, really. I'm sure you'd be much more comfortable on the road or out–”
“In this storm?” Sarah asked incredulously. “No, a few hours spent not being wet and cold–” Mat grumbled at them incoherently through the comm link, “–sound heavenly right about now. And if you have a stable with some dry hay for my man here, he can help clean up to earn his keep.” Mat's grumbles turned to chuckles. Ezra looked from Sarah to the other woman in panic. She wouldn't really... he knew she was upset, but a stable? Seriously?
“I really don't know what we can offer you, what with the weather and not having had a chance to get everything ready... and then we'd have to adjust the cooking and set aside time for the cleaning and–”
“Martha, leave off,” Mr. Wellward rumbled as he easily lifted the pack containing the cider. “S'ok.” He nodded to Sarah and Ezra and made his way back toward the kitchen.
“Well, all right then.” Mrs. Wellward sounded a little flustered. “Kelly? Can you show Mistress...”
“Miss, actually. Hughes. Sarah Hughes. Call this one Ezra.” She gestured to Ezra, smirking at him. “He tries his best, don't you Ezra?” Her voice pitched as if talking to an excitable dog. Martha Wellward grimaced slightly, then gestured to her daughter.
“Well, go along now Kelly, show Miss Hughes up to the third room, that one should be clean. Go on now.” She shooed the girl off with Sarah trailing in her wake. Once they had left the room, she turned to Ezra. “Now don't you worry none, we don't hold with slavery around here. Especially with masters like that.” She thinks I'm Sarah's slave, Ezra thought dazedly. Oh, this just gets better and better. “You just go on out through the side door and take the ladder up to the hay loft and relax for a spell. I'll send Kelly along with some hot soup for you, won't that be nice?” She smiled at him and patted his hand. And slow, Ezra amended. She thinks I'm an idiot slave. Wonderful...
He smiled and bowed to her, following her instructions to the hay loft. He had a nice view of the town, Mat's hill looming in the background. “Thanks Sarah. The hay is great,” he grumbled into his communicator.
“Just trying to give you the whole experience, Hawkins. Keep an eye on anyone coming or going, especially if they look like they might be our wind-scarred friend. I've got a view of the road behind the building from here. Any luck on your end, Mat?”
“Town's just starting to come to life, as much as anything can in this thundering rain. Nothing yet.”
Ezra heard the door below him open and close. He urgently tried to tug his sword out from under him. “Guys, there's someone–“ Kelly's head popped up over the top of the ladder, grinning. Hot soup, that's right; he had forgotten. He blamed Sarah. And Mat. And the stupid rain. “False alarm,” he murmured, smiling back at the little girl.
She produced a bowl of steaming soup and a chunk of the freshly made bread. He nodded to her as he took it, and she squatted down to stare at him in unabashed interest. “Yes?” he said in amusement.
“Mama says you're a slave.” Ezra grimaced and nodded at the girl's observation, making a mental note to kill Sarah some time soon. “That sounds pretty bad. It's like you have to take orders all the time, and you never get to do what you want or anything,” she continued, eyes drifting to the bread in his hand. Ezra smiled and broke off a piece, offering it to her. She quickly took it and grinned at him. “Thanks. You seem pretty okay, so I'll tell you something. When I grow up, I'm gonna be an adventurer!”
“Really?” Ezra asked, choking a little on his bread from the suddenness of her revelation. What exactly had he done to warrant a serious hopes and dreams talk from the little girl?
She bobbed her head enthusiastically. “Uh-huh. And I'm gonna be an earth-crowned, or maybe travel with one.” Her eyes got a far-away look as she stared out into the rain. “They get to go everywhere,” she said in a tone of quiet awe, “anywhere they want, whenever they want. And no-one tells them what do or anything.” Ezra glanced around, not sure where this was going. He held out the bowl of soup, and she absently dipped her bread in it and took a bite. “I like you,” she said around mouthfuls. “Lets be friends.” She held out her free hand toward him. “Kelly.”
Ezra smiled again at the odd child, and shook her hand. “Ezra.”
Kelly nodded suddenly, as if deciding something. “One day, Ezra, when I'm an earth-crowned, I'll take you on adventures with me. Then you won't have to be a slave and you can do whatever you want.”
Ezra chuckled. “And how will you become an earth-crowned?” he
asked, bemused by the blunt little girl.
She gave him a look as if he had asked the stupidest question she had ever heard. “Everyone knows that,” she said, then her voice lilted into the obvious meter of a child's rhyme:
The earth-crowned are drawn
From the bold and the strong
From those who protect
And will right any wrong
Ezra felt the smile fall off his face. That was... basically the same conclusion he had come to, but only after days of pouring through the Guild's mission reports. And yet... if this was something everyone, even the children, knew about... they were missing something, something important. He began to ask her if she knew anything about the other elementalists, when Mrs. Wellward's voice drifted up to them, tone that of a mother calling her lollygagging children back to their duties.
“I better get back inside now. I need to help take care of Daniel while he's sick. Bye, Ezra!” Kelly vanished down the ladder.
“Bye,” Ezra said quietly as she left. He mulled over what he had learned from the little girl, so certain that she could become an earth-crowned, simple as rhyming.
“You should ask her out when this is all over, Hawkins,” Sarah's voice came through, dry and amused.
Sounds of Mat trying not to laugh weren't far behind. “Oh, oh help! The little girls are coming for me! They might have soup!” His communicator echoed with the choked laughter.
“Shut up, jerks,” Ezra grumped, embarrassed. He turned his gaze away from the hill, positive that Mat was watching him from his vantage point. That was the only reason he saw the little boy standing on top of a weather vane over a tall building behind the stable. A little boy staring directly at Mat.