Chapter 10.1

Half a day’s ride from Krast, a lord and his hunting party sought shelter from acoming winter storm. The weather had chosen to cooperate with our tale, as a veil of white flakes drifted from storm-dark clouds and frosted our clothes, hair, and new grown beards. The Easter Green Forest lay to our left, a long valley of ebony trees bedecked with ice as a lady wears jewels, and the sheer cliffs of the Dragon’s Mouth mountains lay on our right. Around us crouched the mud and wattle huts of a meager, nameless village.

"There’s the Old Night Inn," Sharp said, pointing to disorganized lumber stacked in the vague shape of a building. A courtyard of filthy mud was hemmed in by a jumble of stone. Beside the door lay a bundle of filthy rags. There was a scream behind the half-open door, then rough shouts and splintering sounds. The door was thrown open and a body, dripping blood, was flung onto the new white snow. The bundle stirred, sat up, then lay back down again.

Lord Reinard’s face fell. "This? I was hoping for a good meal and a soft bed."

"It’s not a place where one of your standing would stay," I replied, with cold-stiffened fingers.

"It most definitely is not."

"Thus no one will think to ask questions here. We can stable the horses without fear of discovery."

"But will your... Will Elise be safe here?"

"She will have Jason and Ison with her." As well as her own skill with a long knife, and her sister’s reputation.

Slowly my lord dismounted, and the rest of us followed. He stood for a long time, staring at the inn, then asked, "Will someone come out to tend to our mounts?"

Sharp took a deep breath. "In this place, we must stable the horses ourselves. If you will follow me..."

Frowning deeply, Lord Reinard took the reins and walked after the Bard.