Al Dakar

By Amanda Wray

 

Chapter Four             

 

            The inn at Maragill was small and homely, not at all the grand affair that Mandine had been expecting, or hoping for. A haze of blue pipe smoke hung at ceiling level, and small tables were scattered haphazardly throughout the common room. Some were round, some were square, some had stools and others high backed chairs. There was a vacant space to one side where a tired-looking musician sat strumming a small harp half-heartedly. Every once in a while he would look around at his nonexistant audience and smile wanly, then frown at his harp as if trying to decide whether or not it was worthwhile to resume playing. His harp case lay open and empty at his feet.

            The room itself looked as though it had been built by a carpenter who’d sampled a few too many of the tavern’s ales -- Mandine turned this way and that, loooking at the room’s four corners. Not one of them seemed to form the proper right angle.

            The common room’s occupants seemed very wrapped up in their own business and many of them did not even spare a glance for the newcomers. Mandine saw with mild shock that most of them were huddled in small knots, bent over cards or dice. Such activities were strictly forbidden on the Manor grounds. Mandine made a disapproving sound, and frowned at the first man who made eye contact with her. He met her gaze dimly, in a half drunken stupor, and then turned back to his cards with no expression having registered on his face. Mandine wondered at his complacency for a moment, but then realized its cause: he’d been looking at a barely-grown peasant boy, not the Lady on whose manor he made his living. Mandine had momentarily forgotten her butchered hair and male attire. At the remembrance of her appearance, she frowned even more.

            Aleric, who had entered the room just behind her, put his hand to the small of her back and nudged her forward towards the bar and the inn’s proprietor. Mandine left off her study of the common room’s inhabitants, and walked over to where a plump middle-aged man sat behind the bar, biting a gold coin between his teeth with a thoughtful frown. A small dagger rested on the bar next to him, and he fingered the silver hilt absently with his left hand as he examined the pair that approached the bar. “Food, lodging or both?” he asked briskly.

            “Both,” Aleric said, and the man whisked out the appropriate ledger from underneath the bar. Another venture underneath the bar brought forth a bottle of ink and a quill pen. The innkeeper hummed as he put pen to ink, blotted, and then stood poised over the ledger as if to write.

            “Nights?” the man asked.

            “One,” Aleric replied.

            “One night, one room, that’s six bits and twopence.”

            “Two rooms,” Aleric interposed hastily.

            “Pardon?” The innkeeper asked, rubbing his nose with an ink-smeared thumb.

            “Two rooms,” Aleric repeated. Gesturing to Mandine, he added by way of explanation, “My brother here snores.”

            Mandine, standing to the right and slightly in front of Aleric, stepped backwards slowly and inconspicuously, stepping down hard on Aleric’s toe. When he grunted slightly, she turned to look over her shoulder at him in mock surprise. “So sorry, brother,” she murmured.

            The innkeeper appeared not to notice this exchange. He smiled deeply and moved to write flourishingly in his ledger. “Well then,” he said in satisfaction,”that will be twelve bits, fourpence.”

            Aleric produced a small purse and painstakingly counted out exact change. He could have settled their entire bill with one gold coin, but he insisted on playing the role of a peasant to perfection. Mandine gave him a withering look and went to sit at an empty table in one corner of the common room. It felt so good to sit down without the bumpy gait of a horse beneath her. She slumped forward in her chair and rested her head in her hands.

            A moment later Aleric came to join her. “Tired?” he asked.

            Mandine glared at him. “Do we have food coming?”

            “Yes, be patient. It’s on its way.” Then he asked, “So how are you enjoying your first experience at an inn?”

            Mandine lifted her head enough to meet his gaze. “Ask me again after I see a bed.”

            Aleric smiled in amusement. “Actually, in my experience it’s better to ask before you see your bed.”

            “What? They do have beds here, don’t they?” Mandine asked, sitting up straighter and looking at Aleric pleadingly.

            “Of course they do. Relax. I was only joking.”

            “Don’t tease me like that. I’ve had a long day. Would it kill you to be a gentleman?” Mandine asked reproachfully.

            “Keep your voice down,” Aleric said mildly. “I don’t see any gentlemen here, do you? And I certainly don’t see a Lady of House Al Dakar.” He looked at her firmly, driving home his point without words.

            “I know, I know… discreet as a church mouse,” Mandine sighed. “But I must say, I don’t like being a man one bit. I don’t see how you can stand it.”

            “We cope,” Aleric said, as a well-proportioned barmaid wearing not much of anything leaned over their table and placed plates of food and mugs of some unidentifiable liquid in front of them. She smiled sweetly at Aleric, who smiled back. She smiled sweetly at Mandine, who ground her teeth and examined her food between furious glares at Aleric, who could be pinned easily and not too accurately as the source of all Mandine’s current misery.

            “Enjoy, boys,” the barmaid said before departing. She sounded like she had a frog stuck in her throat.

             Mandine ground her teeth some more. She looked at Aleric over a spoonful of stew. He looked as though he was thoroughly enjoying himself, and her situation in particular. He leaned foward and whispered in conspiratorial tones, “I think she may ask you to dance.”

            “I am glad that you are having fun at my expense,” Mandine said with a wounded air. “I would hate to think I was humiliating myself for a less than enthusiastic audience.”

            Aleric just continued his meal in self-satisfied silence.

            Mandine pushed the stew around on her plate. It was a lot spicier than she was used to. The meat seemed to be coated with some vile yellow powder that made her tongue burn and her eyes water. A sip of the dark amber liquid in her mug offered no relief; it was not the watered-down wine she was used to at the manor, instead it was some heinously strong concoction that burned all the way down her throat and seemed to want to catch fire upon arrival in her stomach.

            Aleric noted her meager appetite. “Not to your liking?” he asked, indicating her plate with a wave of his spoon.

            Mandine pushed her plate away in disdain. “This stew is not fit for a –“

            “Peasant?” Aleric finished with a grin.

            “Pig,” Mandine corrected, her face flushing. She had not been going to say peasant. Really, she had not. She changed the subject. “Why do they insist on covering the meat with that awful...  stuff?” She did not know what the spice was called. The cooks at House Al Dakar did not use it.

            “Curry?” Aleric asked. It’s to disguise the flavor of the meat. It tends to get a bit rancid in the summertime.”

            Mandine swallowed carefully and pushed her plate still further away, then eyed it as though it contained a coiled pit viper. “You mean it’s rotten?” she asked in a horrified half-whisper.

            “Not rotten,” Aleric said cheerfully. “Just... well aged.” He looked at her plate and then back at her. “Are you going to be finishing that?”

            “No!” Mandine said emphatically. “I seem to have lost my appetite.”

            “Oh. Well, in that case...” Aleric scooped up her plate and pushed the remainder of her stew onto his own empty plate and resumed eating.

            Mandine leaned back in her chair and sighed, glancing around the room again. She had chosen a table near the forlorn musician and his empty harp case. She suddenly felt sorry for him and dug a silver coin from her belt pouch. Catching the old man’s gaze, she flipped the coin into the open harp case. His gaze tracked the coin as it arced through the air and came to rest.  He missed a note, his hand suddenly shaking. Mandine smiled to herself in satisfaction. He’d probably not seen such a big tip in months.

            Her satisfaction was short lived, however. Aleric grabbed her wrist as soon as the coin left her hand, and whispered fiercely, “What do you think you’re doing?”

            Mandine eyed him reproachfully and removed her wrist from his grasp. “I was just being charitable. That poor man hadn’t even made enough to pay for his dinner!”

            Aleric met her glare for glare. “And now thanks to you he has a silver mark emblazoned with the emblem of House Al Dakar! What a way to remain inconspicuous, my Lady,” he chastised in a whisper.

            Mandine’s cheeks flushed and she fixed the tabletop with a guilty look. “I’m sorry,” she mumbled. “I wasn’t thinking. I’ll be more careful,” she promised, acutely embarrassed.

            Aleric grunted from behind his mug of ale. “See that you are,” was all he said.

            Mandine sat in uncomfortable silence for a few moments, painfully aware of Aleric’s displeasure even though he had returned his attention to his plate and appeared, outwardly at least, to have entirely forgotten the incident just past. She watched him for a moment and sighed to herself. This was just not turning out to be the coming-of-age adventure she’d had vaguely in mind when she had climbed out her window less than twenty four hours ago. She had to admit that it was convenient and helpful having Aleric along... she probably would have been rounded up by her mother’s guards long since, if she’d gone alone. And yet, his authority was beginning to chafe. This was her personal quest, after all. Aleric was her escort, that was all. She was in charge...  So why didn’t it feel that way?

            Perhaps it was time for Mandine to begin assuming some responsibility and showing Aleric that she was capable of taking care of herself. Mandine rose from her seat. Aleric looked up at her questioningly, as he swallowed the last bite of her dinner. “Going upstairs?” he asked. “Our rooms are the last two on the left.”

            “Actually,” Mandine replied, raising her chin firmly, “I thought I would take a look around outside. Maybe talk to the stablehands, and see if they can tell me anything about those rumors the peasants have been telling.”

            Aleric choked on his last sip of ale, and rose also. “I don’t think so. You’d better stay here. I’ll talk to the stablehands myself and see what I can find out. It’s not safe out there at night.” He handed her a key. “You should get some sleep. Tomorrow’s going to be another long day.”

            Mandine glared at him, and then down at the key in her hand. She opened her mouth for an angry retort but thought the better of it. She would just attract attention by starting an argument here and besides, she didn’t want Aleric to know she was upset. He would just think her childish. Instead she gave a curt nod, picked up her saddlebags off the floor, and headed up the stairs. She tried not to look like she was sulking, but wasn’t sure if she succeeded. A look behind her at Aleric would tell her, but she kept her gaze forward.

            Mandine kept her chin up and her shoulders squared until she was in the dim narrow hallway above the common room, safely away from Aleric’s eyes. Once in the shadows of the hallway however, she dropped her saddlebags with a clatter and threw herself against the wall, allowing herself a few moments of sullen self-pity.

            Aleric was impossible! Mandine kicked the heel of her heavy boot against the wall in frustration. If there had been any doubt of it before, Aleric had just proven that he still thought of her as little more than a child. Why else would he refuse to allow her to take on responsibility or make decisions on a journey that was supposed to be hers alone?

            Mandine wasn’t about to deny that poking around outside after dark was dangerous, but Aleric himself would be first to admit that she was his equal in all the forms of combat he had taught her. It had been over two years since he’d had anything new to teach her.

            It was obvious to Mandine that Aleric considered her the child and himself the adult in their relationship.

            Well, Mandine thought. She straightened from her slouch and picked up her saddlebags with new resolve. The stables weren’t the only place to gain information, after all; the common room was full of men who would probably be more than willing to gossip about the world’s troubles over a mug or two of ale. Mandine was determined to learn something useful before Aleric returend from his foray to the stables.

            Mandine shouldered her bags and made her way to the end of the dark hallway. She halted before the last door on her left and fumbled with the key for a good half minute before managing to open the obstinate door.

            Stepping inside the room did nothing to improve Mandine’s mood.

            A small lantern on a rickety table by the bed had been lit, and provided a flickering illumination of the room’s sparse interior. The entire complement of the room consisted of a bed that appeared to be more than a little bit too small, the table, and not much else. There was a cracked pitcher of water resting on the table beside the lantern, an eqaully cracked porcelain basin underneath the table, and a broken mirror hanging above the table.

            Mandine eyed the precariously slanting wooden table and wondered crossly if it was a prerequisite of the innkeeper’s that all the items in the rooms be damaged to some degree or another. She made her way across the painfully squeaking floorboards and dropped her saddlebags on the bed. From the sound of the dull thud as they hit, she suspected that the wooden floor woould be a softer pallet to sleep on.

            Turning away from the bed, Mandine regarded herself in the mirror. She knew what to expect, but the image of her shorn dark locks and male attire still came as a mild shock. She was also surprised by the sweat and dust that coated her face and matted her hair.

            As she stared at herself in the mirror, a new thought occurred to her. Who in the common room was going to pay any mind to a half grown peasant boy? No one was -- that had been the idea. She was never going to get any useful information out of anyone, attired as she was. If anything, she was more likely to get her ears boxed for being an impudent boy who asked too many questions.

            An image of the sultry barmaid who had served their meal flashed through Mandine’s mind. She couldn’t help the wicked grin that spread across her face as she kicked her boots off and pulled the rough green tunic over her head. Rumaging around in her pack, she emerged with a facecloth, cake of soap, comb, and the white riding dress that she had discarded the night before in favor of more masculine clothing. Hastily she went to work.

            A half hour later she regarded herself in the mirror once more. Her appearance was vastly improved. Her face was clean and her hair was freshly washed and combed out. The length couldn’t be helped, but now that it was wet it just touched her shoulders, and she had to admit that Aleric had done a halfway decent job of cutting it; it definitely could have been worse.

            Mandine studied the conservative highnecked dress that she was now wearing, and thought of the sultry barmaid again. Her dress just wasn’t quite right... Picking up her belt knife from the pile of discarded clothing on the floor, she decided that there was definitely not going to be any confusion in the minds of the men downstairs as to what gender she was.

            Before she could think aboout it too much, she took hold of the collar of her dress in one hand, and slashed away at the material with the other. Pulling the fabric free, she tried not to blush as she looked at the results. She had meant to give herself a generous V neck, but well, not quite that generous. She tried to shift the dress so that less cleavage was exposed, but it was to no avail. Mandine sighed, and before she could lose her nerve, headed for the door.

            She took the first few steps back down to the common room carefully, leaning over the banister and scanning the room anxiously for Aleric. There was no sign of him. Mandine breathed a deep sigh of relief and then wished she hadn’t, as she tugged crossly at the neckline of her dress. Then she straightened, calmed her nerves, and marched herself down the rest of the stairs and into the common room.

            The musician had given up on the harp and was trying his luck with a flute now, but most of the room’s other occupants were still engaged in their previous pursuits, namely drinking and gambling. Mandine’s appearance earned her several raised eyebrows, several crude whistles and calls for her company, and many crooked smiles. The barmaid with the frog in her throat looked cross at suddenly having competition.

            Now that Mandine was there, she wasn’t quite sure how to proceed. Nevertheless, she managed to catch the eye of a somewhat handsome, rough-looking man who was sitting among a knot of men who were drinking and playing at some game involving dice. He smiled at her, and Mandine smiled tentatively back. The man leaned over to the next table and pulled up an extra chair, and patted it invitingly. Mandine gave a mental shrug and decided that this was as good a way to proceed as any, and she made her way over to the table and took the offered seat.

            “Hey there, sweet thing,” the man drawled with a grin that put Mandine in mind of a wolf or some other predatory animal. He put an arm around the back of her chair. “What’s a pretty little thing like you doing all alone?” The dice game forgotten, one of the other men pushed a full mug of ale towards her. Mandine accepted it with the uncomfortable feeling that she was going to need it to get this job done. Her throat was dry. She took a gulp of the ale as a pretense while she thought quickly.

            “Oh, I am not alone,” she said in a tone which she hoped was playful yet informative, but which she feared was more along the lines of none-of-your-business. “I am travelling with my brother.”

            The men glanced around the room uneasily, and Mandine copied them before adding with a giggle, “He seems to have stepped out for the time being. Oh well!” She giggled again, and gave a so-be-it shrug, then winced inwardly and fought off the urge to yank her dress up around her chin.

            The men resumed their smiling. Now they all looked like wolves, Mandine thought, as she took another gulp or two of ale. Before any of them could say anything to further derail Mandine’s quest for information, she added in a way that she hoped didn’t sound too pointed, “My brother and I, we don’t get out this way too often. We’re, uhm, visiting relatives who live near the mountains. But I must say,I am getting positively frightened! We have been hearing the strangest tales about things going on in these parts, creatures and things lurking about at night... Why, it’s enough to give a poor girl nightmares!” Her speech done, Mandine buried her face in her ale and hoped that she had managed speak in more or less the way a peasant girl might, not having ever really heard a peasant girl say much more than “yes, m’lady.” She felt like a fool.

            The man closest to her patted her shoulder and made a soothing sound, while sharing an amused glance with his comrades that Mandine supposed she wasn’t meant to notice. “There, there, doll, it’s nothing for a cute thing like you to trouble your pretty little head over,” he said. “You just drink up –“ he pushed another mug of ale at Mandine, who realized with a start that hers was empty – “and leave the worrying for the men folk.”

            Mandine started on the second mug of ale and tried to think of a way to salvage her line of questioning without arousing suspicion. “You would not believe some of the stories those farmers are telling,” she pouted. “Why, the way they talk! Giant wolves with hooves like horses... I may be only a simple farm girl, but I am sure there is no such beast.” She took another gulp of ale and waited while the men exchanged another amused glance. This time, though, some of the men appeared uneasy.

            “It’s the damn Seekers,” one of the men grumbled. “Where else would such monstrosities come from?”

            Mandine gulped some more ale. She had the feeling that this was important stuff and that her mind should be racing, but somehow it seemed to be putting forth only a very sluggish attempt. The vague thought that she had eaten no dinner and probably shouldn’t be drinking started to make its way across her consciousness, and then got lost somewhere.

            There was a general murmur of agreement from around the table, and some curses muttered in the Seekers’ name.

            Mandine looked quickly from face to face, trying not to let her puzzlement show. Her dreams told her that whatever this threat was, it was the Seekers who could help stop it. How could they be responsible? Mandine refused to believe, yet a small tendril of doubt was worming its way into her mind. What if the Seekers were responsible? What if she was leading herself and Aleric straight into a trap? With a daughter of House Al Dakar as hostage, what would the Seekers demand as ransom?

            “The Seekers!” she exclaimed. “Do you really think they are responsible? Is there any proof?”

            The men laughed. “Proof! What proof do you need? What foul things aren’t the Seekers responsible for?”

            Mandine gave a small smile that she hoped looked like agreement, and turned towards her ale once more, not wanting to press the issue further. She noticed with mild astonishment that her mug was empty once more. She frowned at the empty glass in puzzlement, trying to discern if perhaps there was a hole in the bottom from which the ale might have escaped.

            A barmaid solved her problem by placing a full mug in front of her at a signal from one of her companions. Mandine accepted it graciously with no intention of actually drinking it, but somehow her resolve didn’t last long. One of the men made some comment about a fish that made the others laugh but that Mandine didn’t quite get. Her mind seemed more than a bit clouded.

            The sturdy farmer who had waved her over to the table in the first place was looking at her with glittering eyes. Wolf-Face, Mandine decided to call him. If that wasn’t his given name, it should have been, she mused. But she felt no unease. The ale had taken care of that. It was also making her feel giddy and her mind felt like it was sloshing through molasses, but she judged it to be a fair trade-off.

            Wolf-Face dropped his arm from the back of her chair and let it drape around her shoulders. He grinned at her. Mandine fancied she saw sharp canine teeth. “Now then,” he said, “let’s see if we can’t talk about more pleasant things, eh?” He gave her shoulder a squeeze. The other men at the table laughed.

            “Well, actually –“ Mandine began. Somehow things were not going precisely as planned, anymore. She frowned, wondering when she had managed to lose control of this situation.

            Wolf-Face dropped his hand lower and squeezed again, cutting Mandine’s response short. For a moment her shock was so great that she sat frozen, staring at Wolf-Face in bewilderment. Surely he could not have meant to do that. Surely she should be treated with the respect she deserved. It must have been an accident, she thought. Yes, that explained it; his hand must have slipped. She felt better. Only, his hand was still there.

            And he squeezed again. Mandine pushed his hand away, but he snaked his other arm around her and tried to pull her towards him. Then suddenly he let her go. Mandine pushed herself away from him, relieved but confused. Wolf-Face sat frozen, staring nervously at the tabletop. In fact, everyone at the table was suddenly very still and quiet. In fact, the whole room seemed to have grown quiet.

            “No doubt,” said a voice Mandine recognized, “you can feel the knife point against your back. Get up and walk away slowly, or you will feel it in your heart.”

            Mandine’s gaze shot up, and she saw Aleric standing grimly behind Wolf-Face. He was holding a knife between Wolf-Face’s shoulder blades; the sharp point had already drawn a thin bead of blood.

            Wolf-Face slowly rose from the table and walked stiffly to the door and outside. Aleric didn’t sheathe his knife right away. He gestured to the other men at the table, whose faces were beaded with perspiration. “I think you’d better leave too,” Aleric said, brandishing the knife. They hastily complied. After a moment, a low murmur of conversation resumed in the common room, and the musician tried a tentative note or two on his flute.

            Aleric glared furiously at Mandine. Mandine glared furiously at the floor.  She could not think of the proper thing to say. She was a grown woman; surely she did not have to explain her actions to Aleric, so that made an apology out of the question. Thanks did not seem to be in order either; after all, had she really needed his assistance just then anyway? She decided that a dignified retreat was probably the best course of action.

            Mandine rose from her chair and took a step towards to stairs. The floor seemed to have shifted position slightly since last she’d taken note of it, and was not now where she remembered it. She staggered, and almost fell. The room lurched dizzyingly. Aleric grabbed her shoulders to steady her. He looked at her, and then seemed to notice the empty mugs at her place at the table. Without a word, he picked her up and proceeded to carry her across the room and up the stairs.

            This did not seem like the dignified retreat Mandine had been thinking of. She squirmed around, trying to get down. “Aleric,” she protested, “what are you doing? I’m fine... I’m not drunk, put me down!”

            Aleric still said not a word. He threw open the door to her room, deposited her on the bed, and regarded her angrily. “Just what do you think you were doing down there?” he inquired. He sounded calmer than Mandine would have expected, but only by a fraction.

            “I wanted to find out about those rumors,” she said defensively, and then added, “and you shouldn’t’ve interrupted; I was finally getting somewhere!”

            Aleric snorted. “I’ll say; straight into that man’s bed!”

            Mandine looked at him reproachfully. That comment had been entirely uncalled for, she thought. She responded with the first thing that popped into her mind. “That’s my decision to make!”

            Aleric stared at her, dumbfounded into silence. About six different emotions flashed across his face in quick succession, the first of which looked like disbelief; the rest were unreadable. “Fine,” he said finally. “Do what you wish.” He started for the door.

            A sharp feeling of shame stabbed through the alcohol to find its way to Mandine’s brain. “Aleric,” she said quickly, “wait.” She pulled herself up off the bed and managed to make it across the floor to stand in between Aleric and the door. The floor was still being somewhat uncooperative, and was continuing to tilt in unexpected directions. She grabbed onto Aleric’s shirt for support. “I’m sorry,” she said, finding his gaze with her own. He seemed to be obediently standing still; the rest of the room, however, was doing pirrouettes. “I’m sorry I made a scene, I’m sorry I messed up my disguise, I’m sorry I drank too much…”

            She paused, sure there were other things to be sorry for also, but suddenly distracted by Aleric’s eyes, which were illuminated by the lamplight. They were blue. So very, very blue. And very, very bright. How come she had never before noticed how very, very blue and very, very bright they were? She blinked a few times, trying to dispel that brightness, and to remember what she’d been saying. It had been very important. “…Sorry I didn’t say thank you for getting that man away from me... I really am glad you did that…“ That seemed to about cover it. She fell silent.

            “You are very welcome, Mandine,” Aleric said quietly after a moment. They stood regarding each other for a moment. Mandine realized that she was still clutching Aleric’s chest for balance, which she didn’t really need anymore.

            Aleric seemed to notice too, and brought a hand up to gently pry her fingers loose from his shirt. For some reason Mandine was reluctant to let go of him, and so she entwined her fingers around Aleric’s hand instead. “Mandine,” he said, “You need to get to bed. To sleep this off.”

            He led her over to the bed once more and sat her down, trying to disentangle her hand from his. She held on tightly, and he gave up for the time being and tried instead to get her to lie back against the thin pillows. As he hovered over her, Mandine suddenly and inexplicably wondered what Aleric’s lips would feel like if she were to kiss him. A sudden wave of giddiness came over her, and she slid her hands around the back of his neck, trying to draw him closer to her.

            Aleric froze, eyeing her quizzically, for a moment uncertain of her intent. She drew closer, using his weight to pull herself towards him. Her gaze caught his, and for an instant she thought she saw her same desire reflected in his eyes. But then he put a hand against her shoulder to stop her, and pulled himself out of her grasp.

            Aleric started to get up, and Mandine put a hand on his arm. “Stay with me,” she whispered plaintively.

            Her meaning rang loudly and somewhat shockingly in her ears, and was not lost on Aleric either. He cleared his throat and looked away. “I can’t do that,” he said gruffly. This time he removed himself quickly from her grasp, and stood up. “Get some sleep,” was all he said as he walked swiftly to the door and out, closing it behind him. She heard the door to his room across the hall open and close with a thud.

            Mandine lay back on her pillows, suddenly feeling very sleepy. Her last thought before she fell soundly asleep was the vague discomfort that she had just done something about which she would feel very, very embarrassed in the morning.