Swords of Gilded Crimson

Chapter 43 | Strings Attached |

The moon's soft lustre fell upon the dewy terrain of the new region of the forest we trekked through. Here, the winds grew softer; their bite not so powerful as to bring colour to one's face. All together, it provided the assurance that large enough buildings were underway.

And soon enough, that assurance was claimed.

The Steel Wolf Tavern lived up to its name- quite literally so, when noting the icon of a steel coated dire wolf in the centre of the tavern's name board, with its writing emblazoned in orange and red. Inside, through its wooden double doors, a handful of drunkards could be heard chattering into the late night. It was nothing to make caution of just yet. So I looked over and observed the rest of our whereabouts.

Across was a long winding road that must span on for tens of miles, and on its other side, were the zigzag patterned trees lining the forefront of quaint, little village, though that could only be told when squinting at the same spot for a few moments even with faerie sight. It all fit Nikolai's description accurately enough. Of course, he hadn't a doubt about the place and was already rummaging through the satchels.

I thought to pull out the maps and locate the four way intersection further down, but thankfully his work ethic hadn't taken such a dramatic turn as his mood had tonight, and it was only to bring out his water skins.

He took to the doors of the tavern without a second glance back.

There was the option of leaving him to it, and venturing off to make sense of the intersection myself- rather than to continue putting my trust so blindly in the Luxandrian General and just letting him lead the way, however foolish it was.

I rushed over to Nikolai and asked for the maps in his satchel, before he'd stepped through the double doors.

I should've known his new attitude, though more rational, wouldn't do as much good as was expected of it. He refused my demand for the maps, and clutched tighter his satchel containing them. As if my mere presence wasn't remotely important to him, he stepped in and carried on sauntering towards the main bar in the tavern.

Exasperated more at myself for ever allowing him to be the one to take the maps, I took off after him.

When he was within arm's reach, I tried to pry the satchel's strap off of him.

But kept his eyes now on the tavern keeper, and gestured to him for service. Though I doubted if the keeper had heard or even seen. He was quite different from the innkeeper Tom, from our first night, in the sense that there were probably centuries between them. With just a few patches of grey for hair, and clouded eyes that always appeared to be looking upwards, he was an odd old man that had me wondering where from he was mustering the strength to hobble from table to table. A few minutes later, he caught sense of Nikolai's call and came shuffling one foot at a time, towards us.

'Sorry, we're out of rooms for the night. Last good one's been taken not too long ago by a young maiden. She paid fairly well, but she was coming from Mightmere so why wouldn't she?' His thoughts went elsewhere. '...I could give you one near the livery barn if you're that desperate but I've got a sense of loyalty to my regulars.' He gestured not too discreetly towards the prostitutes moaning away, in the far corner. 'But if you were willing to-'

'We're not here for that.' I cut in before he said anything else.

It earned a round of laughter from the few that had chosen to listen in, and a thaw in Nikolai's new coldness as a quick grin surfaced on the face he'd been trying so hard to keep stern. Though he quickly added, 'Just some drinking water and we'll be gone.'

The half bent-over man took in the coins that Nikolai had placed on the table swifter than his appearance could accredit, but didn't fetch for the water. 'Can't do, unless you buy a drink with it. A proper drink.' He gestured to beverages listed on the chalkboard menu behind him. His 'proper' drinks all seemed to start at the minimum of fifteen fluid ounces. And though he may have given some water technically free of charge on the premise of hospitality to travellers, once it surpassed those fifteen ounces, water was also one of them and costed six marks as any other drink.