For the Rebellion

Chapter 4 - The Left Fiddle

I double checked that my mask was firmly in place, then entered The Left Fiddle through the back door, Amelina on my heels. It was another warm night, made more stifling indoors. But the tavern had its windows open wide. We passed down a dark hall, momentarily overcome by the noise in the cookery. A few steps later, the hall quieted again. As we neared the front of the building, the sound picked up.

I passed a woman in an apron carrying an empty tray. She paused. "Lady Mask," she greeted. "I saved you a table in the corner."

I nodded, then continued into the tavern. The night was in full swing, revelers drinking deep from their tankards. The floor was warn and covered in rushes, the beams covered in years of dust. The patrons were dirty from days of work and weeks without baths. We crossed the room, keeping to the shadows, keeping our hoods drawn, before finding the table that had been reserved for us.

I'd used this tavern as a meeting place before, but it had been a while since my last visit. We didn't choose our locations for the clientele or the setting. Part of why our group functioned so well, was our caution. We never met in the same place frequently. We spaced out meetings, setting dates and times the day of, to avoid information leaks, and we enacted a chain of command that ensured those of lower ranks didn't know much about those higher up.

I dragged out a chair, ignoring the sticky grime on the table. The bar maid I'd seen in the hall hurried over with a bottle and several clean goblets. I was certain she'd cleaned them double, just for me. The bottle didn't look like something they normally served, either.

"For you, my lady. I didn't think you'd want the ale we serve here." She kept her voice low, for our ears only.

"Thank you," Amelina said. I remained silent, waiting as the woman began uncorking the wine and pouring us each a goblet. She left the others empty, to await the arrival of the others.

"I think it's good work you're doing, Lady Mask," she murmured as she set my goblet in front of me. Just as she put it down, she hesitated, then picked it up again and sniffed. "You don't mind?"

I nodded, urging her on. She took several deep sips from the other side of the goblet, testing the wine. We waited a moment, then, "It seems fine. You never know these days."

"You really think someone would try to kill her?" Amelina asked.

"Can never be too sure these days," the maid said. She set the goblet down again, then said, "It's on the house. And I'll bring some food over. Not our usual fare, something better."

"Thank you, truly," Amelina said, obvious gratitude in her voice. The woman nodded then left, to attend to other patrons.

This tavern was one of the businesses secretly allied to the Free the Forest network. We relied on places like this, people like this. Our venture would have been a disaster otherwise.

I took a single sip of my wine, just enough to get the flavor in my mouth. There was still time before the others arrived. "Did you catch sight of him yet?" I asked Amelina.

"The prince?" She didn't turn to look at me as we spoke, our voices a bare whisper. I made a humming sound. "Yes. Two nights ago, at dinner. He sat at high table, charming everyone around him. I didn't see any of his companions, though."

"They didn't attend?"

"No."

I frowned. "I wonder why."

"Word is, they went out into the city while the prince was dining with Lord Lasker."

"Torin and Soren?"

"Both present, though Soren looked utterly sullen about it."

A small smile pulled at my lips. He would be. Of course he'd rather be holed up in the library or working on his latest theories of flower cross pollination.