Caymead

Chapter 1

Why is it raining?

Who am I kidding- this is Caymead, of course it's raining.

Gathering my courage, I hike up my skirt and run into the muddy street. Water instantly soaks the cheap fabric of my dress, and a shiver racks though me. All around me, people are hurrying around to get to shelter. A carriage drives by and kicks up a sheet of mud, which hits me dead on.

Just my luck. I'm already running late for my meeting because my mother was causing a fuss, and now I'm soaked and muddy. Stupid rain.

Walking through the mud is difficult, but I eventually make it to the meeting place- Ranvet Tavern. Pushing open the solid oak door, I gasp as a wave of heat hits me.

"Come in lass, have a seat!" an older gentleman behind the bar calls out. I nod in appreciation and take a table in the corner of the room. The tavern is about half full, but the abysmal weather makes me guess that most of the people here are just sheltering from the rain. A young man plays a fiddle on the roughhewn stage, and my toe taps without my knowledge to the driving rhythm. As much as I want to be absorbed into the music, it's really the fiddler who catches my attention. His piercing gray eyes constantly scan the room as he plays, making him seem much more alert than the average musician.

I'm so distracted by the gray-eyed fiddler that I miss the waiter coming to take my order. "Hello Miss, welcome to Ranvet Tavern. Can I get you some beer to ward off the cold?" he asks.

"No thank you, I'll just have tea." I reply, trying not to feel awkward that unlike everyone else in Caymead, I don't drink.

The waiter's gaze holds no judgement. "That'll be out in just a minute, Miss," he says. As he walks away I tune back into the music. The fiddler's fingers are flying over the strings so fast that they are practically a blur. Outside, lightning seems to flash in time with the music, and thunder punctuates the melody ominously.

I've already checked, but I look around once more. No one in the tavern matches the description of the person I'm supposed to meet. A tall, sandy-haired man has a proposal for me, but apparently he's a no show, which is unfortunate as I'm running low on money.

The tavern door opens, letting in a blast of cold air and a sheet of rain. A cloaked man walks in with just a hint of swagger. After gently shutting the door, he pushes back his cowl. Ruffled hair springs loose, which frames his gentle green eyes.

I'm betting this is the guy. He's tall, has blond hair, and possesses a sense of confidence that most of the other tavern patrons lack. He glances around before his eyes settle on me. Walking with purpose, he quickly approaches. "Are you Miss Sang Sorenson?" he asks with a smile.

"Yes sir, and you are..."

"Asen. Pleasure to meet you Miss Sang," he says while holding out his hand for me to shake. I oblige, marveling at his smooth grip- most of the people in Caymead have hands calloused from farming.

Asen sits across from me with a playful smirk, and I know that it's time to shock him.

"So Lord Sean, why do you need the services of a cryptographer?" I ask, causing Sean to look at me with dismay.

"Excuse me Miss, I believe you heard me wrong. My name is Asen, not Sean," he postures, but I can tell he knows I'm onto him.

I roll my eyes. "Please Lord Sean, what kind of cryptographer would I be if I couldn't recognize a simple anagram? Plus, your face is on every two thawel coin!"

Sean looks around furtively. "Shh! I'm trying to be undercover! Just keep on calling me Asen."

"Fine, Asen, but can you please explain why you requested this meeting?" I ask, and Sean brightens.