Taniel (The Taverner's Daughter I)

98: Sam

"Gone?" Sam looked at the taverner with disbelief. "Bartle can't be gone. We were just in here a couple of hours ago," he said.

"Sold me the tavern, and left." The taverner, introduced as Peter, busied himself picking up after departing customers. "I'm having Hanrey's things stored until he sends for them."

"And he told you he is riding to the citadel," Baldwin asked.

"That's what he said. He's going to Taniel." The fellow faced them, his fingers full of tankards. "You fetched her, didn't you?" His eyes flicked between the two wizards. "She's safe at Eighalh?"

Sam saw little point in evasion. "There is the chance she came here."

"Have you seen her?" Baldwin snapped.

"No," said Peter, his surprise obvious. "Hanrey should have waited. I told him." He grimaced and shook his head. "I've got nothing more for you. I'll be rid of these." Hoisting the empty tankards, he left the common room without begging leave.

Sam felt the truth of the man's words. Even if she had come home, Bartle would hide her presence – easily done with an invisible girl. In his shoes, he would have done the same.

Sam caught Baldwin's eye and jerked his head to the door. "Damn, damn, damn," he muttered all the way out to the street. "Well, Master Wizard, what do you suggest we do now?"

His second-in-command had not been short on advice during the ride down from the Watchward. The wizard seemed fixated on the proper way to handle the Notary's seal rubbing. Sam soon regretted letting him examine the paper for Baldwin's eagle eye had noted the date.

Baldwin took his arm and propelled him away from the tavern doorway. "Grandmaster, I don't believe Bartle has the girl, but we should go after that letter. I suggest dragons."

Shrugging off the hand, Sam stared at Baldwin. His annoyance increased in the face of Baldwin's thoughtful calm. "Excellent idea. I shall summon a pair of Eighalh greens, at once." After mind speaking the request to the Eighalh dragonhold, Sam strode towards the road junction. "We'll hail us a cart. I'm not walking up that blasted hill again." He would wait for a ride, even if it took what was left of the day.

From behind, Baldwin nagged about wax seals and missed opportunities, again.

Sam ignored him. His head hurt.

"Grandmaster, why do you think Bartle has the girl?"

Sam's leather skirts bashed the backs of his boots as he stopped abruptly to face his tormentor. "Well, it seems obvious, with him taking off like he did. I gave him a portal pass, yet he chooses to ride all that way."

His mindpath buzzed. "The greens wait," Sam said, eyeing the steep climb. "There's never a damned cart when you want one." He tugged on his sleeves.

"The dragons can come down here, to us," Baldwin suggested. "That paddock will do."

Sam forced a grin. Why had he not thought of that?

Baldwin's thoughts smirked from his smug facade.

Sam weighed the precariousness of his position. An efficient Grandmaster Wizard would not crumple under personal pressure. He would not give his son house arrest in lieu of a dungeon cell. To cover his sudden chagrin, he fiddled as he unfastened the front of his skirt to reveal his riding pants underneath.

The large green dragons landed in the empty paddock.

Amid excited yells, wide-eyed children poured out of nearby homes and lined the fence. Others hung out of windows.

Before the wizards mounted, Sam passed the charcoal rubbing to Baldwin. "Here, find out what you can," he said.

From the pleasure on Baldwin's face, it had been a good move. Mindful of the audience, Sam was not pleased with his ungainly struggle to get astride the green beast. At least Baldwin fared no better.

The children whistled and waved as the dragons took to the air. Sam saluted the unruly mob.

He urged the dragon to follow the north road. The taverner could not have ridden far. Nevertheless, he reasoned, as the road to Ferryton flashed below them, if the girl was with her father, then the citadel would not be their destination of choice.

They could be anywhere.

Sam rubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands. His day had gone from rough to diabolical, and it was not yet done with him.

He would surely miss dinner, too.

***

8 April 2017 - replaced with revised scene

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