A Servant Lost (Alys Book #1)

Chapter 28

Making friends had not come quick to Alys in Bexley. Mainly because most of the people she was around were men in the tavern.  The only women who came to the tavern were from a brothel in the area, and they never spoke to Alys.

Not that she would have been very eager to take up time with those women.

Thoren had reminded Alys on more than one occasion that since she did not have a father escort her when they married, she would need a witness to come with her.

That posed a problem, as the only people Alys could imagine asking to do such an honour were Esme and Dimia. But that was impossible, so Alys found herself walking to the orphanage to see if one of the women there would do her the favour.

The women in the orphanage were older than Alys; three of the four were in their mid forties and fifties, and the fifth was much older than that. Whenever Alys was there either visiting or helping out, the women did not talk much; to her or to each other. The children informed Alys that the "Mums" of the orphanage were very solemn and only said enough to keep up the necessary conversations of assigning work and such.

Despite this, one of the women agreed to Alys' request without much convincing on Alys' part. Though the woman did not show any indication of excitement, Alys had a lighter spring in her step as she headed back to the tavern; one less thing to do before the marriage.

Alys entered the tavern and immediately noticed that something was off.

It was quiet. Too quiet for an early evening at the end of the week.

She did a quick scan of the room. Thoren was no where to be seen. There were a few regulars sitting around at their favourite spots and a few new faces dispersed between them.  But what caught her attention was a man sitting alone in the back with a hood pulled over his face. Something about him seemed almost familiar, but she could not place why. It unnerved her, but she shook it off and moved to grab her apron from behind the counter.  She tied it on in a hurry, hoping that Thoren would return from wherever he was as soon as possible; the near-silence in the tavern was eerie and had her on edge.

"Another" one of the regulars sitting at the bar said gruffly as he set his goblet down carelessly in front of himself.  His gruffness no longer phased Alys; if anything, he made her feel safer without Thoren nearby. This man was rough around the edges, but he respected Thoren; if something was off in the tavern – and something definitely was- Alys knew that the man would likely protect her.

"Here you are," she said to the man, placing a frothy goblet in front of him, "Have you happened to see Thoren around?"

"Out back," was the brief, grumbly reply.  Alys felt relief flood through her. Thoren was not that far away then. He was well within ear-shot if she needed him.

With replenished confidence, Alys filled a second goblet with mead and squared her shoulders as she turned herself towards the mysterious stranger in the back. 

This was her job, and her job she would do.

She forced herself to walk towards the man, being careful not to spill any of the mead while keeping her vision partly on the man she was moving towards.  When she was just past half way through the room, the man slowly moved his hand to pull back the hood shadowing his facial features.

Slight, well trimmed bead. Five small golden earrings on one ear. The golden-brown eyes piercing into hers.

Alys stopped in her tracks and felt the goblet slip out of her fingers. It fell to the floor at her feet, splashing the cool mead up her skirt and across the floorboards and smashing into pieces.