Pieces of Eight

Chapter 3

By the time the day dawned, gray and chilly and raw, Tehraiza, Cora, and Themba had all been in the saddle for several hours. The trail was half-cleared by those who had come before them, the snow trampled down and brushed aside by dozens of hooves that had ridden ahead of them in the days and hours past. But when that snow re-froze overnight, having lost the warmth of the sun to keep it soft, it hardened into rocky, uneven mounds that the horses' shod feet struggled with. Thus, the trio kept their ride to a walk for the time being.

Tehraiza wished they could go faster; truly, she did. With a scarf wrapped around her neck and tucked into her cloak, she had pulled the hood of her cloak up over her crimson hair and tucked her chin down into the wool of her scarf in an effort to stave off some of the chill. Themba had long ago drawn his hood, and Cora had gone a step further and wrapped her scarf around the lower half of her face. The horses' breath was clouds of vapor streaming from their nostrils, and on occasion, it was blown back by a bitterly-cold wind into their faces. It was the silver lining, Tehraiza thought.

The group was silent as they rode, from the time they exited the forest and found the road until they reached the nearby town of Durna by noon. Altan had parted from them a few minutes prior as they approached the town. He was to fly wide around it, and meet them on the other side of it to continue on with them. The sun was high in the sky, but hiding behind a miserable, bleak, flat, gray cloudscape. It lent them no warmth, comfort, or guidance as they dismounted and crossed a small bridge over a little stream to enter the town.

Once inside the gates, which were two wooden doors set into a stone archway lined with a hip-high rock wall on either side, Tehraiza led them down the broken, buckling cobblestones of the main road. The town was small, and not necessarily poor but far from abundantly wealthy. Most of the people milling about were peasants, dressed in plain clothing a bit threadbare in places and certainly mud-stained. Casting her gaze about critically, Tehraiza appraised and just as quickly disregarded the vast majority of the people around her. They were all mundane, ordinary folk, trying to eek a living out of the land around them. They were not who and what she had come for.

At the end of the main road was the town square. In the center was a set of stocks, mercifully empty for the time being; from there, roads branched out in several different directions, the larger ones cobblestoned and the smaller ones dirt. A man was currently attempting to haul his reluctant mule down one such dirt road, while chickens milled about further down the lane. To his left was what Tehraiza was looking for: the town tavern.

She handed the reins of her horse to Cora without looking back and gathered her skirts in her hands to ascend the wooden steps to the front door of the place. Though it was only lunchtime, the raucous cries of already-intoxicated patrons reached her ears, just as the smell of roasting chicken and potatoes entered her nose. Agilely winding her way through the crowded tables, skewed chairs, and stumbling men, Tehraiza posted up at the bar and waited until the harried-looking maid turned to her and expectantly raised a brow.

"Two beers. Four meals. Two wrapped."

The woman nodded to her and turned back towards the island in the center of the bar; Tehraiza returned to the busy, crowded floor, picking her way through the second half of the crowd until she found what, or who, she was looking for: a tall, powerfully-built man who had somehow managed to squeeze himself into a chair in the corner, back turned to the room, two swords at his waist and a quiver and bow across his back. As Tehraiza approached and sat across from him, he lifted his face free of the shadows. It was heavily scarred, but his yellow-gold eyes were as brilliant as ever.

"Coen."

"Tehraiza."

The man's voice was gravelly and rough, like his ruddy brown hair streaked with gray. Worn short and slicked back, pieces of it were already breaking free and falling onto his forehead. "What can you tell me?" Tehraiza wasted no time on pleasantries, even as she settled in and arranged her clothing around her to be comfortable and warm. They were seated right next to the fire, but also next to a pair of drafty windows.