Hava said suddenly, ‘I’ve seen him before.’
‘Keep your voice down!’
Hava silently chided herself for letting a moment of surprise break her discipline.
Molly asked, ‘Who?’
‘The man who just arrived was at the inn two days ago seeking a room. Hatu said the repairs were not quite finished and sent him off.’
Since the Inn of the Three Stars was still under repair, travellers were often referred to other quarters, to smaller inns and several farmers’ barns. Their inn should be in a good enough state to allow travellers a place to stay by tomorrow, Hatu had told her.
‘Do you know him?’ whispered Molly.
‘Just a traveller. I didn’t pay attention after he asked about a room.’
Molly said, ‘They’re getting ready.’
‘Yes, but for what?’
‘To leave, look.’ She pointed to where the riders were inspecting their horses, tightening girths, checking bridles, ensuring saddle packs were secure, before starting their return journey.
Hava said, ‘We should go,’ and began to creep upslope.
Molly moved in beside her and after they’d crested a ridge and were heading towards Beran’s Hill down a gentle slope, Molly said, ‘What do you suppose all that was?’
‘Nothing good,’ said Hava.
‘Should we tell Declan?’
‘Tell him what? That a man escorted by soldiers disguised as mercenaries met a man who came into town a couple of days ago and has been …’ Hava shrugged. ‘What? Sneaking around town?’
Almost as one, they both said, ‘We should tell Declan.’
Hava said, ‘You tell him when we get back. He knows you better and I need to …’ She almost said ‘warn Hatu’ but caught herself. ‘… let Hatu know to be careful with those two should they come by the inn.’
They continued on until Hava realized she knew where they were, just as sound from the town drifted to them on the afternoon wind. As they neared, Hava made out the sounds of a hammer and smiled.
HATUSHALY PAUSED TO WIPE PERSPIRATION off his forehead and then resumed hammering another hardwood shingle into the supporting board. Summer was approaching and the days were getting hotter, especially when spent up on the roof of the inn. He and two workers he had hired were finishing all the repairs started by Declan Smith after raiders had tried to burn down the Inn of the Three Stars.
He’d purchased it from Gwen, the previous owner’s daughter, the week before. He and Hava had discussed it at length before they made the offer. Hava had grown to like Gwen, who was to wed Declan, the smith. He had become Hatu’s first ‘friend’ in this town.
Hatu leaned back and caught his breath. The work was not exhausting, but it had been a week of very long days, up before dawn, engaging in tasks that challenged what he knew of several crafts; like most students from Coaltachin, he had spent time being exposed to many skills, for the most part to provide believable stories while acting as an agent for Coaltachin, but he was a master of none of them. This restoration had taught Hatu just how much he didn’t know about carpentry, masonry, and other building trades.
He surveyed the town of Beran’s Hill, taking the time to actually look at the sprawling, growing community. It still felt new to him, as the longest he had lived in any one place had been the school where he had first met Hava and their lost friend Donte, and he sensed his perspective on this place and the people who lived here was changing.
He was playing the part of a new husband and innkeeper, a first as either. He had trained all his life to be a member of the Quelli Nascosti, the secret assassins of Coaltachin, but in fact all of that had been a front contrived to keep him hidden from his true family’s enemies.
Hatu’s real name was Sefan Langene, so Baron Daylon’s body servant Balven had told him. He was the son of a dead king. That made Hatu king in name as well, except there was no kingdom, save one of ashes and ruin on the far side of this continent. As a baby, Hatu had been given over to Master Facaria to be raised as ‘one of his own’, and the baron hadn’t realized that didn’t mean raised in the relative safety of a castle somewhere, surrounded by guards and retainers. One of the older masters, a one-time member of the Council of Masters of Coaltachin, Facaria had indeed raised Hatu as if he had been one of his own children. It had been a difficult, violent and dangerous upbringing. Hatushaly had been reared to become a warrior, crew boss, even master assassin and spy for the Kingdom of Night, as Coaltachin was known. The irony of the dangers he’d faced growing up were not lost on him. Still, it all made sense in a convoluted way; Hatu considered himself as safe as he was ever likely to be, as there were few better students in combat than he.
He almost laughed at his situation, for if he remained a simple innkeeper and kept his hair coloured as a precaution, he was probably as safe as any man in the Barony of Marquensas. Short of being overcome by some mad desire to reclaim his lost heritage, he could spend the rest of his life in relative peace, assuming that his former masters didn’t order his ‘wife’ to kill him. That did cause him to laugh aloud and wonder what more convoluted fate awaited him as he returned to work.
He loved Hava more than he could say, for his schooling had taught little about matters of the heart. He had loved her his whole life but had only recognized that recently. She had always been there for him, a calming presence at the worst times in his childhood, an anchor to keep him from spinning off in rages, the one person who understood him, perhaps better than he understood himself. He also knew she loved him, but the question was: did she love him enough to ignore orders from her masters to leave him or, worse, to kill him? Only time would tell.
He finished a section of the roof and stood up to regard his work and found it apparently sufficient – at least until the next rain, at which time his mistakes would reveal themselves. Then he lifted his eyes and saw Hava and Molly emerging from the woods on the other side of a field. Neither seemed burdened with game, so he wondered if they’d simply not found any, or had used hunting as an excuse for Hava not working.
He doubted the latter, for avoiding work wasn’t in her nature, though he knew she disliked carpentry and the general clean-up the inn required. As game was reputedly plentiful this time of year in the forest nearby, he assumed something else had arisen and that made him curious. He stepped higher up the roof ridge and waved as Hava and Molly cut across the fallow field. Hava spied him and returned the wave.
By the time he had climbed down the ladder, Hava had reached the back gate to the stabling yard. ‘Anyone inside?’ she asked.
‘No,’ answered Hatu. ‘Samuel is on his way to Declan’s to get another bucket of nails.’ He wiped his forehead. ‘And we’re almost done.’
She motioned him to follow her inside. ‘Where’s Roary?’
‘Something to do with helping his mother do something at her shop. He’ll be back in an hour.’
Hava glanced around the now-restored common room of the Inn of the Three Stars. The day before they’d moved casks of ale, barrels of wine, bottles of wine, and whisky, into storage. They had also stocked the kitchen, which was why the roof was not quite finished. Hatu was determined that by tomorrow they would once again be open for business.
‘You know that fellow who came around the day before yesterday – dark hair, tall, looking for a room? The one you sent over to Jacob’s barn?’
‘Yes. Why?’
Hava recounted what she and Molly had observed, and when she finished Hatu said, ‘Sounds like something we may need to report to the masters.’
‘Almost certainly. Who will go?’
Hatu said, ‘It will have to be me.’
Hava’s frown indicated that she didn’t understand why that was the case, so Hatu continued, ‘Haven’t you noticed? None of the women here, except for Molly Bowman, travel alone.’
‘Odd, isn’t it?’ asked Hava.
‘I gave up trying to understand why people do a lot of things since we started travelling with the masters,’ said Hatu softly.
Hava nodded. ‘What will you tell them?’
By ‘them’, she meant the masters who would receive his report.
‘I think I’ll wait a day or two and see if that fellow and the man you said he met reveal anything.’ He glanced around the almost-finished common room and said, ‘I think we were fortunate to have chosen this business. I can’t imagine a better place in Beran’s Hill to have information come to us.’
Hava nodded. ‘I’m not sure how we’ll do as an innkeeper and wife, but if those are the roles we need to play, so be it.’
Hatu smiled, slipped his arm around her, and gave her a slight hug. ‘I’m enjoying the wife part.’
She pushed him away with mock disdain. ‘None of that until you’ve bathed. You reek.’
He laughed. ‘It was hot up on that roof.’ With a sigh, he added, ‘But I’m not quite done yet, and those shingles will not attach themselves.’
‘Off you go then,’ Hava said with a smile. ‘And do bathe before tonight.’ She looked him up and down slowly. ‘You still need more practice in bed.’
He raised his eyebrows in mock shock. ‘Practice?’
‘You’re almost competent as a lover but your technique needs work,’ she said, turning her back and disappearing into the kitchen before he could respond.
Chuckling to himself, Hatu climbed back up the ladder. This roof would be finished before the evening meal. Then all that was left was to hang the sign above the door. He returned to where he had been, knelt and picked up a shingle, hammer, and nails, and resumed his labour.
MOLLY FINISHED SHARING WHAT SHE and Hava had seen with Declan, who silently listened. For a long moment he considered what she had told him and then said, ‘That does sound like something to fret over.’
Molly nodded. ‘They weren’t ordinary soldiers. They were guardsmen or something like that.’
Declan nodded. He had seen enough men-at-arms pass through Oncon, the village where he had been raised, to appreciate what Molly meant. Household, honour guards, castellans, all tended to be the most accomplished of soldiers, and to see a company of such dispatched on an escort mission indicated that the person they escorted was of some consequence.
‘Where can I get a glimpse of these fellows?’
‘I think Jacob’s barn is where the one fellow who was here slept, or maybe one of the other inns? Though Hava’s inn is supposed to open again tomorrow. Maybe there?’
‘I’ll ask Gwen. She’s over there now inspecting the place for Hatu and Hava …’ He let the words trail off. Staring out of the large open door of his blacksmith shop, he finally said, ‘She’s still in mourning. She holds it in well, maybe too well. The tears were there at first, but …’ He looked concerned. ‘I think perhaps she’s trying too hard to be strong, you know?’
‘I know,’ said Molly. Though she was usually a woman of few words, she added, ‘Once you get her with child, things will change.’
Declan fought against smiling at the thought of children but couldn’t help it. His life had taken some unexpected turns since his own childhood and he wondered how he had been so fortunate.
‘If you find those men let me know,’ Molly said. ‘I’m curious.’ Without another word, she left the forge, leaving Declan alone with his thoughts.
Since returning from a visit with Baron Dumarch, Declan had informed everyone in town that he was authorized to organize a militia. Over the weeks since then, the able-bodied men of Beran’s Hill had organized a spot of training here and there. Some grudgingly, some enthusiastically, but all understanding that since the raid on the town by a mercenary named Tyree and his band, who had burned the Inn of the Three Stars, killed Gwen’s father, and abducted two women, it was necessary – and each man serving who didn’t miss training received a few coins, which tipped the balance.
As a result, Declan found himself more and more inclined to think of himself as the party responsible for town defence, even though the baron’s authorization of a militia was vague in terms of organization and mandate. The arrival of this mysterious man, escorted by elite troops, fully reinforced that sense of responsibility. It made him curious as to who the two men were and what they were about.
HATU FELT REFRESHED AFTER BATHING. His hair was still damp – and he had used the hair dye he had bought in Marquenet to keep the bright red toned down to a brownish red that was almost as dark as Hava’s. Given his upbringing, regular bathing never occurred to him, but as he had a proper bathhouse just outside the rear entrance to the inn, he planned on using it regularly – once a week, perhaps more often.
Gwen’s father had owned the Inn of the Three Stars, and she had literally been born here. Hatu and Hava stood quietly waiting for Gwen’s judgement.
Gwen surveyed the common room and nodded. Her eyes had a slight sheen to them, but no tears. Softly she said, ‘Better than new. Da had some fixin’ he never quite got around to, and the old bar was roughly used.’ She nodded towards the highly polished, massive oak bar. ‘Splinters, stains from spills, cracks here and there. This one’s … beautiful.’
Hatu smiled. The two women stood in stark contrast to one another, Gwen voluptuous, not quite stocky, and Hava with her slender, not quite boyish figure. He recognized that most men would find Gwen more attractive, yet to him Hava was the most perfect beauty he’d ever seen.
‘Before I began travelling with Hava and her father, I was apprenticed for a time to a boatbuilder. He showed me how to seal wood and put a finish on it …’ Hatu said to Gwen, who let out a long sigh.
After a short pause, Gwen asked, ‘You two ready?’
‘Not really,’ said Hatu jokingly.
Hava said, ‘We’d be helpless without you, Gwen. When we agreed to buy the inn and repair it … let’s say there’s a lot more to running an inn than either of us imagined. How to stock the supplies, and what keeps and what doesn’t, which ale to buy …’ She fell silent a moment, then added, ‘Just so much.’
Hatu nodded agreement. ‘Had I known, I might have changed my mind.’ He kept his tone light.
Gwen appeared to him to be on the verge of tears, but she took a deep breath, slowly let it out, and smiled. ‘No use pretending things aren’t as they are.’ She crossed her arms and looked at Hava. ‘Whatever you need to know, ask. Da was a good man in many ways, but in truth he could be lax when it came to keeping the cold cellar stocked, or ensuring fresh vegetables. We had our share of nights serving meats that hadn’t quite turned, hard cheese, boiled potatoes, and day-old bread.’ She took another long look around the room, slowly turning as she added, ‘Some things you can buy easily, but others …’ She again let out a sigh. ‘You’ll manage as long as you don’t run out of ale, wine, and whisky, but a well-stocked larder and clean beds will have the regular travellers always stopping here.’ She smiled. ‘Adding those two new rooms upstairs was … Da talked of more rooms for travellers, but never quite got around to it. Too much interest in finding the perfect whisky.’
Hatu nodded. ‘That whisky takes a bit of getting used to.’
Gwen laughed, for the first time since Hava and Hatu had met her. ‘Did Declan give you that first taste?’
Hatu nodded, and tears gathered in Gwen’s eyes. Then she laughed again, squeezing her eyes so the tears fell – but they were those of joy. ‘My father did that to him, leaving him to swallow that first taste without warning. The coughing and watery eyes, red face, and the rest seems an odd rite of passage, but there it is.’ She took another deep breath and said, ‘Now you have a legacy to carry on, Hatu.’ Then she turned and left. Hatu thought it was before he saw her weep in earnest.
‘I’ll do my best,’ Hatu said softly.
After she left, Hava said, ‘I find it strange.’
‘What?’
‘Having feelings … for a place.’ She shrugged. ‘I don’t think I understand.’
‘It’s all she knows. Her parents both died here.’ Hatu reflected for a second that he had never known his parents, so he could barely imagine what it must feel like to have such bonds of affection. ‘I guess that leaves … memories? It seems important to her that this inn returns to what it was.’
‘Which is a good thing for us,’ admitted Hava. Looking around the empty common room she added, ‘There are too many things we know nothing about …’ She chuckled. ‘More things we never could have foreseen.’
‘Bedding,’ said Hatu, and Hava broke out laughing. ‘Wouldn’t it have been wonderful to welcome our first traveller and have no place for him to sleep?’
‘Well,’ said Hava, ‘what about …?’ She left the question unspoken, knowing he’d understand.
‘Let’s see what they do in the next few days. I can always claim to need something down in Marquenet.’
She nodded agreement and the two of them set to work on those tiny details neither had anticipated. After the sun set, Hatu spent a quiet evening with Hava talking about mostly unimportant things – not having to constantly confront life-and-death issues was welcome – before she fell asleep in his arms.
Hatu had never been one to chase every girl he saw, unlike his friend Donte, and it had been Donte who had paid a barmaid to initiate Hatu into sex. Since being with Hava he had felt no desire for other women; he could admire them, admit they were attractive, even have a passing thought that he might have been interested had Hava not existed, but Hava was his world.
It was a love he could hardly understand, let alone explain. He knew she cared for him too, but he had lingering doubts that she was able to feel for him what he felt for her. One moment it was because he felt unworthy of her, and the next it was because of how she was trained to deal with men. And at other times he had no idea how she felt. Neither of them was prone to speaking of feelings, as it was not the way of Coaltachin. He had been taught that feelings could interfere with duty and as a result, he had rarely mentioned to the woman he loved – who now lay tightly against him, slowly breathing as she slept – how he felt; not since his first protestation of love. And she had spoken of feelings even less than he.
Was he still serving the Kingdom of Night, and didn’t know it, or was he to be a simple innkeeper until fate demanded otherwise of him? Or was he a prince of a fallen kingdom with duties and obligations to that heritage he couldn’t remember, let alone understand? As sleep began to overtake him, he wondered which part of his life now was an act and which was real?
Questions without answers swirled around his head as he finally drifted off to sleep.
THE NEXT DAY SAW THE hanging of the repaired and repainted sign, a black square edged with white, with three stars set at the top and lower left and right.
Gwen nodded her approval. ‘I wasn’t going to say anything, but I was worried you might wish to change the name.’
Hava put her arms around Gwen’s shoulders and squeezed. She felt no genuine urge to comfort the daughter of the former owner, but she knew it was the sort of gesture people in this part of the world expected.
‘There was no good reason to change it, Gwen,’ said Hatu. ‘It’s a familiar name, with a good reputation built by your father.’ A slight nod of approval from Hava led him to add, ‘Now all we have to do is live up to it.’
Gwen smiled. ‘Thank you.’
‘Bring Declan over this evening and the first meal is on us.’
Gwen grinned and headed back to the house behind the forge where Declan was working.
Hava said, ‘Well, we are now innkeepers.’
‘Given some of the places you and I have slept, this is a palace.’
‘Never seen a palace,’ replied Hava, ‘but I agree it’s better than most of the inns we’ve seen.’
They went back inside. ‘I guess now we just need some customers,’ Hatu said.
‘I’ve made a list of a few things,’ said Hava, holding out her hand.
Hatu removed the coin purse from his belt and handed it to her. ‘Such as …?’
‘A loaf of bread, and some of those beef sausages Parter the Butcher sells.’
‘We already—’ Hatu interrupted himself. ‘Ah, yes, of course.’ He knew she was going out to sniff around about the man who’d arrived yesterday with the escort of soldiers. The baker they used was close, but the butcher she mentioned was on the other side of town. As she was the ‘new woman’ in town, the other women were interested enough in Hava to want to stop her and ‘gossip’. Hatu wasn’t sure what the difference was between gossip and rumours, but he assumed it was something the women of this barony did, or just another word for the same thing. Either way, it was useful for gathering intelligence on odd comings and goings.
Hava left and Hatu suddenly felt abandoned. He found that very odd, then realized that it wasn’t so much abandonment, but that with Hava here he had someone to talk to, something to do. Now he found himself presented with two choices: either sit and do nothing while waiting for a customer or repeat every inventory check, room inspection, and the other tasks he had seen to repeatedly over the last two days. For the first time in his memory, Hatu found himself wide awake with nothing obviously needing to be done. He found the situation wryly amusing. Most of his life had consisted of studies, work, or trying to sleep. He moved behind the newly restored bar and once again familiarized himself with his array of bottles and kegs. In coming to learn the innkeeper’s trade, he realized that the previous owner, Leon, had stocked a wider variety of wine, spirits, and ale than most tavern keepers. It had not occurred to him to ask Gwen about that, and his best surmise was that it would attract travellers with varying tastes.
Well, he thought, best take advantage of the opportunity to rest. Hatu moved to a chair at the table closest to the open end of the bar and sat down. After a moment, he reached forward, pulled another chair out and put his feet on it.
HATU WAS DOZING WHEN HAVA returned. He sat up and pushed away the chair on which he had placed his feet. ‘Sleeping?’ she said, obviously amused.
‘No,’ he said. ‘Just resting my eyes a little.’ Coming to full alertness as she put the bread and large sausage on the bar, he asked, ‘Discover anything?’
‘Nothing important, though we seem to be the subject of some speculation, as we appear exotic to our neighbours.’
‘Well,’ said Hatu. ‘We are from about as far away from Marquensas as anyone is likely to be. I’ve seen a few travellers pass through here that are darker-skinned than you, but no one who lives here.’
‘They’re a fair-skinned lot around here, aren’t they?’ Hava sat in the chair opposite Hatu. ‘There is some talk that the number of travellers has gone up recently. Just a sense there’s something going on out there that is causing more travellers than usual to pass through town.’
‘Business?’ asked Hatu.
‘The merchants are happy: they’re selling more. Declan’s busy repairing gear and horseshoes and the like.’ She fell silent for a moment, considering. ‘It’s the … type of people who are passing I … I think we need mention to …’ Reflexively, she glanced around to make sure no one could overhear, but of course the only two people in the building were Hatu and herself. ‘When we send that message, we should make it clear that bands of armed men seem to be moving towards Port Colos. And some of the trade goods … Barons Dumarch and Bavangine aren’t the only ones having weapons made. Armour, swords, who knows what else in those tarp-covered wagons.’
Hatu nodded. ‘If you care to make notes, I’ll memorize them and pass them along.’
‘When are you going to Marquenet?’
‘Next week or the week after, I’m thinking.’ He stood up. ‘If we don’t have a customer soon, I think I’ll …’ He shrugged. ‘I don’t know what I’ll do.’
‘You have never known how to simply sit and … just be!’
He was forced to return her laugh. ‘I suppose so. Donte always knew how to find something fun to do, didn’t he?’
