Lusam: The Dragon Mage Wars Book One (20 page)

Renn entered the inn via the main entrance facing the market square. His eyes quickly adjusting to the dimly lit interior. The room was larger than he would have guessed from outside. It held maybe a dozen large round tables with stools and benches; which provided seating for the many patrons who currently occupied them. A large fire was set in the hearth at the far end of the room, giving off a pleasant smell of pine from the burning wood. Renn instinctively scanned the room for potential threats, but found none. Most looked like they were traders conducting friendly business over a lunchtime ale or two. The low down rumble of quiet conversation quickly fell silent, as one after another of the patrons noticed the strange man now standing in the room.

Renn knew how threatening he must look standing there in his filthy clothes, with a large shield strapped to his
back and a sword at his waist.
He nodded a greeting to the men sitting at the closest table, attempting to lessen the now palpable tension filling the air. If he'd not been on his secret mission to follow the agent of Aamon, he would have worn his sigil of Aysha in plain view around his neck. The sigil was instantly recognizable by anyone in the land of Afaraon, and would have clearly marked him as a paladin of Aysha. Paladins were held in extremely high regard throughout the land, as defenders of Afaraon and its people.

He had no doubt his reception here would have been completely different if he had been wearing his sigil in plain sight. However, he could not risk it becoming common knowledge around Helveel, that a paladin of Aysha was within its walls. If the agent of Aamon heard rumours that a paladin might be here in Helveel, all may be lost, and the last year spent following him would have been for nothing.

Renn slowly approached the counter. The barkeep had already stopped what he was doing, watching nervously as Renn approached. The barkeep cleared his throat and took a step back, placing a freshly dried flagon on the shelf at the back of the bar. Renn knew he was only trying to put himself out of the reach of his sword, just in case he
was
as dangerous as he looked.

“Can I help you?” the barkeep asked, in a calm even tone. Renn was impressed at his ability to hold his nerve, but felt guilty at causing him discomfort.

“I'd like a room please. South facing with a window and a bathtub. A hot meal in my room, and most importantly, some privacy.”

“I'm sorry, we're fully booked at the moment, sir. Maybe the Royal Inn across the street can accommodate you,” the barkeep said nervously.

Renn stared at the man. With each heartbeat the barkeep withered under his gaze. Without breaking eye contact Renn removed his coin pouch, produced a gold coin, and placed it on the counter in front of him. The Barkeep momentarily let his eyes flick to the coin, and Renn could see them instantly light up at the sight of gold. Renn added a second gold coin to the first, then slowly pushed the two gold coins forward on the counter.

“I’m sure you can find a room for me here at your inn. It looks a much better establishment than the Royal Inn across the square,” Renn replied, smiling at the barkeep's new predicament. Did he let this potentially dangerous man stay here and take the two gold coins, or still refuse him, and throw away a weeks worth of money to his competitor across the street?

Renn knew all about human nature, and so knew the answer even before the barkeep spoke a word. “Actually, I think we do have a south facing room available tonight sir, now that I think about it,” he said, licking his lips subconsciously, eyes darting between Renn and the coins
laid out between them.
Renn smiled at the man, pushing the coins to the rear of the counter, then taking a step back to give the man some room.

“Excellent. Thank you,” replied Renn.

For a large man he moved fast to scoop up the gold coins from the counter, then went to the key-hook at the rear of the bar area; always staying out of range of any danger. He lifted a room key from one of the many hooks, then offered it at arms length to Renn across the bar.

“Room seven, on the second floor. I will have the bathtub and food brought to your room shortly. Will that be all sir?” he asked.

“Yes. Thank you for your hospitality,” Renn replied, still smiling at the man standing as far away from him as was possible. He took the key and headed for the stairs to his room. He could feel every eye in the room follow him as he started to climb the staircase. As he turned the corner, out of sight, he paused, and heard the conversations restart again, as if he'd never been there. He chuckled to himself. Renn knew, that given a choice of speculating as to why a heavily armed man had just entered the establishment, or talking about business opportunities and making money, that they would choose the latter and he would be very soon forgotten.

He stopped outside the door marked number seven. It was a heavy dark wooden door, with a good quality lock
and heavy hinges.
People who stayed here obviously viewed security as a priority
, Renn thought. He guessed many traders would frequent these rooms on their way to and from their business dealings, and if they were carrying large sums of coins, they would certainly want well-made doors and locks.

Renn unlocked the door and entered the room. He quickly walked over to the large window, and was relieved to see it offered a fantastic view of not only the inn opposite, but the whole of the market square below. The room offered only basic comforts, but it was clean and well maintained. There was a single wardrobe, two wooden dining chairs and a small table. The bed was a large four post bed with a small cabinet at each side, and an oil filled lamp on each. He looked at the large comfortable looking bed with regret, knowing he would be spending the night in a chair by the window, keeping watch, instead of sampling its warmth and comfort.

Renn offered a prayer to Aysha for providing him with his new creature comforts, and the first opportunity in a long time to take a warm bath. He picked up one of the chairs and moved it to the window, then did the same with the small square-top table. He then removed his shield and placed it at the bottom of the bed, and was halfway through unbuckling his sword, when a knock came at the door.

“Enter,” Renn said, loud enough for them to hear at
the other side of the door.
In walked a young boy of about twelve-years-old, carrying a tray of food and drink. He noticed Renn's hand near his sword, and froze to the spot with a look of sheer terror on his face. Renn saw the boy’s reaction, and nodded his head towards the table. “Please put it on the table over by the window,” Renn said, removing his sword belt and tossing it onto the bed. The boy’s eyes followed the sword until it hit the bed, then after several seconds staring at it, he seemed to remember Renn had just spoken to him.

“Oh … yes sir. Sorry, of course,” he stammered, while walking to the table near the window and depositing his tray of food. “Would there be anything else sir?” he asked, backing towards the door, as if he had been trapped in a room with a rabid wolf. Renn couldn't help but laugh at the boy’s nervousness. He removed a silver coin from his pouch and tossed it through the air towards the boy. The boy caught it deftly in mid-air, and his nervousness was instantly replaced with a look of complete joy at receiving a silver coin.

“Nothing else for right now, thanks. I'd like my bathtub and water in about an hour, if you'd be kind enough to inform the barkeep on your way back.”

“Sure thing, sir. Enjoy your food,” he replied, looking a lot happier than when he first arrived.

Renn watched the boy leave and close the door
gently behind himself, before returning to the window seat to enjoy his food.
It was the first hot meal he'd had for many a month, and the smell alone almost made him dizzy. Secretly, he hoped the agent of Aamon would stay at the inn opposite for at least a few days, but the way he had seen him act today, he doubted that would be the case. Something had obviously got his attention, and Renn couldn't see him wanting to lose the scent of whatever he'd been following for most of that day; only time would tell. Renn let out a small sigh, and lost himself in the simple pleasure of his hot food.

It seemed like only a few minutes since he had finished his food, before another knock brought his attention back to the door again.

“Enter,” he said loudly. The door opened, and the same boy brought in a tin bathtub and placed it down in front of the fire. He was followed by three younger boys, all carrying buckets of steaming hot water. The younger boys entered the room, all three of them immediately looking towards the bed, where Renn's sword still lay. The older boy had probably been telling tales to the younger ones, and now they had all seen his “
fabled sword,”
it must mean the rest of his story was also true, whatever that story was.

The three younger boys stood staring open-mouthed at Renn's shield and sword lying on the bed, until the older boy clattered the tin bathtub onto the floor it in front of the fireplace, instantly bringing all three of them
back to reality with a start.
All three visibly jumped at the sudden sound, one even spilling part of the contents of his bucket down himself. Each boy quickly emptied their hot water into the bathtub, then turned to leave the room, none of them daring to look back towards Renn as they left. The older boy stepped back away from the bathtub towards the door behind him, before asking, “Is there anything else you require, sir.”

“No, that will be all thank you. Oh … you can tell me one thing though.”

Looking a little worried, the boy replied, “What's that sir?”

Smiling at the boy, Renn asked, “Was it a good story you told your small friends?” The boy couldn't help himself as a huge grin spread across his face.

“Aye. That it was, sir,” he replied, as he backed out of the room struggling to contain his own amusement. When the door closed Renn couldn't help chuckling to himself either, as he imagined the outrageous stories that must now be spreading like wildfire among the younger employees of the inn.

Removing a small mirror from his pouch, he placed it on the window sill, so it would give him a clear view of the entrance to the inn opposite, while he took his bath. Then he undressed and stepped into the first warm bath he'd had in far too many months. As he sank down into the steaming
hot water, he thanked Aysha once again for allowing him these small luxuries, but knew before long, that his work would recommence in the pursuit of the necromancer; hopefully leading him to the boy-mage known as Lusam.

Chapter Ten

Lusam stirred to the noise of the curtains being drawn back. The light flooded into the room, and a headache, the likes of which he had never known in his life, erupted behind his closed eyelids. He groaned and tried to lift the blankets higher to shield his eyes, but the effort of moving his arms only intensified the pain in his head. The room was far too bright to open his eyes, but he did hear someone pass by the bottom of his bed and leave through the door, before quietly closing it behind them.

Slowly his eyes adjusted to the bright light of the room, and he tentatively opened his eyes to see where he was. The last thing he remembered was trying to heal Lucy, but he couldn't remember if he had succeeded or not. In fact, he couldn't remember much of anything from that day. He tried to sit up in the bed, but again, the slight effort of moving brought on the intense pain in his head once more. Bright spots danced across his vision, and a fresh wave of nausea threatened to overtake him. Lying back and panting through the pain, he managed to steady himself, before attempting to open his eyes again. Deciding against trying to move again, he glanced around the room to take in his surroundings. Realisation hit him like a bolt of lightning: he was in Lucy's bed. That must mean he'd failed in his attempt to save her.

Lusam's heart sank at the thought of what Mr Daffer must be going through right now. He doubted he
could ever look him in the eyes again without feeling guilty for what he had done.
He felt devastated beyond words, and wondered if even Neala could ever forgive him. Unable to face the possibility of losing Neala, he closed his eyes, and tried to shut out the cruel world outside.

He could hear running footsteps coming from the hallway outside the bedroom door, then the door flew open, banging loudly against the wardrobe standing just to the side of it. Lusam was sure Mr Daffer had come to exact his revenge over losing his wife to his failed magic. He couldn't blame him either. He decided at that moment not to resist whatever he did to him. Not that he was in any shape to do so, anyway.

“LUSAM! YOU'RE AWAKE!” shouted a familiar voice. Lusam's head throbbed with every word, but hearing that voice was worth any amount of pain.

“Neala,” he croaked back. Even his voice wouldn't obey his commands; he sounded like he had eaten a bucket full of sand. Before he could even fully open his eyes, Neala had him held tight in her embrace, and was kissing him all over his very tender head. He opened his eyes to find her face very close to his own, with tears rolling down her cheeks.

“I'm sorry Neala. I tried. I really did. I'm so sorry,” he croaked. Neala smiled at him, shook her head slightly, then kissed him on his forehead, before standing up and
moving away from his bedside.
Standing there behind her, was the best sight Lusam could ever have wished to see. “Lucy! You're alive … ”