Malediction (Scars of the Sundering Book 1) (8 page)

Kale's
chipper attitude in the rain did not help Delilah's outlook. Even as she stood
shivering, Kale reminded her he felt comfortable. The only glimmer of joy she
found was that the dwarf resembled a drowned rat. His beard clumped together in
strands, and he stopped every few hours to wring it out. Still, Edric uttered
no word of complaint, and Delilah looked to Pancras to share her misery.

His cloak
was not quite large enough to cover him. The minotaur shuffled with slumped
shoulders, as though the rain-soaked robes he wore were weighted down with all
the world's worries. Water dripped from his snout as he moved forward like an
automaton, and Delilah was no longer certain that being covered up in this
dreadful weather was beneficial.

Nighttime in
the rain was worse than day, when at least walking helped keep the cold from
seeping into their bones. By the fourth day, no one spoke; it took too much
effort and distracted them from concentrating on ignoring their misery.

That
afternoon, pinpoints of light appeared on the horizon and remained there as
they continued following the road. Pancras perked up and stepped up the pace,
leading them onward.

"Finally!
Do you see it?" Pancras pointed toward the outline of a building which
appeared from the mist. Delilah wiped the rain from her eyes and squinted,
trying to make out details.

"Is
that a farm?"

Edric looked
back at her. "It's an inn, lass. We've reached the river."

"At
last, a reprieve from this gods'-cursed rain!" Pancras trotted toward the
inn. "We're almost halfway to Almeria now!"

The inn was
a blocky, two-story, L-shaped building. A separate structure sat across a
central plaza and served as stables. Delilah observed two carts in front of the
stables and a man dashing toward the main building, his head ducked and covered
under a long coat. Torches flanking the doors sputtered and smoked in the rain.
A sign flapped in the wind above the door, its rusty hinges creaking in
protest. Delilah did not understand the writing on it. She figured it was
written in either the common trade language or an Etrunian dialect, neither of
which she had learned to read while she practiced speaking the trade language
with Pancras.

The din of
conversation was audible through the mullioned windows, although the constant
noise of water falling, pooling, splashing, and running drowned out
intelligible conversation. Pancras stopped in front of the door, and looked
back at them, his hand poised over the handle. He nodded and opened the door.

The aroma of
roasted meat mingled with burning wood and sweat from men in heavy woolen
cloaks. The hearth crackled and sputtered at one end of the room. A frail man
with the barest wisps of hair stood bent over, tending the fire. Opposite the
hearth, was a long bar built from sturdy oak. A younger, lanky man stood behind
the bar, his head turning to regard the newcomers.

As the four
travelers entered the inn, the myriad conversations halted. Heads turned, and
Delilah felt dozens of eyes staring, judging. She smelled their fear.

The man
behind the bar swallowed and placed the mug he had been cleaning on the bar. He
gripped the edge of the bar with white-knuckled hands. "Your kind ain't
welcome here. We don't want any trouble."

"That's
good," Pancras pulled out a small bag from his pouch and tossed it up and
down in his hand to emphasize the coins inside. "We're not looking for
trouble, just shelter. As to our kind, you would turn away paying
customers?"

Pancras was
more diplomatic than Delilah would have been. She felt like torching the whole
building just for their attitude. Then again, her way would have them sleeping
out in the rain again. The man standing behind the bar scowled and rubbed his
chin. He looked around the room, as if looking to the other patrons for advice.

"The
dwarf can have a room. The rest of ya’s stay in the stable."

Delilah
huffed and tapped the butt of her staff on the floor. "We're not animals,
you stupid, skinny, son-of-a-bitch!"

The barkeep
glanced at her, confusion on his face. Delilah's outburst had been in Drak, and
it was obvious he had no idea what she said. Pancras understood her, though,
and placed a hand on her shoulder.

"We are
emissaries from Drak-Anor, on our way to Muncifer." Pancras spoke slowly,
as if to a child. "We do not wish special treatment, just the same
accommodations any other patron of this fine establishment enjoys. We want
rooms with beds, and we will want to eat hot meals. It is cold outside. We're
just travelers, like everyone else here, I suspect."

"You'll
kill us in the night!" One of the disheveled men shouted from across the
room. "You'll suck the marrow from our bones!"

Fire burned in
Delilah's belly. Her thoughts turned toward summoning a swarm of boggins to
devour the rude man. The small furry balls of teeth and hate would make short
work of him and everyone else in the room. Pancras squeezed her shoulder.

"We are
neither oroqs nor ogres. We don't eat people."

Her brother
leaned in close and spoke out of the side of his mouth. "Bargle
does." Delilah kicked him but was glad Kale's whisper was in Drak.

A younger
man, seated alone near the bar, cleared his throat. "Let them stay, Josef."

"Quiet,
Ivan. They're beasts. They should stay with the beasts." The barkeep spit
on the floor for emphasis.

"They're
customers, with money. I took a caravan up to Drak-Anor last year. Remember?
The old ways are changing." He pushed his chair away from the table and
stood. "I'll give up my room if I must."

Josef looked
down at his bar and shook his head. "I can't put your wife out in the
rain. She's with child. It's not right."

"Exactly.
Josef, it's going to be a harsh winter." Ivan stepped up to the bar and
placed his hand on the barkeep's arm. "Don't turn away the coin."

The older
man shook his head. "Fine." He wrinkled his nose, the corners of his
mouth turned downward at the dripping-wet travelers. "Let's see this
money. I'm not taking any of your scrip."

* * *

Kale watched
as Pancras dropped a handful of coins into the barkeep's outstretched hands.
Relieved to be near a source of hot nourishment, his stomach rumbled as the
aromas of roasting meat wafted across the room. The constant rain made building
a fire outside difficult, if not impossible, and although he never felt as
uncomfortable in the wet cold as everyone else seemed to be, it would be nice
to be indoors once again.

Ivan pulled
extra chairs to his table and beckoned for the travelers to join him as he sat.
Kale took Delilah by the arm and motioned for her sit next to him. Edric sat
between Delilah and Ivan, and Pancras took the seat on the other side of Kale
between him and the human.

Relieved his
sister wasn't looking at him, Kale winced as he sat. The pain in his back
transformed into a distinct, localized stabbing sensation by the time they
arrived at the inn. He didn't remember hurting his back in the fight against
the ghouls or the shadow demon. Kale worried the pain could be related to his
passing through the chaos rift rather than from hitting the wall.

He focused
on maintaining a neutral expression as the innkeeper brought a round of ale to
their table.

"Can't
believe I'm reduced to taking money from draks and minotaurs to make it through
the winter." He sat the tray down on the table hard enough to slosh frothy
ale over the sides of the mugs.

Delilah
grabbed a mug. "Then don't take our money and serve us for free."

"Our
money spends just as well as money from humans." Pancras slid several
silver talons toward the innkeeper.

Ivan
distributed the rest of the ale to Edric and Kale. "You mentioned you were
travelers? From where? Do you have any news?"

"No
news. We're from Drak-Anor heading to Muncifer on business." Pancras
brought the mug of ale up to his mouth and sniffed it before taking a sip.
"I confess, I am a little curious if you've even heard of Drak-Anor?"

Ivan nodded.
"Heard of, yes, but we don't hear much. It's in the mountains, right? Near
Ironkrag? I've never been that far away from home. We heard it used to be a
fiery demon's lair, full of torture and other evil things like that and that
some hero came by and freed all the slaves." He raised his eyebrows as he
looked around the table at Pancras and the drak twins. "The stories didn't
say the slaves were all minotaurs, draks, and dwarves, though."

Delilah
laughed and retorted. Kale nudged her, spilling her ale. She glared at him as
she shook ale off her fingers.

Taking a
long swig of his ale, Edric smacked his lips and wiped froth from his mouth.
"My people fought with them all the time, and even we don't hear such
piles of horse shit."

Pancras
tapped his finger on the table. "Tales often grow in scope and nature the
further from the source they're told. It would be more accurate to say that we
draks and minotaurs of Drak-Anor threw down our own oppressors. We trade with
Ironkrag and Celtangate now, so don't believe everything you hear."

A beanpole
woman delivered a steaming kettle to the table and tossed half a dozen bowls at
them. "Eat up. The rabbit's fresh from today." She turned and left.
Kale heard her mutter under her breath. "Probably."

Kale stood
on his chair and peered into the bowl. It was a thick brown sludge with hunks
of meat and white and orange vegetables in it. He grabbed a bowl from the table
and plunged it into the kettle and then passed the bowl to Delilah. She took
the bowl from him and handed him an empty one. He got a bowl for himself and slid
the stack of empty bowls to Pancras.

Ivan snapped
his fingers to capture Josef's attention. "Bread? Spoons? Anything?"

Kale didn't
bother to wait for bread or spoons. He picked up his bowl and slurped the stew
down. He didn't know if the meat was rabbit, like the woman said, but didn't
know what a rabbit was anyway. Kale was surprised the stew didn't seem hot to
him, despite the steaming drifting up from the kettle.

"Slow
down, Kale." Delilah grabbed his arm. "You can't be that
hungry."

"I
am!" Kale scarfed down a second bowl. As he reached to refill his bowl a
third time, he noticed his hands trembling. Heat rushed to his head, and the
food in his stomach felt like piles of wet clay. Pushing himself away from the
table, Kale lost his balance and fell backward. As Delilah and Pancras stood to
help him, Kale scrambled away and ran out of the inn into the rain.

Cool rain
pelted his skin, turning to steam as the drops beaded up and ran down his arms.
He fell to his knees and retched, spewing the now-boiling remains of his dinner
onto the ground. Kale felt hands grab him from behind, but with a yelp of pain,
he was dropped to the ground again.

"He's
burning up!" The voice belonged to Pancras. Kale shut his eyes and tried
to quell the knotting, twisting sensations in his gut. He sensed someone
kneeling next to him in the mud and cracked an eye to see Delilah peering at
him. The worry etched on her face confirmed that he appeared as horrible as he
felt.

"Here
now, I'll not have your plague in this inn." Josef's voice came from
behind Kale. "We need our health to get us through winter preparations.
Take your vile sickness away from here."

Kale turned
and looked back at the innkeeper. Josef tightly gripped Edric's collar and
tossed the dwarf out in the rain. "All of you!"

* * *

Pancras
removed his cloak and wrapped it around Kale. The stinging rain chilled him to
the bone, and he cursed the gods for making the outside so miserable. He helped
the drak to his feet and pulled him toward the stables.

"What
are we going to do, Pancras?" Delilah followed behind him, and Edric
trotted after them.

"We're
staying out here for the night." He paused to pull open the stable door
and ushered Delilah and Edric inside before entering with Kale. "We'll
continue toward Almeria tomorrow, provided your brother is well enough."
Pancras pulled the door closed.

"You
think they'll mind us staying in here?" Edric wrung out his beard.
"They all think the drak has some sort of plague."

Kale coughed
and looked up at them. "I feel much better now, really. I'm hungry,
though."

Pancras
looked around the stable. The horses shuffled with nervous energy, stomping and
snorting, unhappy about these strangers in their midst. The thatched roof kept
the rain out, and the patter of the water hitting the roof created a relaxing
roar. A flash of light flooded the room, followed by the booming peal of
thunder.

"At
least the rain will keep them from following us." Pancras sat down on the
ground next to Kale. The rainwater was no longer steaming off the drak.

"You
hope." Edric pulled the door open a crack and peered outside. "If
these humans get it in their head we're dangerous, they're going to come after
us with torches and pitchforks. Mark my words."