Aethir - Dewayne M Kunkel Page 0,1

blazed, driving out the cold dampness of the day.

A bar fashioned from rough-hewn planks and old kegs ran the length of the room. Patrons stood along its length drinking from tankards of crudely worked tin. All conversation stopped as D’Yana and Suni entered.

“Well now!” A large man in a stained apron shouted from behind the bar. “Welcome to the Fouled net,” He said with a bow. “The finest inn in all of Parin.” He squeezed his sizable bulk through a narrow opening in the bar and fairly trotted across the room to stand before them. “I am Redeff, owner of this fine hostel.”

“Master Redeff,” Marcos said politely. “We would require three rooms if any are available.”

Redeff’s chest swelled with pride at the title Marcos had bestowed upon him. He indicated an open doorway opposite the hearth. “There be the stairs, take any room you like. With both the weather and water being foul I have no other guests, save these fishermen who come to drink when the seas are too rough to ply their trade.”

Marcos smiled and pressed three gold Talens into the man’s pudgy hand. “See that our mounts are well cared for, they have served us well and are in need of rest.”

Redeff stared in amazement at the coins in his hand and quickly stuffed them into his pants pocket. He looked at Marcos and his eyes widened further, the rosy color of his cheeks fading. “Wou…would you require any thing else?” He stammered unable to look away from Marcos’s eyes.

“A bath and a hot meal,” D’Yana said brushing at the dirt caked onto her clothing.

“Why of course,” Redeff said finally able to break the hold Marcos’s gaze had upon him. “I’ll have water heated at once.”

It was well after nightfall when Casius descended the rickety stairs and entered the smoky haze of the common room. He had soaked in the wooden tub until the skin on his fingers had wrinkled and the hot water had cooled. The grime of the trail was gone from his skin, and even the foulness lingering from the Ma’ul’s power was cleansed.

He rubbed his chin, the skin still burned slightly. He was glad that the Ka’rich given him by Urbas, had proven to be sharp enough to remove the annoying stubble of a beard that had begun to grow these last few weeks. It seemed a lifetime ago when he had been given the small knife. He had traveled much since that day.

At a table by the bar sat Connell and Marcos, the ever-present Suni stood in the corner nearby his eyes flicking from patron to patron. Many of the men were busy finding something in their drinks to stare at as the Anghor Shok’s gaze passed over them.

Grabbing a tankard from the bar, Casius took a seat opposite Connell. He waved his hand to clear a cloud of thick smoke from a pipe Marcos was smoking.

“You certainly look much better,” Connell said in greeting.

Casius took a long pull from the tankard, grimacing at the bitterness of the drink. “Gah!” He exclaimed. “That’s Tart!”

Connell laughed, “People in these parts are a bit hardier than most, they prefer their drink strong and bitter.” Connell drained his tankard and stood. “Come Casius,” he said motioning him to rise. “We’ve had scant opportunity to practice our swordsmanship this last week. We should both hone our skills a bit.”

The last thing Casius wanted to do was swing that damned blade, but from the look Connell gave him he knew there was no way to avoid it. He took another swallow of the bitter ale and stood. “We’ll be back in a while,” He said taking his leave of Marcos.

Marcos exhaled a stream of smoke and smiled around the pipe stem. “Enjoy your training, Connell’s a fine teacher.” He said. “I’ll just sit here and listen to the gossip from the bar. Perhaps I can glean something useful from it.”

“You’ll get nothing more than tall tales told in the hopes of getting a free drink.” Casius said with a grin.

“Possibly,” Marcos replied. “However stories do carry within them a small kernel of truth. The real trick is finding it.”

“Happy kernel hunting then,” Connell said with a grin, pushing Casius towards the door.

“Indeed,” Marcos replied drawing smoke from his pipe.

Connell led Casius outside into the brisk evening air. They passed through the stable and stepped into an empty paddock that was dimly lit by lantern light from an open doorway.

“A bit dark,” Casius commented while tossing his cloak