Ellinwood didn't wait for an answer and opened the door to step inside, waving Magiere and Leesil after him. Chap slipped in last before the door could shut. With pleasant surprise, Magiere found the inside much better cared for than the outside. The wood floor was swept and clean, if a little worn. To the right in the main area, respectable-looking tables were positioned to fit as many as possible, with room enough for the passage of serving staff handing out tankards and bottles. A huge stone fireplace, large enough to crouch in, dominated the end of the room beyond the tables, offering warmth and a welcome.
The bar on the left was long and made of stout oak turned dark and shiny from years of polishing and the oil of patrons' hands as they leaned their way through the evenings. Behind its far end was a curtained doorway that probably led to the household kitchen or stockroom, and beside it was a stairway leading up to the second floor where the living quarters would be.
Overall, the inside was far better than Magiere had hoped. As little as she had paid for it, she'd wondered some nights what she could expect sight unseen. And for some reason she couldn't explain, the hearth was more important to her than anything else. It was sound and looked strong.
"This is perfect," Leesil said, as if he didn't quite believe it. He moved past her, turning around in amazement, running his slim hand over a table as he walked through the room right up to the hearth Magiere was still eyeing. "I'll set up the faro game by the front window nearest the fire. We might have to sacrifice a table or two to make room."
She suddenly noted he had not directed one word or acknowledgment in Ellinwood's direction.
Hearing footsteps, she turned toward the staircase. Descending slowly were an old, stooped man, an old woman, and a little blond girl about five or six years old.
"Oh, there you are, Caleb," Ellinwood said, rubbing his hands, apparently deciding his business here was finished. "These are the new owners. I must get back to work."
He bid Magiere a good day, ignored Leesil, and left.
Uncertain of exactly what was going on, Magiere turned back to the old couple and child. The old man was half a head taller than her, with straight ashen hair pulled back at his neck. His face was wrinkled but smooth of expression, his eyes dark brown and steady. He wore a plain muslin shirt that matched his wife's tan skirt, both clean as the well-swept floor. The old woman was tiny as a sparrow, her hair pulled up in a neat bun.
"We're the caretakers," Caleb said upon seeing Magiere's bewilderment. "This is my wife, Beth-rae, and my granddaughter, Rose."
Chap trotted over to the old lady, who pulled the little girl out of the way. The dog's ears popped up straight as he looked at tiny Rose, his nose reaching out little by little, sniffing, until the child held out a tentative hand.
As a rule, Chap didn't like being petted by anyone but Leesil, and Magiere tensed, ready to reach out and jerk the dog back by the scruff if he growled. But Chap licked at the small fingers and the child giggled as his tail began to switch. Magiere experienced a wave of instant good will toward these three that washed away the bad taste Ellinwood had left.
"Oh, look, Caleb." Beth-rae brushed back a loose strand of gray hair. "They have a dog. Isn't he beautiful?" She leaned down and scratched Chap gently behind the ear. Chap whined with pleasure and pushed his great head into her side.
"He's a dear thing, but fierce, too. I can tell," Beth-rae said. "It will be good to have him standing guard."
Little Rose thumped both her hands across Chap's back and laughed.
"His name's Chap," Leesil said, also puzzled by the dog's unusual friendliness with strangers.
"Come to the kitchen, Chap," Beth-rae said. "We'll find you some cold mutton. But don't get too accustomed. It's fish for us most days."
As Beth-rae and Rose and Chap left the room, Magiere again looked at Caleb as if to question his presence.
"We're the caretakers," he repeated, meeting her gaze. "When Master Dunction disappeared, the constable commissioned the bank in Bela to keep us on until the place could be sold."
While wondering about Caleb's use of the term "disappeared," Magiere turned her attention to a new dilemma.
"Do all three of you live here?"
Leesil came over to join her. "Of course, they live here. Who do you think has been keeping the place up?"
Magiere crossed her arms, shifting from one foot to the other. Taking on a tavern was one thing; supporting a family of three she'd just met was another. Leesil must have read the expression on her face, for he cut in before she could speak.
"We're going to need help anyway," he said. "If you're running the bar and I'm running the games, who's going to serve and cook and keep the place up?"
He had a point. Magiere hadn't given much thought to food, but most patrons coming in for ale would probably want to eat as well.
"What did Dunction serve?" she asked Caleb.
"Simple fare. When the place was still open, Beth-rae baked bread all morning, then cooked different types of stew or fish chowder. She's good with herbs and spices." He paused. "Come upstairs, and I'll show you the living quarters."
Although his tone remained casual, Magiere sensed a cautious tension in the old caretaker, as if there was more going on here than he indicated.
"How long have you been here?" she asked, following him up the staircase.
"Nine years," he answered. "Rose has been with us since my daughter… left us."
"Left you?" Leesil asked. Then he muttered under his breath, "Seems like people keep leaving this place."
Caleb didn't respond. Magiere held her tongue as well. The old man's affairs were none of her business.
The upper floor was as well tended as the lower. The top of the stairs emptied into the center of a short, narrow hallway. First Caleb showed her a large bedroom at the left end of the hall, somewhere above the common room downstairs, and proclaimed it to be hers. There was another room for Leesil at the midpoint of the hall, just across from the stairs, and a third small room at the right end of the hall. The last had likely been used for storage or other purposes. There was a sagging bed tucked into the corner, two pillows at its head, and a little mat on the floor.
"This is where we stay, Miss," Caleb said. "We don't take up much space."
For the second time that day, Magiere sighed in resignation. Leesil was right; they couldn't manage everything by themselves. Besides, she had no idea how to make spiced fish chowder and no time for tasks like cleaning the hearth if she was to learn how to run this place.
"What arrangement did you have with the bank?" she asked.
"Arrangement?" Caleb's brows gathered.
"What does the bank pay you?"
"Pay us? We've just been living here, tending the place, and were careful not to use up all the stores before the new owner arrived."
Magiere didn't know whom she despised more at that moment, the very poor or the very rich. The bank was able to arrange free caretakers, taking advantage of two people suddenly left without an employer.
"All right," she said to Caleb. "You two work for me, and I'll pay you a twentieth share of the house's profits, plus room and board." She pushed past Leesil down the hall and away from the small room. She stopped at the top of the stairs and looked back at them. "And I don't need that big bedroom. We'll switch places later this afternoon."
Leesil stared at her, then looked at Caleb and shrugged. A flicker, just a hint, of astonishment passed across Caleb's face, but he nodded as if such an offer was commonplace.
"That will be just fine," he said calmly. He moved down the hall past her and went quietly back downstairs, no doubt to inform his spouse of the changes to come.