“Take them,” suggested Challie. “He’s not kidding. He does have the best inn since the Saltbreeze burned down. I’ve had a room there for several months.”
“And a stall, too?” Lucy asked.
Aylesworthy mopped his face again. “Of course. It will be my pleasure to have you stay.”
“HowlongareyouplanningtostayinFlotsam?” inquired the third person. Shorter than Challie, the diminutive, bright-eyed male was a gnome with rich brown skin, a snowy-white beard braided in two braids, and a large nose. He had a small lantern tied to his stiff hat and a fistful of small tools on his belt. His clothes were dusty and smudged with something gray. Like most gnomes, he tended to talk so quickly his words bumped and ran together into a bouncing stream of words.
Mayor Efrim held a skinny hand to his ear. “Notwen, if I’ve told you once, I’ve told you a thousand times. Slow down.”
“Only until I identify my father’s body,” Lucy answered before the gnome had to ask again.
A glance, so swift Ulin almost missed it, passed among the council members.
“Ah, yes. Kethril Torkay,” the fourth elder said in a voice meant to be comforting. “A fine man. We shall miss him, dear.”
Lucy curled her lip. “You didn’t know him then.”
The innkeeper chuckled. “We all knew of him, Lady Lucy. He was a man of many talents.”
“Quite,” she replied dryly. “Then can you tell me where his body lies?”
Again that lightning swift look of communication passed between the elders. Aylesworthy barely nodded.
“Unfortunately, we have suffered a miscommunication,” said the fourth council member. She was an elderly lady, almost as old as Mayor Efrim, but her body was not as frail, and when she tilted her head to look at Lucy, Ulin saw the clear glint of a sharp intelligence behind her deep set eyes. Challie introduced her simply as Saorsha.
“We don’t know exactly where he is,” Mayor Efrim said. At least he had the decency to look red-faced and embarrassed.
Lucy’s green eyes darkened. This was difficult enough without these four old politicians acting stupid. She reached into her pack and pulled out the worn, folded letter her family had received. She flipped it open and waved in their faces. “You asked us here on this trumped-up tale to view my father’s remains,” she said angrily. “Now where is he?”
Ulin, wary now, studied the faces of the elders and the dwarf around him to note their reactions. If the blank look Challie gave the council was feigned, then the dwarf was a consummate actress. The rest of the council appeared worried and very uneasy. About what? Ulin wondered.
Mayor Efrim recovered first. He puffed out his thin chest and replied, “He has been buried, of course.”
“Of course,” Lucy said, her voice heavy with sarcasm. “We know that.”
“Oh. Um, where did they bury the body?” Efrim fumbled and turned to the innkeeper.
Aylesworthy fluttered a pudgy hand. “That is the problem, remember Mayor? We don’t really know. We asked our usual burial detail to put the corpse in a safe place.” He sighed. “They hid it so well, they cannot remember where they put it.”
“How convenient,” Lucy muttered. “What do you plan to do about this difficulty?”
Mayor Efrim spread out his hands in a reassuring gesture. “Search for him, of course! We haven’t done so yet simply because we were not certain you would accept our offer. Please! Allow us to find his body for you. It should only take a few days, and it would be our pleasure to have you stay in our town.”
Lucy pursed her lips and studied the elders. Something was not right with this situation. She knew the elders were not being entirely truthful with her, and she could sense Challie had something to hide, too. But what? If her father was not dead, why bother lying about it? And if his body was truly missing or destroyed, why couldn’t they just admit it?
It was too confusing. She was hot, tired, and weary of travel. She could see the exhaustion on Challie’s face, too, and the hollows under Ulin’s eyes. They all needed rest. If the city council was willing to help her, she could give them four or five days to prove it. If she didn’t have her father’s body by then, or at least a reasonable explanation of his disappearance, she would take matters into her own hands. She looked up into Ulin’s eyes and saw the same suspicious glint she knew must be in her own. He tilted his chin down and winked once, and she knew without asking that he would accept whatever decision she made.
Lucy extended her hand as if to seal a deal. “Thank you, Mayor Efrim. I accept your offer.”
CHAPTER SIX
Innkeeper Aylesworthy was as good as his word. He hurried away after the meeting on the steps, and by the time Ulin, Lucy, and Challie had walked to the Jetties on the south side of Flotsam, he had two adjoining rooms and a stall cleaned and ready for them. The Jetties proved to be a ramshackle, sprawling building that looked like it had been thrown together by shoving several different houses together and tacking on a few sheds for good measure. Its main room and bar occupied the central space in an edifice faced with chunks of stone mortared together like a puzzle.
In spite of its haphazard appearance, the Jetties was neatly tended, and the ale, while not up to Ulin’s standards, was acceptable. Lucy looked over the two small rooms and the newly swept stall, nodded her acceptance, and paid the innkeeper for four nights.
Pleased that she would pay in advance, Aylesworthy clapped his hands for his kitchen help and ordered a tray of food to be sent to their rooms immediately.
When Lucy returned, she found Ulin standing by the bed, staring out the small window. Without saying a word, Lucy stood on her tiptoes and kissed Ulin’s cheek, then took her belongings into the second room.
In the months since Ulin had pledged to marry her, he had been the proper gentleman: affectionate, loving, supportive, and faithful, but he refused to set a date to confirm their vows, and not once had he let his affection heat into honest passion. Lucy knew his reluctance was not due to her. He loved her and wanted to be with her, but he had thrown a shield around his heart. Some day, she believed, he would move beyond his fear and grief and take her to be his wife.
Footsteps thudded down the hall and a small familiar figure burst into her room carrying a laden tray. The kitchen help proved to be Pease Stubbletoes. Grinning from ear to ear, the kender set the tray on a small table and poured mugs of cool ale. The plates he brought were lavishly laden with fresh bread, goat’s cheese, chunks of fried fish, and spice cookies the size of saucers.
“My ma is the cook here,” Pease said proudly. “She’s the best in Flotsam, so Master Aylesworthy lets me help her. When I’m not riding with Captain Fox, of course,” he added with equal pride.
Ulin came in to join them, and Lucy soon saw why the trays were so full. Pease had invited Challie, and as soon as the dwarf came to the table, he plopped down on a chair beside them and joined in, confident that he was already a best friend and did not need an invitation.
It was a pleasant meal full of kender chatter and gossip. Ulin and Lucy learned much about Flotsam’s history of the past five years, of the Jetties and how its previous owners died in a fire after one of Malys’s visits, and of the people who lived in the town.
“We have all kinds,” Challie told them. The good food and plentiful ale had warmed her usually stiff conversation skills. “Pirates, smugglers, farmers, miners, shopkeepers, shepherds, tribesmen from Khur, fishermen, and-”
Pease jumped into the conversation, “And refugees and mercenaries. There are a couple of dwarves and lots of kender. Notwen is the only gnome in these parts. He’s a tinker. He’s always playing with machines and building stuff. And we think Saorsha was with the Legion of Steel. She’s always helping people. She’s one of the leaders of the Vigilance Committee.”