The other structures were placed at various points up the hill, purely by chance as far as I could tell. Most of them were dark; a few showed faint flickering light, like maybe a candle was going, or there were the embers of a fire. The one exception was about halfway up: there was a lot of light coming from it, and as I got closer I saw there was a sign hanging in front of it, though I couldn’t read the sign at all. But I know what a peasant inn looks like; I’ve been in enough of them over the last few years.
I made my way up without meeting anyone. Now I could see the sign well enough to identify a painted ring of gemstones: diamond, ruby, emerald, sapphire, opal, pearl, and another one that I think was supposed to be a beryl. The paint was fresh enough to make me think it was renewed often, which meant the house was prosperous.
As I reached the door, Loiosh said, “With you, or wait out here, Boss?”
That was always the question. Walk in to a Teckla public house with two jhereg on my shoulders, or without? Intimidate, or try to go for the harmless and friendly approach?
“Windows?”
“Plenty of them.”
“Then wait outside for now.”
He didn’t say anything. I knew he didn’t like it, and he knew I knew, and he accepted it as part of the job.
I opened the door slowly, entered, and tried to make myself small. The place wasn’t as big as I thought it would be, so it probably had back rooms. There were about a dozen tables of various sizes and different kinds of construction, and what decoration there was consisted of poor-quality landscape drawings: a coastal scene, rolling hills with sheep, mountains. The kind of art you like if you want to be anywhere but where you are. At the back was a small stage, hardly big enough for two people to stand on, and I suddenly thought of Sara.
Three of the tables were occupied: all Teckla, of course, and varying ages. It wasn’t very busy, but that could be because it was still early, or because … that was when I realized that I had no idea what day of the week it was. I don’t know why that was so disorienting. I should probably have asked Gormin.
Of course, all the patrons were looking at me. I smiled and bobbed my head a little, and tried not to look too intelligent. The host was a tiny woman, for a Dragaeran, who looked like everyone’s grandmother.
I found a table in the corner near the door and sat down with my back to the room. It made me a little nervous without Loiosh and Rocza watching for me, but it’s how you invite the room to look at you. The grandmother hesitated, but eventually decided my money was good. I asked for wine and was brought a bottle I didn’t recognize. It was already opened, and she poured some and waited while I dug out a coin.
She left, and I drank and wished I hadn’t. It was all aftertaste, and none of the aftertaste was taste you’d want to be tasting either after or before anything. If I were a good person, I’d give you the name of the wine so you can avoid it, but I’m not, and also I don’t remember. I’m going to bet it was local, and that this was a terrible area for grapes.
I sat there and pretended to drink my wine for half an hour or so, and no one came to talk to me. To the left, no one tried to hit me over the head with a chair either, so we can call it even. I shifted to another chair at the same table where I could get a better view of the room. No one was looking at me, and everyone was engaged in quiet conversation, though what they had to talk about other than me I couldn’t guess. That’s not true, actually. I’d been around Teckla before, and I knew what they talked about. They weren’t talking about how the weather would affect the crop of—I don’t know, whatever they grew here. They also weren’t talking about how His Lordship treated them, or the share he took. They weren’t talking about how much better that plow was now that it’d been sharpened. No, they were talking about what their youngest had been up to, and about that project for the fair, and about how the local merchant had raised the price of dreamgrass and wouldn’t he be surprised when no one bought it anymore, and about that funny thing that had happened when the cat got too close to the mama goat as she was giving birth. I didn’t need to overhear them, because I’d been in a score of places just like it. The hostess watched the place like a mother bear, occasionally venturing out to fill an order.
The nearest table had two middle-aged women and a young man. I stood up and drifted over. “May I?”
It was obvious that none of them liked the question much. They didn’t know what to make of this guy—this Easterner—walking around openly armed, and, after all, Easterners were the only people below them socially. Tough decision for them. I put on my best non-threatening smile and waited.
Eventually, one of the women grunted and nodded, which answered my first question: which one of them was in charge. She had almost perfectly round eyes, pale skin even in the dim light of the house, and I’ve had daggers duller than her nose.
“I’m Vlad,” I said.
They rattled off odd-sounding names. The one with the nose I caught as something like a cough. Ouffach, or something like that. I said, “What do you drink here? I tried the wine.”
They all laughed, the way you laugh when someone has just discovered what you’ve known for years.
“Beer,” she said. “Stay with the beer.” She waved the hostess over and ordered one for me. I made a gesture indicating I wanted to buy a round, and she nodded. I’m not much of a beer drinker, but it was all right.
“What are you doing here?” said Ouffach.
“Just passing through,” I said.
“Where are you going?”
“Where? I’m not even sure what direction I’ll head in. Whatever I can find. Is there anything to see around here?”
The other woman, whose name I hadn’t quite caught, said, “Just a few miles west of here are the fairgrounds.”
“Is there a fair?”
“It ended eight days ago.”
“Okay.”
The younger man said, “The ribbons are still up.”
The other woman shook her head. “No, they’re gone now.”
“You sure? I was by there day before yesterday and—”
Ouffach cleared her throat, and the other two stopped. She turned back to me. “Are you looking for work?”
“I’m not much for farming.”
“They hire servants at the castle, sometimes.”
“Oh? Did you ever work there?”
“My youngest did.”
“And my sister,” said the guy.
The other woman said, “When I was a little girl I waited on Her Ladyship.”
“Her Ladyship,” I repeated.
She nodded.
“I’ve heard she passed away,” I said.
The other two nodded, but Ouffach squinted at me and said, “How did you hear that?”
Her face was wrinkled, and her skin looked like it would have the consistency of leather.
“I pick things up here and there.”
She wasn’t having it. “You were at the castle.”
I nodded.
“Who?”
“Gormin.”
She nodded slowly. “He talks too much.”
“For a Teckla, or an Issola?”
“He’s no Issola anymore.”
“Why not? What happened?”
“None of your business, or mine.”
Well, that didn’t leave a lot of room for discussion. When discussion fails, try negotiation, that’s what I always say. Sometimes say. Have said at least once before.