Caught in the Fox’s Teeth

Chapter 16: Taryn

I practically inhale my food and thank the girl in Lyrian. I am lucky to have picked up enough of the language to at least be polite. She hands me a key attached to a wooden tag with a strange symbol. Great. More s**t I can’t understand. Sensing my unease, the girl points up the stairs, mimes turning right and holds up two fingers then right again. I take my chances on figuring out this puzzle and vow to learn more Lyrian in my coming days.

The stairs are narrow, just wide enough to fit one person either coming or going. For two people to meet on the staircase it would require they press themselves close to each other. I’m incredibly thankful I don’t have company here and go about climbing the steps. I turn right down the hall as the bar keep indicated and pass one door then two. The second door has the same symbol carved on the key tag which leads me to believe I’ve found my room. Opening the door, I’m not surprised to find the room to be small. I just need to sleep here so I’m not too upset with the modest accommodations. It’s quite cozy in fact. My room is warm enough. I expect it is right over the kitchen making the room warmer without the need for a fire. It seems the tavern girl was doing me another favor. I wish I had tipped her more. I make a mental note to give her more coin come breakfast time tomorrow.

I bolt the door and slide a chair under the handle for good measure. I trust no one. Not even my friend the tavern wench. I strip down naked and quickly wash my hair followed by some of my unmentionables in the nearby water basin. Dirt seems to run from the undergarments far longer than I expected. The road is not a kind place for those who value cleanliness. I will need a proper bath eventually but until I get an opportunity to indulge in such luxuries it seems water basin baths will be my routine. I huff out a sigh at the fond memories of piping hot water that runs through a tap as I slosh the dirty water from my w***e’s bath out the window.

Snuggling into the soft down mattress I close my eyes, letting the buttery sheets caress my skin. I listen to the faint sounds of the kitchen below. Voices are muffled to a dull hum, lulling me into a deep sleep while the dinging of pans rings out quietly through the walls. I may be on the run but, I have not been this content since my husband’s passing. It is a simple peace I’ve found here. Despite my stay being a single night, I am blessed beyond measure.

Upon awaking, I get dressed quickly and venture down the stairs. This time I am not so lucky as to be the only one on the stairwell. A rotund gentleman that bears a striking resemblance to the tavern wench grunts and nods before beckoning me to go down the stairs before him. I thank him and nod back. I feel his eyes on me longer than what feels natural but that could also just be the paranoia. I brush off the feeling of unease and take the same seat at the bar I occupied last night. The girl is still there. She is wiping down the counter unaware of my presence at first. When her brown, doe eyes meet mine, she smiles a bit. I wave back at her and mime eating again. She nods but before she can head towards the kitchen, the large gentleman I ran into on stairs looms over the bar, eyebrow raised.

His voice is gruff and thickly accented. He barks a greeting in Lyrian to which I return hesitantly. The tavern girl comes out with my food but her smile falters when she sees the man, who I assume to be her father. He addresses her and gestures towards me with his head. They speak in their unintelligible language as I sit awkwardly. I should have learned f*****g Lyrian. Gods be damned. The girl brings me the food and is hastened away by her father. They chatter in the corner but I catch him flicking his eyes to me every now and then. A sweat begins to form beneath the scarf. I suddenly feel too hot. Before I can bolt out the door, the man returns. He is broad shouldered and tall. His hair is a deep russet, the same color as his eyes. They seem too beady for the size of his head giving him a shifty appearance. He reminds me of a large rat. His nose is crooked, and a bushy mustache adorns his upper lip. Placing two massive and meaty hands on the bar, he levels me with a stare.

“Where you from?” He asks and forces a smile. It feels wrong; Like someone has tried to teach a wolf to smile. I look toward the girl. She looks away quickly. His finger gently brings my face back to his. “You no from here. Too clean. Too pretty.” His eyes make a slow perusal of my body as he takes inventory. Is he coming onto me? I suddenly feel my skin begin to crawl as if millions of ants march beneath my flesh. He moves to push the scarf from my head but I clutch it quickly and step away. It’s too late though. A lock of my golden hair falls down. The man smiles warmly and pinches the strand between his fingers, rubbing softly. “Hair of gold, huh? Very pretty.”

I thank him for the compliment brusquely and toss money on the counter before attempting to make my escape. His hand catches my wrist before I make it too far. He is a spider tending his web and I’m just the unlucky fly who wasn’t quick enough. I flew too close to the sun. I jerk my arm but the man doesn’t let me go.

“Why run? It’s ok. Stay. Eat. It’s safe here. You safe here.” His words are meant to soothe me but I can’t help the sense of fear running through my spine. Gently the man lets go of my hand, raising his in surrender. “You stay golden lady. Eat.” Backing away, the man leaves me alone to attend to his other duties. I struggle with what to do next until the tavern girl waves me back to my plate and brings me another refreshing mug of ale. Grateful that I’m no longer being scrutinized by the tavern owner, I tuck into the heaping pile of bacon, sausage, eggs and toast. There is also a small bowl of some sort of bean, I haven’t the faintest idea why. The girl catches me eyeing the beans curiously and smiles. Taking my spoon she ladles some of the brown bean souplike mixture onto a hearty piece of toast then adds a layer of bacon before passing it back to me. I raise an eyebrow in question but ultimately I trust her judgement and take a wary bite. The saltiness of the bacon pairs so well with the starchy beans. There are notes of onions and garlic but there is also an undertone of something spicy. She smiles at whatever expression I must be making. I tell her the food is good by raising up my thumb and saying the Lyrian word for good as if I am a toddler. This earns me another smile.

I eat my food quickly so I don’t have to interact with her father again. I toss another three silver brigs down and the girl looks around, holding up a finger to wait. She disappears and comes back with a cloth package filled with a loaf of bread, pickled eggs, some sort of dried fish, a handful of cherries and several thick slices of ham. It is a proverbial feast and I swear I almost cry. She takes my hand in hers warmly and thanks me. I imagine they don’t see many people throw coin around so freely. I hope it will be of use to them. With my care package in tow, I bid her goodbye and slip through the door so I can see myself to the stables.

Farro seems to have enjoyed the restful night in a warm barn as much as I enjoyed my room. She lets out a low neigh and shakes her head when she sees me coming. “Anxious to get back on the road?” I ask her softly, running my hand over her gray mane. “Yeah, me too.” I answer my own question before giving her another well deserved apple. I thank the stable hand for his exceptional care, mount my horse, and bid the peaceful town, I learned is called Urman, goodbye.

I did not learn much from my visit with the tavern keeper’s daughter other than I’m still quite aways from the borders of Nezera. As planned, It is there I will seek refuge from my pursuers and implore them to help me find my way back to Daodan. Nazera’s Lord Edmund Naveth has embraced his family’s opinion on the Vulpins. He cares not for them and their endless pursuit for power. Land disputes and petty tiffs over multiple generations have made Nazera and Estrajia less than neutral. They are not outwardly hostile towards one another, but the states do not get along in the least. Bowen told me that at one point in time his ancestors had been responsible for trading intentionally tainted grain to Nazera. In true Vulpin fashion, one of his forefathers had an ongoing dispute with the province over some trivial nonsense involving a betrothal to one of the Vulpin’s cousins. I don’t remember the exact reasoning or how they tainted the grain but it resulted in many deaths and illnesses across Nazera. It was so grievous a matter that the king of the realm had gotten involved and usually kings don’t involve themselves with minor local governances but the high lord of Nazera had demanded an audience from the regent. The king forbade Nazera and Estrajia from engaging in any large-scale trade. There are still small acts of civil terrorism between the states but nothing on such a grand scale as to warrant the attentions of a king. Tensions still exist and it is in those tensions that I hope to find an ally; after all, the enemy of my enemy is my friend.

I’m still about a five day’s ride from the border. I’ll need to grab more provisions before heading on my way, but the care package given to me at the tavern should decrease how much I will need to obtain from the town. After I grab a few more dry goods, I will continue onto Nazera and hope that my trip will not face any complications.