Zypheria's Call (A Tanyth Fairport Adventure) Page 11
He nodded at the cast. “What’d ya do to your arm?”
Tanyth controlled a rising temper with a deep breath before replying. “Broke it.”
With an uneasy glance at Rebecca, he took a breath as if he didn’t want to say whatever he was about to utter. “There are vagrancy laws in Kleesport, mum. Do you have sufficient coin for lodging and food while in the city?”
“I believe so, young man, but until I get into the city and see how much things cost, I won’t really know, now will I?” She tried to keep her voice level but the young man’s questions began to annoy her.
“Do you have five silvers on your person, mum?” the guard asked.
“Yes.” Tanyth bit the word off and let it lay there for a moment before asking, “Do you need me to show them to you or will you take my word for it?”
He smiled and held his hands out to his sides. “No offense, mum. I’m just doing my duty.”
She watched the wagons and bearers entering the city unhindered, pointedly watching them walk by and even around them where they stood on the side of the plaza. “And them?” she asked.
“Tradesmen and vendors, mum. Not travelers.” He pointed to a drover with an oxcart laden with baskets of vegetables. “He wears a vendor tag. He’s heading for the market.”
Tanyth noted that the man did, in fact, wear a wooden tag on a thong around his neck. As she looked about, she saw that all the tradesmen and carters wore them.
“Everyone doing business in the city has a tag, mum. For taxes.” The youth looked a bit apologetic. “I meant no disrespect, mum. Just doing my duty.”
Tanyth glanced over at Rebecca who merely shrugged an apology. “It’s been a while since I’ve been home.”
Tanyth frowned and wondered if Frank had a tag and she’d just never noticed.
“If you intend to do business in the city, mum, you need to register with the city clerk and get a tag like those.”
Tanyth shook her head. “I’m just passin’ through.” She bit her tongue on any sharper comments.
“Do you have a place to stay, mum?”
“I’m planning on staying at a place called the Broken Gate.”
“Yes, mum, I know it.” He eyed her once more and pointedly did not look at Rebecca. “That’s a place that caters to drivers and carters, mum. Are you sure?”
“Well, we’re meeting a driver there, and he’s been there many times. I’m sure he’d not steer us to a place that’s too rough for a little old lady like me.” Her eyes dared him to make another comment.
He bit back the follow up question and nodded once, giving her a polite salute. “Thank you, mum, and I’m sorry to have bothered you. Enjoy your stay in Kleesport.”
“You have a name, soldier?” she asked.
“Yes, mum. Footman Milo Carver, mum.”
“Thank you for your courtesy, Footman Carver,” she said. “May we go now?”
He stepped back with a flourish of his arm. “Of course, mum.”
She eyed him but he appeared to be sincere and she strode off without another glance, Rebecca tugged her hat brim as she paced along beside. Behind her she heard the lounging guardsmen laughing and calling out to the young man. She heard their voices but couldn’t make out their words in the hubbub going on around her. Whatever they were saying, she was sure it wasn’t pretty.
“Well, that was close,” Rebecca muttered as they crossed under the tall gate.
Tanyth cast her a sidelong look. “Close?”
“Yeah. He didn’t make us prove we had five silvers.”
Tanyth shook her head. “I have five silvers, my dear. What...?”
Rebecca grinned. “You may, mum, but I don’t.”
Tanyth laughed, her cackle making heads near-by turn in amusement. “We’ll see you have a few to put in your pocket as soon as we get settled, my dear. I have a few set aside.”
Rebecca shook her head. “My auntie will take care of that, mum. Don’t you fret.”
Tanyth shrugged and they continued on into the city.
They hadn’t gone twenty paces before shouts started behind them, “Make way! Make way!” Tanyth felt, rather than heard the heavy hoof beats, and stepped to the side of the plaza, moving with the flow of the crowd. Traffic stopped and a messenger of the King’s Own cantered past, his harness bells jingling a warning, and his orange sash marking him as a courier. When he’d passed, the crowd surged forward filling in his wake. Tanyth stood in her spot for a few moments watching the carters and drovers jockeying for position on their way to market. A pair of men, better dressed than the rest and carrying walking sticks, strode along with heads together. The nearer one banged Tanyth’s cast and shot her a venomous look.
“Watch where you’re walking!” he snapped before turning back to his companion.
Tanyth heard him say, “Bad business. Avram should have listened and now the whole cargo’s lost.”
The other tsked and shook his head before the crowd swallowed them up.
“Busy place,” she muttered.
“Yes’m,” Rebecca said glancing around. “Always was.”
“This tag business?”
Rebecca shrugged. “I never noticed, but then I wouldn’t’a, would I?”
“Your uncle, he’s important?”
Rebecca shrugged again. “Father, really. And, I just didn’t want them carrying the word to him. My uncle’s not so important.”
“Why’s ’at?”
“He doesn’t run a big company.”
“No, why don’t ya want your father to know?”
“He wasn’t happy I left the first time. I don’t s’pect he’d be happy to learn I’d left again and goin’ in the opposite direction this time.” She gave a little grimace and glanced around at the people flowing by them.
Tanyth nodded once before joining the northbound flow, looking for the carriage station and the intersection of Potters Road.
Chapter Twelve:
The Broken Gate
The woman behind the bar eyed Tanyth and Rebecca up and down before speaking. “Beggin’ yer pardon, mum, are you sure you wanna stay here?”
Tanyth looked around the nearly empty taproom. Groups of men sat at tables scattered around the room. Every so often one or more would cast eyes in her direction, more curious than threatening. “It seems well-tended, my dear. Why wouldn’t we?”
“Well, mum, mostly we get drovers and carters in town on business. They can get rowdy sometimes, mum.” The woman paused. “And it’s hardly seemly for a woman travelin’ alone, if you get my drift, mum.”
Tanyth turned a pointed look to Rebecca before looking back at the barkeep. “I’m hardly alone.”
“Well, no, mum, but this...your son?”
Rebecca took off the hat and shook out the leather thong that held her cropped hair back. “I’m just the lady’s maid,” she said, a challenging look in her eye.
The woman blinked several times, and Tanyth saw her eyes flicker to the pommel of Rebecca’s dirk then up to the fletched arrows over her shoulder. “I...ah...well, that is, I’m not sure we have room just now. Busy season. Everybody waitin’ for the Call, you see.”
“The Call?” Tanyth asked, reclaiming the woman’s attention.
“Zypheria’s Call, mum. The wind? Blows the ice off the north shore.”
Tanyth nodded. “Heard of it. We’re waitin’ for it, too.”
The woman nodded, her hands twisting a damp rag on the bar while she looked back and forth between the two of them. “Can I ask how ya found us?”
“You’re not exactly hidden, are ya?” Rebecca asked. “First left on Potters Road, just inside the main gates.”
Tanyth held up a hand and quelled Rebecca’s outburst. “We got your name from Frank Crane. Drives a lorry wagon with a six-horse team. You know him?”
“Frank? Comes to town every few weeks drivin’ a clay wagon? Old guy? Gray...um.” The woman frowned and looked at Tanyth’s gray hair. “You’re with Frank?”
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��Yeah. He’s bringin’ in a load of clay now. Should be here later tonight.”
The woman’s eyebrows shot up at that news. “Are you his wife, mum?”
“D’you ask all your guests these kinds of questions?” Tanyth asked, a bit of pepper in her tone.
The younger woman blinked and leaned back, surprise showing on her face. “No, mum, but we don’t get that many travelers ta begin with. Mostly regular custom.”
Tanyth took a deep breath and let it out before stepping closer and leaning an elbow on the bar. “All right, then. No, I’m not his wife. I’m just passin’ through. My friend here is goin’ with me to keep me company and help out while my arm heals.” Tanyth held up her forearm to display the now ragged-looking cast. “I wintered in the village and Frank offered us a ride to town. I got tired of sittin’ on that hard seat and walked on ahead while he dealt with the clay. He recommended this place. Said I should get a room, maybe a bath. And he’d be along soon’s he’s done with the load. Now? Do you have any other questions?” She tried to keep her voice calm and her temper in check but the young woman’s frown deepened as Tanyth spoke. She sighed and ran a hand through her hair. “I’m sorry, my dear. I’m tired and dirty, and not on my best behavior. I’ve traveled back and forth across Korlay for more’n twenty winters and I’ve never been questioned so much in my life as I have been in the last hour.” She smiled in apology. “It’s made me into a cranky old woman.”
The woman’s frown cleared a bit, but she still looked uncertain. “Well, mum, rooms are a silver a night and comes with breakfast...nothin’ fancy, mind. Tea and oatmeal, pancakes, toast.” She paused and added, “Baths are an extra silver. Paid in advance.”
“Sounds fine.” Tanyth pulled out her purse and counted three silvers out onto the bar. “There’s enough for two nights and a bath. I need to visit the banker tomorrow and then see about getting’ passage to North Haven. I’ll know more about how long I’ll be stayin’ then. That all right by you?”
“Yes, mum.” The woman scooped the coins off the bar and into a ceramic jar where they rattled as they fell. “If you’d just sign the book, mum, I’ll have Elly start drawin’ your bath.” She pulled a leather-bound book from behind the bar and handed Tanyth a pen, placing a small jar of ink close at hand.
Tanyth eyed the pen and ledger.
“Can you write, mum? I can sign for you if you can’t.”
Tanyth shook her head. “No, I can write. I just...” Her voice trailed off as she examined the pen and the quality of the paper in the bound ledger. “I just never had to sign into an inn before. Usually just paid the bill.”
“Taxes, mum,” the woman shrugged as if that explained it all. “City takes its tithe and this is how they know how much it should be.”
“You have to buy your own pens and ledgers?” Tanyth asked as she penned her name on the next open line.
“Yes’m.”
“Sounds expensive,” Tanyth said, holding the pen up to get a look at the craftsmanship.
“Not as expensive as not payin’, mum,” the woman said, a bitter shadow behind her words.
Tanyth looked up at that and saw a barely concealed anger in the younger woman’s face. “I dare say,” she said and handed the pen back. “Will that do?”
The woman turned the ledger around and looked. “Yes’m. Thank you.” She took the pen and added notations for two nights, and a bath, then inscribed a three in the last column. “There,” she said, and pulled a key attached to a block of wood from under the counter. “Room four, mum. Up the stairs, turn right, end of the hall.” She leaned in and lowered her voice. “Easier to sleep away from the stairs.”
Tanyth took the key and nodded her thanks. “Thank you. Are you...Mazie?”
“Mabel, mum. Mabel Esterhouse.”
“Ah, yes, then you and your husband own this place.”
“Yes, mum.” The woman seemed confused by the change in their conversation.
“Frank said you keep a good stable and run a clean house.”
Mabel smiled at the compliment. “Thank you, mum. We try.”
“He also said you brew a nice ale.”
She practically beamed. “Well, mum, not to brag, but folks do say it’s the best ale west of the boulevard.”
“Do you suppose we might have bit while we’re waiting for the bath?”
“Of course, mum. Two coppers a pint or five for a pitcher...”
Tanyth dropped four coppers on the counter and watched as Mabel scooped them up and dropped them into a metal box. They rattled as they fell.
Mabel saw her watching and gave a small shrug.
“Taxes?” Tanyth asked.
“Yes’m. Don’t have to make marks in a ledger but the coins gotta make a noise when they fall.”
Tanyth frowned at that. “Make a noise?”
Mabel’s mouth screwed into a grimace. “Yes’m. Sometimes the taxmen come and sit and listen and keep tally by the sound the coins make. They check.”
Tanyth’s face must have shown her incredulity.
Mable shrugged. “It’s how it works here, mum. Part of doin’ business in Kleesport.”
Before Tanyth could answer, one of the men spoke from across the taproom. “Oye! Mabel, me love! Another pitcher here, eh?”
“Keep your braces up, there, Bernard! I’ll be right with ya.” Mabel gave Tanyth a small shrug and went to the taps.
The man called Bernard nodded and turned back to the table. The three men with him all had frowns on their faces and leaned on their elbows, heads together.
“Cheerful bunch,” Rebecca muttered.
Tanyth shrugged and nodded.
Mabel came back with a pair of pints and gave a little nod at the men. “They’ve lost a friend today. They’re entitled to a little grievin’.” She slid the pints across the bar. “You can take them up with you, mum. Elly will be right along with the bath water.”
“What happened?” Rebecca asked, picking up her glass.
“Longshoreman. Reggie Winters. Lovely young man. Wavy black hair. Gorgeous eyes. Had shoulders...well, never mind that.” Mabel shook herself and focused. “He’d sometimes drove lorry for one or t’other of the carters around. Got tired of liftin’ and tuggin’ so he signed on as a deck hand and shipped out.”
Tanyth sipped her ale. “He not comin’ back?” she asked, idle curiousity driving her tongue.
“No, mum. Not like that. The ship went down.”
Rebecca gave a little, “Oh, no,” sound.
“That common?” Tanyth asked. “Losin’ ships like that?”
Mabel glanced around the room and used her rag to wipe down the bar. “Too common, some say.”
Rebecca and Tanyth shared a look. “Why’s ’at, mum?” Rebecca asked.
“All I’m sayin’ is, when you book passage to North Haven?” She looked back and forth between them, staring first at Rebecca and then at Tanyth. “Make sure the ship’s insured.”
Rebecca sucked in a quick breath.
“That helps them that are left behind a bit,” Tanyth said, taking another sip of the nutty ale.
A sour expression crossed Mabel’s face. “Helps with the odds of survival, too, mum. Helps a lot more’n it prob’ly should if you catch my meaning.”
“Oye! Mabel? You run out of ale or somethin’?” Bernard and his companions were all looking in their direction.
Mabel waved her rag at the man in a dismissive gesture. “’S’cuse me, mum. Some around here’s got too little patience and too few manners.”
Tanyth nodded her thanks, but Mabel was already drawing off a fresh pitcher and didn’t see.
Tanyth felt much better for having bathed and Frank was right about the ale. Rebecca helped get her clean and kept the water off her cast. “Just like ole times, eh, mum?” she said, helping Tanyth out of the bath and into some cleaner clothes.
Tanyth smiled remembering the days that one or more of the young women in the village had helped her after Birchwood’s knife had ca
rved a long scar up her center. “Well, not exactly,” she said but smiled. “I appreciate the help.”
Rebecca grinned and skinned out of her own clothing to take advantage of the warm water. “You just relax, mum,” Rebecca said. “I’ll just scrub up a bit and do a little laundry. We’ll be fresh as daisies when Frank gets here.”
Tanyth smiled at the young woman’s cheerfulness.
“An’ thanks for payin’ for the room, mum,” Rebecca said. “I can pay ya back.”
The comment caught Tanyth unaware. “No, no. You’re helpin’ me. Least I can do is pay for the room.”
Rebecca shot her a knowing grin and rolled her shoulders in a shrug. “Well, you prob’ly won’t get much use of it until Frank heads back down the Pike.”
“Not get much use of it?”
Rebecca’s giggle filled the small room before Tanyth realized what the girl was getting at.
“Well, if you’re trying to make an old woman blush, you’re gonna have ta do better’n that,” Tanyth said with a snort and a laugh. “Sadie and Amber cured me o’ that with all the talk of woodboxes.”
Rebecca just giggled some more and ducked her head to rinse off the soap. “Still, mum,” she said. “I don’t think you’ll be spendin’ much time here once Frank arrives.” She made little shooing motions with her fingers. “You scoot. Go rest your bones downstairs and keep an eye out. I’ll finish up here and be down in a bit.”
Tanyth shook her head at the smiling girl and headed back down the stairs. Her legs complained at the unfamiliar movement of walking up and down the narrow stairs. “Funny how riding is so much harder on a body,” she muttered.
In the taproom, she found the crowd had grown a bit and a couple of serving girls had joined Mabel. The light outside had faded to late afternoon and sturdy lanterns mounted on the posts and walls gave the room a warm, cheerful glow. A heavy stone hearth to one side had a small fire kindled for warmth, but few sat by the blaze. She took a seat at a small table just back from the hearth to rest her bones a bit.
One of the serving girls came over immediately. “What can I bring ya, mum? Nice bit of tea?”
Tanyth’s stomach grumbled but over the hubbub, she didn’t think the girl had heard it. “What’s on for dinner then?”