Steelforged Legacy 2 - Chapter 2

Chapter 2

The taverns in the little town were easy to find, given the steady stream of people heading towards it. Since Casey had forgotten to ask for a recommendation, he just headed to the building that looked the busiest.

The fact he was carrying a pack and empty saddlebags got him a few odd looks from those he passed, but no one stopped him or even really commented. Anyone he met eyes with, Casey just nodded to acknowledge them.

It is both a blessing and a curse that you are so new to your journey along the Drengr’s Road. Maude commented as he pushed through the crowd in the smoke-stained room towards the bar and the bone-thin man who stood behind it pouring drinks. If you were stronger, then the regular folk would know to stay out of your way. Even those who do not walk it can sense the strength of one who is at least halfway along their first Journey. But you would also stand out like a beacon to any other on the Drengr’s Road and thus attract their attention.

Probably best not to then, Casey thought, then grimaced when he realized she couldn’t hear him. His hands were occupied at the moment, and Maude could only read his thoughts if he was touching her seax form.

Putting his annoyance aside, Casey slid between the two men propping the bar up and caught the tender’s eye with a nod of his head. The bone-thin man slouched his way over to Casey with a bland look on his face.

“Need a drink, stranger? Or do you need a room?” the bartender drawled, staring at Casey with the tired eyes of someone who would rather be anywhere else than at their job.

“Room for sure. Do you have baths?” Casey asked hopefully. His hopes were dashed when the slim man shook his head.

“No. But I can send up a basin and hot water from the kitchen. How long are you staying?”

Concealing his annoyance as best he could, Casey just nodded. He could hear the disappointed sigh from Maude as well, and that helped.

Should I keep looking for a place with baths? Casey had to fight off the grimace as he realized he’d asked Maude a question, forgetting again that he wasn’t touching her blade. I got way too used to always talking to her while outside of town. But walking about with my hand on a weapon in town would just look suspicious right now.

“Just for the night, please. I need to get back on the road after that storm. If I didn’t need to refresh my supplies, I might have just kept pushing.” Casey did his best to telegraph irritation at the delay, but the bartender was already ignoring him and rummaging under the counter.

“Rooms for the night are three claws, water for washing will run you another. Dinner is two claws,” the bland-faced innkeeper rattled off and Casey just nodded.

Nearly the same price as it was at White Gold Rain, he thought while glancing around at the tavern. Though definitely not at the same level. Oh well, this is more of a frontier town, after all. Casey counted out the six coins and slid them to the barman, accepting the key in return.

“Do you want dinner now or wash first?”

The way the bartender drawled reminded Casey of the old cartoons about the hound dog who was a sheriff, a slow speech pattern that made him wonder if the man was really all there or not.

Shaking off his distraction, Casey glanced around the taproom once more. There were more than a few people dressed as common laborers, hunters, and off-duty guards crowding the room at the moment, but he had no idea how long they would be hanging around. The entire room had a somewhat grungy look to it, between the smoke stains, the old rushes on the floor, and the general funk of human sweat in the air. Adding in to that the rush and crash of conversations, and Casey was beginning to feel a headache coming on.

Better get the information gathering out of the way first, Casey thought while tucking the key into his belt pouch.

“Dinner now, please.”

The barman grunted and nodded towards an empty seat on the far end of the bar from the fire. Casey worked his way through the press to sit there, wedging his pack between the chair and the bar top before draping his empty saddlebags over it and sitting.

Using the opportunity of leaning into the bar, he shifted so the tips of his fingers were brushing against the pommel of Maude’s weapon form.

I know I shouldn’t complain, because being able to communicate with you silently is a blessing, but it can be a pain to find a reason to have my hand on a weapon in town.

I realized that after my initial comment. Over the last week, I’ve gotten far too used to being able to converse with you whenever, Maude replied with the mental impression of a smirk, not aware she was echoing his thoughts from earlier. You are being overcharged for this room, but I imagine you were aware of it.

Yeah, but I just don’t care. With the extra coins from Mikhail, the extra few claws are worth it. I’d rather just let him think he fleeced an idiot traveler and forget me than stick in his memory.

Fair point. It is too bad about the baths, but I also wouldn’t expect every inn you come across to have them. There are many that don’t even offer a basin depending if there is a good bathhouse in town. Why not keep looking for a different tavern?

I figured turning away because of a lack of a bath would also stick in his mind as strange for what he might expect. Casey provided a memory of how most people commonly believed folks in the middle ages lived in squalor.

You’d be surprised. Drengr and even many freemen look forward to washing several times a week. I would think you’d know this from what you’ve seen in the towns you have visited. He could hear the amusement in Maude’s tone now and shrugged slightly while watching the bartender duck through a door behind the bar and return with a tray.

Oh, I know most of it is bunk, but there are expectations. And this place is… kind of playing into them, Casey thought as the bartender came to a stop and set the tray in front of him. On it was a half-round of bread that looked stone cold and a bowl of thick soup made with meat and pale vegetables that steamed pleasantly.

“Enjoy. If you want a drink, it’s another claw for ale, two for mead,” the bartender said in a bored tone, staring at Casey with eyes half closed. Sighing, Casey fished out another claw and tossed it onto the counter, which the man scooped up and walked off.

Pleasant fellow, that one. I need to change out some coins. I have plenty of the gold horns, but only a few silver fangs and maybe two or three claws left.

Something to worry about tomorrow. You can try to do it in the market, but they won’t likely be able to break a horn down. Don’t forget to pick up a few apples for your other partner. You did promise him treats, Maude reminded him as Casey dug in his pouch for the cutlery he kept with him.

You were the one who promised him treats, not me, Casey fired back before releasing the pommel of the seax. The sound of a raspberry being blown in his direction echoed in his mind, and he fought back a smile at the thought.

A crude wooden mug landed on the counter a moment later and Casey just nodded to the bartender as the man went back down the bar.

“You a traveler?” The question came from his left and Casey glanced that way while fishing out a lump of the meaty stew with his two-tined fork. A thickset man with pale blue eyes and the sweat-stained tunic of a day laborer leaned on the bar while looking his way over top of a nose reddened by alcohol.

“Hunter by trade, but traveling to look for new hunting grounds,” Casey answered, shoveling the bite of stew into his mouth.

The meat was tough. Clearly, either it had sat in the stew for too long, or not nearly long enough. It was still nice to not be eating something he’d had to cook himself, and the gravy was rich despite the toughness of the cut of meat, so he gnawed his way through it.

“Ah, you come in from the south or the north?” The laborer drawled, and Casey could tell that the man had been drinking for a bit from the way he blinked slowly and fought to focus his eyes while he swayed.

“North, but I heard there was a big ruckus during that storm the other day when I was in the general store restocking. Something’s got the clan drengr all stirred up?” Casey asked idly after finishing his bite.

“Aye.” The drunkard belched and smacked his lips before taking another slurp from his tankard, patting the bottom of it to get the last drops before dropping it back on the bartop. “I’d recommend staying in town for a few days if you have to go south. Let them find what they are looking for and clear off before you take a road that way.”

“That was what I had been thinking,” Casey prodded around a pale vegetable lump with his fork, wondering if it was a turnip or a potato. It was hard to tell with the hearty gravy coloring it and the irregular shape. “You know if there are any other roads to take? I’m just wandering until I can find somewhere in need of a hunter, so I don’t exactly have a set destination.”

The drunk man glanced towards the bar, and Casey noted the man was eying the ale mug that the bartender had dropped off for him. With the hand not using his fork, Casey nudged the mug towards the man, who snatched it without hesitation and took a long gulp before sighing as if he’d been parched half to death. As the man began to ramble on about other villages nearby and roads north, Casey smothered a grin.

Maude had no such hesitation regarding expressing her amusement, bursting into a fit of giggles in his mind.

Slick, but you know it’s not always going to be this easy to get information, right?

<><><>

“I think I would have preferred sleeping out in the woods,” Casey grumbled, rolling his head on his neck as he tried to work out the crick that had formed there overnight.

I can’t fault you for that. The bed was tiny! Maude agreed with him mentally as he wound through the morning market, following his nose towards the food vendors while keeping an eye out for the apples and other fruit Maude had promised his newest companion.

“Tiny and stiff. Did it even have a mattress on it?” Casey continued to grumble aloud, twisting his head firmly to the right. A loud pop that left his ears ringing heralded his neck finally adjusting and Casey let out a sigh of relief as a good amount of the stiffness began to fade.

Sweet mercy, that was loud enough I feel like I heard it in my own center, Maude laughed at him. I suppose we should at least be thankful they didn’t have bugs in the bedding. Now that would just ruin anyone’s day.

“Small mercies,” Casey muttered, finally spotting a vendor that had a crate of early season apples on her counter. A bit of bargaining allowed Casey to break one of the silver fangs in his pouch down to claws and fill one side of his empty saddlebags with apples from the crate. He then followed the woman’s directions to a baker whose shop was set into one side of the square and sold the loaves stuffed with meat and vegetables.

Another round of bargaining and Casey tucked a dozen of the hand-sized loaves into the other half of the saddlebag and kept two more out to eat while he walked.

Okay, got food and treats for the new guy. Wonder if he’s gonna be waiting outside the town or not, Casey thought while working his way back through the crowd towards the gate he’d come in through. During his conversation with the drunk the night before, he’d learned that the gate was the only one for the town, which had squished his initial plan of exiting from another gate to help cover his trail.

No sense in waiting. Better to get on the road to cover more ground. Maude advised when he hesitated at the edge of the market. You told the gate guards last night you were heading north. Told the merchant south when buying supplies. And then waffled at the bar where others would hear you about different side roads you might take. You’ve done all you can except for trying to climb the palisade wall and sneak out that way.

“Fair,” Casey muttered before hitching up his pack.

He’d draped his new saddlebags over the top of the pack and lashed them in place with some cordage before draping his cloak over top of it all. It left him with a rather lumpy bundle, but he hoped it would keep the folks at the gate from asking too many questions about why he had saddlebags but no horse.

There was a line at the gates when Casey approached it, the guards checking folks against a list as they went before waving them along. Most wore the simple, homespun clothes of laborers that probably worked the nearby farms, with a handful wearing hunter’s colors and carrying bows.

Joining the end of the line, Casey did his best to look bored while the line slowly made its way along. He was only three back from the front when the distant crack of cloth in the wind drew his attention upward.

Curving above the trees on the far side of the meadow that the town sat in was a long wooden ship with several wide sails protruding from the deck and a pair of stubby wings poking out from either side of it. The ship had a rough shape he remembered seeing portrayed as a longship from the History channel, though the deck was wider and keel deeper than he’d seen there. It still had the large, carved prows on either side, both portraying some kind of serpent or dragon. The sides of the ship did have shields lined up, either, but he could see over a dozen shapes on the deck of people moving about.

“Airship!” The call went up from the villagers half a moment later, as they too saw the ship cruising over the trees. A ripple of surprised and curious murmurs worked through the crowd waiting at the gate. Many hands pointed up at the ship as it cruised in a wide circle over the meadow, angling towards the town slowly. The white canvas of the mainsail had a clenched, gauntleted fist done up in a reddish-bronze paint, clearly marking its allegiance to the local clan, the Bronze Fist.

Shit, Maude sent him succinctly. 

Agreed, Casey thought back, letting his left hand fall onto the pommel of Maude’s seax form while he gnawed on the last of his meat and vegetable buns in an effort to look curious but relaxed.

Here’s hoping they are just here to inspect the battle site. If they are looking for Mikhail, then getting clear is going to be even more difficult. Shit, we should have stayed away from town. You needed supplies, sure. But we could have made do with forage. Maude’s mental voice was filled with worry and it made Casey’s heart clench in his chest to hear the normally happy woman so concerned.

It’s fine, Maude. At this point, we can’t change anything. Now that we have supplies, we can make haste to put distance between us and the town. If Bugler can guide us along the animal trails again, we should be fine. We just need to stay under tree cover as much as possible if they are looking around via the air.

You are not calling that handsome fellow ‘Bugler!’ Maude sent him, clearly affronted at his choice of names. Casey just smirked as the guards got back to checking people through the gate and sending them on their way as the airship settled into an empty field to the south of town delicately and several people in elaborate clothes jumped over the sides to secure the still-floating craft to the ground with ropes and pegs.

“Name and destination?” the guard finally asked Casey after waving through a broad-shouldered woman who immediately trotted down the road towards the nearest farmstead. The guard eyed Casey curiously up and down, frowning slightly at his outfit.

“Casey, I don't really have a destination. Looking for a place to settle down that needs a hunter if you can recommend a town to aim for?” Casey replied pleasantly. He’d debated giving the man a fake name with the clan drengr nearby, but he’d given his name in town already and didn’t want to seem suspicious for lying.

Thankfully, the guard rolled his eyes and made a note on the slate in front of him before waving Casey through the gate. So he shrugged and strode through, turning to head along the northern leg of the road at a steady walk, keeping to the right side of the road.

Behind him, he could hear the shouts of the folk securing the airship and the creak of the ropes holding it down. From the itching between his shoulder blades, Casey knew someone was watching him, but he didn’t turn to look. Instead, he kept up his steady pace until the road led into the trees. Only when the sensation of being watched faded did he look back to confirm that the town was out of sight.

Breaking into a trot, Casey hurried along the curve of the road until even the farms were out of sight before stepping off the packed dirt into the trees on the right-hand side.

“Okay, now to figure out if Bugl—” Casey began to mutter.

No! You are not calling him that! Maude protested, and an irritated huff from just behind Casey followed her statement up.

Jumping in place and whirling about, his hand going to draw Maude, Casey let out a relieved sigh when he spotted the horned head of the Gladewalker Elk poking between two trees and eying him suspiciously.

“Hey there, big guy. We need to beat feet, but stay off the road. Can you show me the way to another game trail?” Casey asked quietly, taking his hand off his weapon and setting it on his chest while he tried to calm his racing heart.

The Gladewalker Elk huffed at him again, its large, brown eyes narrowing. Casey wondered what it was that had the animal annoyed before rolling his eyes and flipping his cloak back to reach into the saddlebags he had strapped over the pack.

“I got your saddlebags here, but we don’t have time to get them secured on you. But I didn’t forget your treats.” The animal’s brown eyes widened, and it huffed again, a joyful noise this time rather than the previously irritated ones, and it trotted forward to accept the apple Casey offered to it.

Holding its prize between its teeth, the Elk pranced back into the trees with its head held high, like a dog parading a toy or his bone back and forth, clearly expecting Casey to follow him.

Such a good boy! Maude cheered sweetly, earning her a toss of the elk’s head. Follow him, Casey. He’ll show us a safe path.