34 Autumn 218
The Inn at Smuggler’s Port in Galoring
Warbler
It had been quite the journey to get here … to Galoring … to the beating heart of the barony. This was the source … the nest where the swans had spread their wings and flown far and wide in all directions. They’d landed in towns and villages. They’d crossed borders and traversed countrysides; picking the bones of their prey clean as they passed, and destroying what they didn’t find useful.
As the Tide’s Song had approached from the river the cityscape had spread to the ends of Warbler’s vision, and he’d never felt so small. Once they’d arrived on the docks the sights and sounds were overwhelming.
I can’t believe I’m actually here … Ringo thought to himself as he stared into the bottom of his mug of ale. This place makes Northgate look like a country inn.
Folk could get lost in a place like this …
I bet they do all the time …
He finished the last of his pint, let out a yawn, a long stretch, and realized that he and the barkeep were just about the only folk left in the room.
“Huh, lost track of time I guess,” he said to the man at the bar. He glanced to his left at the fella snoring, head resting on his folded arms, and gave him a respectful nod. He repeated the gesture to the barkeep, paid for his drink, and made his way up to the room Ethan had procured for them.
Ethan
Ethan sat on the edge of the small, sagging mattress near the center of the room. Grisham lay two cots away, nearest the window. The room held five cots stuffed into the mostly unfurnished room; each could be rented out individually, but Ethan had paid for the entire room to afford the men some degree of privacy… and to reduce the odds of bunking with a snorer. Unfortunately, Grisham had this affliction and it was not subtle.
On most nights this would bother Ethan but his mind was distracted. He was not concerned by Grisham’s fitful, unconscious gasps of air. His mind was fixed on a name.
“…the Fairchild girl….” The bartender had said.
Ellie… he thought.
For years, anytime he thought of his sister he was almost overwhelmed by a desperate, panicked feeling. Any instance of an alarmed parent losing sight of their child in a marketplace triggered this.
The distress fueled a compulsion to start running, searching for the person he knew was gone. To shout her name into the crowd and dig his way through the mass of bodies until he discovered her somewhere nearby.
Completely irrational. Totally useless. And yet, it had persisted for years.
When this happened, if he was with others, he would excuse himself and find an isolated place where he could close his eyes and clutch his chest until his heart slowed and his breathing returned to normal.
The door to their room squeaked open and Ringo stepped inside. Ethan saw him out of the corner of his eye but his stare remained focused on the small table across from him. He seemed transfixed by the small bucket resting near the edge and its slow leak. Water, pooling at the desk’s edge moments before, now slowly sliding down the table’s leg, towards the two copper pieces hidden underneath as they worked hopelessly to level the uneven surface balancing the broken pale above.
He thought Ringo might simply climb into bed or turn in after a perfunctory ‘good night,’ but Warbler had other ideas. He didn’t hear what the Halfling said the first time.
“What was that…?” he asked, begging Ringo to repeat himself.
Warbler
Ringo quickly scanned the room, first with his eyes, then his ears, but was assaulted by the scent of it staggering a half step as he opened the door.
This place smelled like a dog that had spent the whole day running through a swamp before diving into a barrel of ale and shaking himself dry.
“Oh, I um … I said … how much did you pay for this room? It seems like we might have gotten swindled,” Warbler repeated a bit louder realizing he had accidentally covered his nose and mouth in response to the affront to his senses the first time.
Ethan
“Two silver per bed - a gold piece would cover it but you don’t flash that kind of coin when renting a room like this. It’s bad enough we had to pay the cover at the docks - that bribe doesn’t make us invisible, it just announces our arrival to different people. Hopefully, to people who respect the need to be discreet but still you can bet more than just him know we’re here…
“He reports to someone. That someone will get their take of his collections plus information about the potential ‘trouble’ that paid for his discretion. It’s likely why we’re here to begin with - why he sent us to rent a room here, specifically. Someone is going to put eyes us until they know what we’re here for.”
He shakes his head. “Paying him the full amount to cover our asses was a mistake. Should have stuck with the basic fee - those go unnoticed. Potential trouble gets special attention.”
He sighs. “On the bright side, it does give us a tiny bit of insurance. If something goes down, we at least won’t piss off the boss around here. Well… less likely to piss them off. We still need to be subtle.”
He moves back until he is resting against the headboard, closing his eyes and leaning his weight against the warped wooden frame, faded and worn from the innumerable guests who used it in the past.
“But,” he said, his tone lightening but still threaded with sarcasm, “the room fee covers the tab for the meal tonight and breakfast in the morning. We’ve technically paid for extra meals, so I hope you’re hungry…”
Warbler
Warbler slides a crate over to one side of the room as Ethan speaks. He hops up onto it, so that he can open a window to let in a little fresh air. Well … fresher air …
He pauses for a moment and cocks his head to the side as his eyes dart up and to the right at the mention of what was covered on their tab.
His eyes narrow.
Did I … pay double for the food and drink downstairs? He briefly ponders before dismissing the thought.
“You got all that from the exchange with the folks at the docks? It, uh, it sounded like you were just haggling for a better price …” he says as he turns around with a smile and plops down cross legged on the crate, a slight breeze of brackish air billowing in from the river.
“Never quite got the hang of that in larger towns and cities. Folks don’t ever seem to say what they mean. Just dance around with words instead of getting right to the point. I’m … I might need an interpreter.”
Ethan
Ethan glances towards Warbler, tearing his eyes away from the sagging table for the first time in a long while.
“No,” he admits. “It’s just a guess. I’m basing it on Last Harbor and the way their docks worked - the way most cities seem to work: everyone works for someone and information is a valuable commodity.”
“The potential…” he pauses as of considering how to describe her. “The potential contact that we have here is someone who runs a fairly tight ship - dock pun not intended (although I feel confident Roux would approve). More than likely the dockhand reports to her or someone like her.”
He smiles hesitantly, almost sheepish. “I’m guessing again… but it feels right.”
“Anyway, you don’t need an interpreter. You’ve already got it down - people often don’t say what they mean. All you need to do is pay attention and try to understand what they want. If you can figure that out, then you’ll catch their true meaning whether they want you to or not. It just takes practice.”
Warbler
“I guess … but It’d be simpler for all involved if folks just spoke plainly …” Warbler mumbles looking down at his hands as he fidgets with a variety of seeds.
“So … is that, I mean … are we heading to meet this potential contact first? Or … did I hear someone say something about a Fairchild girl? Is that a common name? You have any long lost family members just roaming about …?”
Ethan
“The name is common enough but luck isn’t on my side. I have two sisters - or I did, at least. Last I heard they were both still alive and it looks as though one of them is setting up for a very public union…”
Ethan had a hard time imagining Victoria fitting into any world where pomp and circumstance were essential elements of keeping up appearances. Her greatest qualities stemmed from her strength and grace - she was, in many ways, a more cunning and less arrogant version of Roland. In childhood, Roland was her greatest competition as much as he was her idol.
But marriage? To nobility? She was too honest. Too direct. Too… averse to bullshit.
But Ellie…
Ethan didn’t like to think of what she may have experienced in these past years. But if she needed to survive, he could see her adapting.
Yes, he decided. It was almost certainly Ellie. And that complicated things… but he wouldn’t need to share this with Warbler. Not yet.
“But that’s for later. For these next few days, it won’t change anything. Not really. Our objectives stay the same.
“We need to meet up with the contact. Then navigate our way towards the Cathedral. We need to focus on staying together and remaining unnoticed…”
Warbler
“Makes sense … one step at a time …” Ringo said as he stared out the window in the room whose scent was rapidly becoming more tolerable.
As the sounds of the city punctuated by the rhythmic lapping of the river against the shore washed over him, Warbler considered those next few steps.
Meet their contacts, find a way into the Cathedral, stay out of trouble, and if all goes well activate that magic circle to bring reinforcements right in behind the Baroness’ walls.
The witches had gotten him here. Trusted him, accepted him, and even put up with his myriad of eccentricities. They were good folk … even the ones that would never admit it to themselves. There was no need to get them tangled up in his personal reasons for being here. The lines and patterns of their journey all just fit; their goals so seamlessly aligned.
“I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t a little nervous …” he said as he pivoted on the crate to face Ethan again. “but … we have to, I mean … I know we’ll succeed.”
“Do you think we’ll have time to see the gardens?” Ringo said with a wide grin.
Ethan
“I don’t know. There are a lot of things that are unknown at this point. I know the direction we’re headed and the destination we’re trying to reach… but the path we take has a lot of blind spots.
“Are the gardens important? Do you need to go there? Is that why you’ve come all this way? Some seeds or saplings to help regrow the forest - your home - that was burned…?”
Warbler
“Oh … no, nothing like that. The way Miss Carter described them … they just sounded nice is all, and … well some of the plants are probably older than the city itself. I just thought … maybe they’d share a story or two …
“Some things don’t grow back ya’know …” he says flatly still fiddling with the seeds in his palms. “I left that behind a while ago. Home’s just a memory now.”
He tilts his head curiously towards Ethan. “Sorry if I wandered in and talked your ear off … I, I um, I can never sleep the first night in a new place … happy to keep watch and all that. I certainly won’t hear any trouble approaching,” he says with a nod towards Grisham as he sputters out another loud erratic breath.
Ethan
Ethan laughs, glancing at Grisham. “That’s enough to mask cannon fire from the next room.”
“But also,” he continued, offering a wry smile, “I’ve seen how you keep watch. I am not reassured by your offer.” He smiles in a way that he hopes to convey the blow was not intended to be anything more than playful.
Growing more serious, he continues, “No. I’ve got plenty on my mind to keep me awake for a bit longer. But thank you.”
He hesitates for a moment, contemplating before he continues.
“I’ve been thinking about something earlier though. Something I’ve noticed. You don’t look comfortable in the city…”
Ethan continued to speak. His thoughts meandered until, at last, they coalesced into the point - he suggested that rather than Ringo working to become confident and comfortable with the city, he should become someone else entirely, a new man with a new name for their time spent here. Ethan hoped that this role would allow the Halfling’s inner strength to shine through without the filter of timidity that he appeared to be his default.
By the time that he finished, Ringo agreed to consider it.
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