🏆 OPEN NOVELLA CONTEST 2022 LONGLISTER 🏆
Mersem Wess, a town boy in the wintery kingdom of Solon, is content with his life collecting timber and admiring Leara Madris, the darling Lady Knight, from afar. His sister, Silke, a girl with a short fuse...
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Mersem rubbed his freezing hands as he sat inside a tavern that was far from toasty. The fireplace had been dormant since he and his company entered and had stayed that way the entire time they were here. They were in the last town separating Hosten and the rural town of Krigisa and despite Leara's apprehension of stopping for the day, they had to if they didn't want to have the sun setting on them while they hike past Pike Mountains.
It's an unfortunate time, at the least, but Fryth had found them the lowest peak out of a series of higher ones and with their chosen route, it would take them another four days and they'd be finding themselves at the first settlement in Krigisa. After that, it's going to be a long, slogging way past the thick forests before they reach the neutral lands.
They didn't have time to waste so Leara wanted to confirm that the neutral territory was where Silke was truly heading. That's why Mersem was out in this dingy tavern smelling of dried vomit and stale beer. "Use that eavesdropping skill of yours for something useful," Leara had told him before they parted. The rest of the bounty hunters went with the lady knight to get more supplies, leaving Mersem on his own.
He blew a breath, watching it crystallize in a foggy cloud in front of him. The barkeep couldn't even provide warmth, much less quality ale. For the past hour, the chatters around him were bland. Just talks of which type of wood was ideal for the oven (premi, obviously), what the latest news about the visiting troupe from Zarasel was (they didn't know any better), and who in the world was the best hunter in all of Krigisa (he didn't care because his father was sure to beat them all). There was no mention of Silke, the hundred thousand bounty, or where she was spotted next.
Mersem glanced past the open windows, noting the position of the sun. Leara and the others would be back soon and if he didn't get anything for them, they might consider disposing of him or leaving him miles away from home. He couldn't have that happen to him since his father would surely kill him and rub it in his face that he didn't have what it took to be a bounty hunter. So, it's time for the second tactic in gathering information—verbal communication.
He stood up from his seat and strode towards the counter where the barkeep was stationed, mixing drinks for the patrons whose foreheads already touched against the hardwood. "Hi," he dropped into the first seat he could find and perched his feet against its footrests as if he perfectly belonged there. "I was hoping you could tell me something."
The barkeep raised a bushy eyebrow. For a man, he was lanky and tall but his eyes carried enough daggers to stab Mersem with it a hundred times. "Hmm?" he said, pouring some concoction in separate glasses. Unlike the wooden cups Mersem commonly saw in taverns back home, why would this one use fragile glass? Wouldn't they crack against the cold?
"Have you heard something about the hundred-thousand-buram notice back in Zarasel?" Mersem tapped a finger against the counter. A hollow sound reflected back to him. So the counter was hollow, huh? "Do you know anyone who could have caught sight of a girl with pale blond hair, an impish face, and ridiculously large ears?"
