There was a dull thump as she tapped her boots. Some crusted snow fell away and trickled into the brown-white mass piled at the feet of the steps. A soft creak sounded as she finally stepped across the narrow porch, and with a brief smirk at the corner of her mouth, she remembered that this one floorboard had always groaned. Even under the weight of a child when she had reached out to grab the door handle. Aeryn emitted a soundless snort before pushing open the door to the tavern. Behind the entrance, the cold winter air first encountered a narrow wall that intercepted the frosty winds for now. A few coats were already hanging in the small alcove.
The tavern's interior was relatively quiet - no wonder at this hour. Most people were surely going about their daily work to get through the brutal winter. The taproom would only fill up as the frozen men warmed up here after their work was done. Nevertheless, even at this time, one found the one or other 'permanent guest': Two older gentlemen sat by the fire, puffing in their pipes and lost in conversation about ancient times. Someone was lying half over the table in one corner, and at another, a couple of older men were sitting... They were always there - the drunkards to be found in the tavern. Aeryn gave them only a brief, scrutinizing glance and nodded - rural courtesy done - and strode forward into the room's warmth.
Now, as they walked past the wooden buttress toward the bar, her eyes fell on the innkeeper. The tall man with graying hair and broad upper arms had once worked as a miner in the mountains before it was closed after an accident. Everyone was glad when he took over the tavern because the robust guy always had the situation with the drunken guests quickly under control. The soft splashing told her he was in the tub behind the sink cleaning the glasses from the night before when he finally raised his eyes. Brown eyes widened in disbelief as he realized who had stepped into the dull dark interior.
"A-Aeryn?!" he groaned, and a loud splash dropped the glass back into the soap tub. Water splashed wet spots on his chest and stomach. It looked as if he thought he saw a ghost before he caught himself and became aware of the other man. The innkeeper's shoulders ruffled, then he hastily wiped his hands on a well-worn cloth and hurried around the counter. Other glances were now raised in the parlor; at the table of the drunkard's, something was slurred and some brow furrowed. The attention shifted, but Aeryn did not let it distract her.
She just nodded in affirmation, and her gaze slid over the tall figure of the host. A brown apron with a few stains lay around his body, closed with a slanted knot at the side and looking rather carelessly thrown over. Wrinkles had now dug into the aged face she remembered younger, and faint circles under the eyes drew a furtive worry and evidence of little sleep under the otherwise vigilant eyes. He hurried around the long counter, his non-tunable weight making his footsteps thump on the wooden floor like punches. Although he was a respectful man, an honest smile softened his features. Exuberantly, he embraced the girl he hadn't seen in nearly a decade and whose father he had once called one of his closest friends.
"I'm glad to see you well, Edward," said Aeryn kindly, hugging the host back briefly and studiously ignoring the expectant look to Roman. "I can't believe it! We all thought you were..." Edward's words huffed, which was almost cute given the dark voice, as he kept his hands on her upper arms and eyed her up and down.
"You've gotten so big... I'm glad to see you safe and sound," he continued, then cleared his throat before lowering his strong hands. Now his eyes turned to the man at Aeryn's side, and his smile grew wider if that was even possible. It did not escape Aeryn's notice that his gaze slid over Roman in one go, very scrutinizing and measuring. Apparently, he was pleased with what he saw there, for he nodded as if putting a check mark under a mental list.
"And this must be your husband?" he said, unabashedly reaching for Roman's hand.
Aeryn almost laughed out loud. She bit down on the rising sound just in time, but a soft chuckle still passed her lips. Hah, in this tiny town, it was still all about who got married to whom, had children, had an affair, killed which deer, who hauled in the most wood...Thievingly she peeked to the side, suppressing the grin lips convulsively and with moderate success. The corners of her mouth twitched treacherously a little higher. '
Cut them some slack,' she begged her leader in her mind and with her gaze, even if she didn't speak it. Now, this was a small, very devout backwater. A young woman alone with a man - or several? Unthinkable! Had her reputation not been the best before... but now? Where had she arrived independently with a group of rough guys? Already Aeryn knew without a doubt that there would surely be talk.
Quickly, she took pity on herself to clear up the misunderstanding before it might become annoying to Roman.
"Well, no, actually, he's not," she relented, smiling wryly, "he's my traveling companion."
She saw the disappointment and surprise in Edward's features, his expression changing almost by the second. Once again, Edward's gaze latched onto Roman. This time, however, suspicion and skepticism visibly poured into his face as he eyed the stranger again, his eyes lingering for a second longer on his unfamiliar high-end clothing and sword. Aeryn didn't introduce Roman - she didn't have to, and she knew it. Usually, he stepped forward and did the talking, and as the oldest of the group and the leader, he would retake the helm himself soon enough. So instead, she continued with her request:
"Which brings me to why I'm actually coming to you: We need something to eat, preferably hot, and it should have meat in it. A carafe of ale, hot mead, and a goblet of wine for me. Ah- and most importantly, do you have any spare rooms? And the possibility of a bath?"
God, she almost started laughing again. This was Fuchsbergen. The rooms in the tavern were indeed dustier than a hidden crypt in the woods. As children, she and Henry had once climbed in through the window and had... well, almost completely transformed it, painting walls and floor alike completely with pictures made of chalk. By the time Edward discovered the 'artwork,' they had forgotten about it. But they had seriously wanted to 'spruce up' the room at the time. Well - they did, anyway.
By now, she was sure Henry had known the little rascal would be less of a gift than a prank. The older boy had always had a lot of fluff in his head... Be that as it may. Indeed Edward had to get the rooms ready first. It was the first time anyone strayed into Fuchsbergen since the trade with the furs had come to a standstill. Maybe the one or other trader - but one room is enough for that. But they would need all of them. In such a small village, accommodation could have been improved. If Aeryn was honest, she didn't even know if Edward would have enough room. When she was taken away, she was a young girl and had other things on her mind than being interested in the number of rooms in the tavern.
The innkeeper cleared his throat, noticeably embarrassed by the wrong assumption, and looked more closely at Roman and Aeryn before nodding.
"How many rooms do you need?" And then came the question that interested him much more urgently: "What brings you to Fuchsbergen?" which seemed to be addressed to Roman in particular, "And how long... are you going to stay?"
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YOU ARE READING
Wolf Moon
Werewolf*In the village of Fuchsbergen werewolves torment the small community. So they put all their hopes in the new hirelings - and have no idea that they are infamous Red Hunters. A battle full of violence, intrigue, love, and betrayal begins. Soon wolf...