On the main road by which timber and coal were transported to the seashore there stood the biggest inn in Solkh. A woman by the name of Keanmair kept it, with her son Elatha. The inn was called The Drunken Bear, and indeed even a bear could get happily drunk at that inn, and then be turned out by the fearless inn-keeper herself lest he should try to make trouble. On the tavern sign there was a bear painted, with striped pants on, holding a cask of ale in his furry paws.
The place whither Ashurran stepped out of nowhere to Yunan's soil was not far from The Drunken Bear. No wonder that she dropped in. As she sat at an oak table in the spacious hall she was amazed to notice that everyone there was speaking a foreign language but she understood it as perfectly as her native speech. Ashurran was glad beyond measure because she remembered still her first days and weeks in Lankmar when she barely could utter a word in Lankmarin and had to make signs and point at things.
She ordered venison and some partridge with a tankard of ale and enjoyed her food listening to the talks and watching the patrons and the inn-keeper.
Keanmair was a woman in her prime, ruddy and buxom, merry and lively as a bird. She clearly was a real beauty in her youth, but now the roses of her cheeks withered a little, her golden hair were streaked with silver, and she became round in the middle. But her eyes were as young as ever, lovely and bright. She was quite an armful, with soft skin and pleasant curves, plump like a bun, her voice sweet like honey. She had no end of men who besieged her with marriage proposals. But she turned them all down, not because they were not worthy, but because they were all worthy, and she didn't want to choose only one.
Her son Elatha inherited all her best features: her shining grey eyes, her hair like golden corn, her lips crimson like a rose, her smooth and pale skin. They were as much unlike one another as a porcelain cup and a clay tankard, but the pattern they both were after still showed. Looking at the son, anyone could easily see his mother young and beautiful still.
Ashurran was quite astonished seeing the inn-keeper's son flirt with male patrons, sit on their laps sometimes and even kiss them on the sly. Not a soul seemed to frown upon such behavior, except for the worthy mistress herself. She slapped her son's bottom and ordered him to pay more attention to feeding the guests than to entertaining them.
She mused loudly and merrily, "That's probably because I always wanted a daughter! Wanted a daughter and gave birth to a son, as pretty as a girl and as wanton as one! He does nothing else, except running after men. Where shall I get my grandchildren?"
"Don't worry, mistress!" one of the patrons said. "Let him have his fun before sticking him with a wife and squalling babies!"
"I'd say let him have his fun with lords, or rich folk at least, who could pay for their wine, not drink it on credit!"
Elatha listened to the squabble smirking secretly into his sleeve. It was obvious he had heard it a million times and paid no heed to his mother's reproach.
Ashurran was amused by those customs, for she had seen nothing of the kind in Irshawan.
The evening was approaching, and The Drunken Bear became quite crowded. The perky boy forgot his dalliances as he was tirelessly running about the hall with tankards and plates. Ashurran happily followed his slim figure with her eyes. But more often than not she looked elsewhere, to the bar counter where the golden-haired mistress was pouring drinks.
Suddenly there was a rowdy gang at the door, about ten strong. Their leader was a stout young man with a long moustache. His clothes were rich, made of an embroidered silk, yet stained and mended very roughly in places. His cloak was of red velvet, but shabby and looked like it was from someone else's back. The young man flaunted a ring with a huge ruby, a fake no doubt. The whole gang was armed to the teeth and quite intoxicated already. In short, everything about them gave them away as 'knights of the road' (as one would say allegorically not wanting to use plain words like 'brigands').
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Gates to Glory: Epic Fantasy Adventure Tale (Ashurran #1)
Adventure[FINISHED]She was born in a tribe of fierce female warriors. Swords and spears have been her toys from the cradle. She has the only path before her, to become the tribe chief after her mother. Yet Ashurran dreams of strange lands, of bigger battles...
