The King of Winters

Chapter-126

Asha

The inn commanding the southeast corner of the old Shadowchaser Street held no more than two dozen patrons, most of them were her ironborn, trapped within the castle that had hosted them. The Ghiscari armies surrounding the island upon which Starfall sat had done nothing so far. There had been clouds of dust from beyond the riverbank to the north, the scout above the walls had seen, signalling… something. But that had been days ago and nothing had come of it.

What the Essosi were waiting for, no one knew, though there were no lack for talks. The scouts had seen more barges and ships carrying the sellswords and unsullied coming into the port. For Asha it seemed that half the army of the Essosi masters had joined the siege. “With numbers like that,” Tris had said the day Ser Garrison had led a sortie out during a calm night of low tide burning the siege engines of the enemy, “they’ll be filling the river and swarming over the walls soon enough.” Qarl had been the only one in appreciating the jest. And there had been no assaults after that.

Asha sat at a table near the entrance of the inn, her back to the stone wall beside the wooden room. An ornate light hung from the low-ceiling of the main room, with several branches hit up with several candles keeping the room lit up. A mouse was working its way along the earthen floor beneath the tables, scampering from shadow to shadow, slipping between the shoes or boots of whatever patron its path intersected. Asha watched it go with low-lidded eyes. There was plenty of food to be found in the kitchen still – or so its nose was telling it. That would most likely not last long if the siege kept drawing out.

Her dark eyes flicked up to the smoke-stained main truss spanning the room, where the inn’s cat slept, limbs dangling from the crossbeam. Even the cat has no interest in hunting and preferred to wait instead, for the perfect moment at least.

Asha took another mouthful of the watered wine, more water than wine after nearly two months stranglehold on the castle by the Ghiscari. The other patrons were sitting at a tables or leaning up against the counter. Qarl sat on the table to her left, exchanging words with Rolfe Redhair, as they shared a piece of greased ham.

Of late the inn was crowded by the commonfolk and the soldiers day and night, sharing stories over what little food that could be spared for everyone. Some of the commonfolk who ran to the safety of the castle lived in the common room of the inn within the walls of the mount, nursing the wine and ale provided by Lady Allyria. At night it was mostly the soldiers who assembled there, those who were done with their rounds of duty. They had a desperate energy compared to the smallfolk who were afraid. It seemed like a bluff of enthusiasm to Asha, though not much different from her own.

She looked up as the cat rose on the crossbeam, stretching, his banded black stripes rippling across the dun fur. He cocked his head downward, ears pricking and eying the mouse.

The mouse was at the edge of the kitchen entrance, frozen. For a moment she thought that the cat was going to pounce.

With a loud creak, the inn door swung inward. The cat looked at the door and the mouse darted into the kitchen and out of sight.

Tris Botley stepped inside. He crossed Asha's view and then sank down into the chair beside her.

“You’re predictable enough,” he muttered, as he sat down. “I knew you would be here.”

“Tends to happen when there are hardly any other place to be in a siege,” Asha replied.

“A bloody fucking siege, huh? We're cooped up in here where we aren't supposed to be. You know that—”

“What are you talking about, Tris? We had no other choice.”

“Aye, aye. I heard you the first time, Asha.”