Inkblots: A Tale of Magic, Adventure, and Romance

XXXIII. Winnings

Alia found herself summarily deposited at a table in the common room of an inn, warmed by the fire and near-overwhelmed by the sounds of chatter  and smells of spices and roasting meat. A footman had been dispatched with their packs, and it was only a moment before a harried-looking maid was peering down at her.

"The stew?" she asked Alia. She sounded entirely Beldaran, as did most occupants of this inn. The woman peered toward Kit, seeming confused, which was to be expected since he just stood there instead of taking the other chair.

"Yes, please," Alia said.

"Two bowls?" They looked at the Hero together, but he shook his head cheerfully.

"What?" Alia asked, right over the poor maid, who was in the middle of asking what she would like to drink.

"I'll just wait to settle up for her and be on my way," he told the maid, instead of responding to Alia.

"Miss?" the maid asked again. She shoved a limp strand of hair under her cap, looking incredibly weary.

"Um..." She shot a glare at Kit, deciding that if it was his coin and he was leaving her, she could at least have something nice to drink. "Have you any mulled wine?"

"Of course, miss."

Kit immediately tossed two coins her way and said "Keep to yourself, Alia. I'll be back sometime later. Much later, if all goes well."

He spun on one foot, but Alia cut off his admittedly-splendid departure. "No! Wait! What are you doing?"

She felt that he was barely suppressing an eyeroll, but he sounded courteous enough when he answered. "Sorry. Headed to a nearby gaming house. We need coin, remember? There are two or three along this street, so I won't be far. If you really needed me, I'm sure you could dispatch someone, but you hadn't ought to."

"You'll teach me though? And stop leaving me?" She didn't ask how gambling was possibly a solution to being low on money, though she wanted to.

"Once we're on the ship, yes. Though sometimes I will go places you can't. There will be plenty of time for questions then."

At her aggrieved expression, he added, "The earlier I start, the earlier I'm back, you know. And no decent woman would be allowed inside."

Not feeling particularly decent, Alia glared a moment longer before finally nodding her head in concession. He was off then, without any further ado, slipping through the crowded tables with an excited bounce to his step.

A sigh pushed past her lips when he cleared the doorway. She suddenly felt very alone. Her eyes darted around nervously, taking in the other travelers, but no one so much as glanced her way. And there was the tired maid, weaving across the room with a steaming bowl of soup and a wooden goblet.The sight cheered her just enough, and she set into the food with gusto when it was placed before her on the table.

Smell aside, the stew was mediocre. The big squares of...beef? Were stringy and flavorless, and the potatoes tasted earthy, as though they hadn't been washed. But the wine was wonderful. Sweet, warming, and just a touch bitter from the rich spices.

When the maid offered her a second cup, she agreed quickly. According to the woman, Kit had paid enough to cover plenty of refills. Generous of him, she supposed, even if he couldn't stand to stay here with her.

She nursed at the wine with her eyes closed, thinking of midwinter and her Mami. The kitchens would boil a vat of mulled wine for the winter celebration every year. Her heart ached to think she might never taste it again.

Her third refill had just arrived when the wooden chair across from her scraped outward. The hand on the back of it was distinctly male--as was the man attached to it. He was young, but sported a scraggly blond beard on his chin.