Taniel (The Taverner's Daughter I)

38: Taniel

I hugged the bundle of soiled linen to me and studied the tidied dining room. After collecting the kitchen cloths on the way to the laundry, I eased into the dark until I felt the wickerwork of the crate against my knees. Dropping the load, I was pleased that I had finished my work before suppers were due.

I returned to the kitchen.

"Good timing," Erin said, looking up from the cups she had just filled. She passed one to me. The sharp tang of lemons filled my nostrils as Erin picked up the other drinks and returned to the common room.

One must be for Peter, I thought. Father would not be drinking juice this time of the night. I rubbed the cold container over my cheeks and forehead, relishing the coolness on my heated skin. I sat on a kitchen stool and sipped the bitter sweetness.

I sighed. I must stop sighing.

I needed answers. I could not tap on doors upstairs until I found the right one. Erin might know which room Dax was in, but how would I go about asking her?

"We're in luck, only two suppers, tonight." Erin said on her return. She dropped the empty cups and some tankards into the sink and, fetching the kettle, she filled the little teapots with boiling water. Picking up one prepared tray, she nodded to the other. "That one goes to room eight. Then you can call it a night. I'm glad you pitched in, we'd never have managed without you."

Erin studied my face. "Are you feeling better, now?" she asked. "You looked ragged before."

"I just need some sleep." I swallowed the last of the lemon. "Thanks for the drink." I pushed the stool back into place and took the tray. I dare not draw attention to myself by asking unusual questions.

"See you in the morning," I said.

Erin was still looking at me intently, as though she knew I wanted to ask her the number of Dax's room.

Unsettled by her stare, I dropped my eyes to the tray in my hands. I stifled a gasp. Dax's name was scrawled beside the room number. I looked up to find Erin busy holding the kitchen door open with her hip, waiting for me to pass.

My heart pounded as I led the way up the stairs. A strange sensation swept my stomach and spread to my lower limbs. My head reeled. The feeling was vaguely familiar, but I could not put a memory to it.

All too soon, I stood outside room eight. My future might well be beyond that door. I eased the edge of the supper tray over my forearm, freeing up my hand.

I knocked.

***

20 March 2017 - replaced with revised version

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