The Rage Eater

Chapter 6: A Song for Warrior Devi

Even without a bard's tune, the tavern was alive with music: the steady drumbeat of ale-filled tankards pounding old wooden tables, the booming bass of men's laughter, the tinkling of forks and knives scratching well-worn plates. And yet, one voice soared above them all, a voice rich with power and bursting with confidence.

"And just as that orc was about to take a swing at me," Devi said, "Red here stuck him with his horn." With their eyes wide and mouths agape, the table full of townies looked like children listening to the best bedtime story. "Filthy green thing started crying like a baby," she continued, tossing a baked potato to Red. "Just pitiful." The giant beastly swallowed the potato whole, then let out a satisfied belch, sending Devi and her admirers into spasms of laugher.

Sadie watched all this from the kitchen as she dried the dripping-wet dishes her mother passed to her.

"Mother, please!" Sadie said. "If they haven't sent a pigeon yet, Devi could talk to them, tell them I'd make a great Warrior."

"First, you lie to me," Gillian said, wiping her wet hands with a rag. "Again. And now you want to serve Devi, our ruler? You deserve no such thing. Besides, she expects to be served by the head of the house, not a child."

Gillian stirred a giant pot of simmering stew with a long wooden spoon.

"You never let me do anything!"

"Sadie, enough."

"I hate it here. And I can't wait to win a scholarship so I can leave."

Gillian banged the spoon against the side of the pot, then placed in on the table. "You can hate it here. You can hate me. But you will not set one foot outside this tavern for a month. And tonight, unless someone asks you a question, you don't speak. Especially to Devi."

"Fine!"

Seething with anger, Sadie walked through the kitchen doors with a wet rag in her fist. She made her way to a messy table by the tavern's entrance and wiped away the bits of food and sticky splotches of ale, doing her best to hear Devi amongst the clamour of rowdy patrons.

"You reckon that orc you smashed was one of those ooms?" asked Hershel, the blacksmith.

Devi took a sip of ale. "OWMs," she corrected. "Orcs without Masters. And he was indeed. The other orcs stay in the Badlands. Like they're supposed to."

Sadie turned her head as she heard the tavern door groan open. It was George, wearing his finest brown tunic and grinning from ear to ear. With an actor's flair, he moved through the crowded room with his lute held high.

"Devi, how about a song from a humble bard to honour your glory? Perhaps 'Devi the Gouger' or 'Devi the Guts-Spiller'? They're both originals."

Sadie cringed. It was uncouth for any but the finest bard to bestow a title upon a Warrior in song.

Devi slammed down her tankard, spraying the table with ale. "I don't need reminding of my glory in battle, melonhead. I lived it. So take your battered old lute and be gone."

Red-faced, George clutched his lute tight to his chest, and scurried through the common room and out the door. Sadie watched him with a pang of sympathy. It was cruel to humiliate someone, but he'd brought it upon himself.

She returned to the kitchen and dunked the now-filthy rag in a pot of hot soapy water, thinking of how best she could talk to Devi without incurring the wrath of her mother or Devi herself.

Gillian walked past Sadie with two bowls of hot stew. "I said silent, not scowling."

"Yes, mother," Sadie said, rolling her eyes as she wrung the rag.

The only way she could speak to Devi was if the Warrior spoke first. But why would one of the greatest Warriors alive ever talk to me? Sadie thought.

Sadie wrung the rag once more and looked out at her hero, who was tipping back her tankard and taking another gulp of ale.

Sadie smiled.

Devi is going to want another drink, she thought. And when she does, I'll be there.

Sadie wiped the table slowly, glancing up to make sure that her mother was still busying herself in the kitchen. For her plan to work, the timing would have to be just right.

At Devi's table, Bertrand, a farmer with a bushy beard and a mind as dull as a sea stone, said, "You think the OWMs snatched Caleb Reynard?"

Renowned for its savagery in battle, Clan Reynard guarded the Badlands borders, ensuring orcs never strayed outside. Within Clan Reynard, there was no Warrior more feared and respected than Caleb, a man whose reputation, as Sadie had to admit, eclipsed even Devi's. Which was why it was so odd when Caleb and his beastly Kai, a vicious wolverine that moved like a shadow and struck like a Warhammer, simply disappeared one day while out on patrol.

Bertrand went on, his fear-tinged voice barely above a whisper, "Because I heard he got kidnapped by the Rogue Wizard. Turned him mad. Some folks say they saw him wandering near the Tower of Gare in the North, his eyes all wild."

Devi took a deep swig of ale. Her tankard was almost empty.

"Wild eyes?" Devi said mockingly, wiping foam from her lips.

Everyone but Bertrand laughed.

"One red and one black. My cousin Terry heard it from his mate Lenny, and Lenny swore on his children."

Devi drained her tankard.

This is it, Sadie thought as she made a show of finishing wiping the table and began walking towards the kitchen.

Devi leaned in so close to Bertrand that their noses were almost touching. "No orc took down Caleb Reynard, and the Rogue Wizard hasn't been seen in years. If Caleb is lost, it's probably because he's been drinking ale instead of out patrolling." She relaxed in her chair, then stared into her tankard. She eyed Sadie. "Hey, serving girl. More ale."

Sadie took the tankard from Devi, hoping her hand wouldn't shake. "Right away, Warrior Devi." When she rushed into the kitchen, her mother was waiting, looking down at her with arms crossed.

"Bring her the ale and don't say a word," said Gillian. "Understood?"

"Understood," Sadie repeated. She poured the ale into the tankard, careful not to make it too foamy.

Sadie pushed through the kitchen doors and walked towards Devi's table, tightly clutching the precious tankard. Her mother could punish her as long as she wanted. But an opportunity like this would not come again. Not before the Academy made its decision.

"Your ale, Warrior Devi."

Without acknowledging Sadie, Devi took a deep sip. Then, noticing that Sadie hadn't moved, she turned to face her. "Is there something you want, girl?"

Someone coughed into the sudden quiet. Sadie drew a deep breath. "Devi, I'm so sorry to bother you, but I applied for a scholarship at Barrett's Academy. And I was hoping you might have a word with the administration. Because I want to be like you, to bond to a beastly and fight orcs, and a scholarship is my only chance." Sadie, now breathless, forced a smile, cursing herself for sounding so foolish.

Devi scowled. "Be like me? I am born of royal blood. You are lowborn. I am a Warrior. You are a serving girl. You will never raise a sword and you will never bond to a beastly. Now stick to what you know and go fetch me some stew."

Sadie's stomach curled in knots, and her lungs burned as if filled with boiling water. Just as she began to cry, she dashed out of the dining room, through the kitchen, and upstairs to her room.