Laurie Marks by The Watcher's Mask

Author:The Watcher's Mask
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Published: 2012-06-03T19:55:16+00:00

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Chapter 13

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The rhythmic, musical jangling of bells awoke me from the luxury of a sound sleep. Insa slept beside me, one hand fisted around a rope of hair. From across the room, I heard the rumble of Tord’s snore. The closed shutters kept the room gloomy, but thin shreds of light in the cracks of the shutters told me that day had dawned. Faintly, from the street below, I heard the sound of someone loudly singing off key.

I got out of bed and opened the sash and shutters, cracking through the crusted snow which blocked the sill. The snowfall had petered out in the night, and now the clouds were breaking up overhead, like ice in a lake, letting the weakling sun shine through. With daybreak, the village had come alive: bundled, busy figures dotted the snow, clearing the walkways, skiing down the street, or chatting, knee-deep in the middle of the road. Immediately below my window, a steaming horse with a red sleigh behind stood at the front porch of the inn. A shaggy, broad-shouldered figure levered a heavy bag out of the sleigh and slung it over a shoulder. An early morning delivery? Thoughtful, I closed the window and shutters once again.

Downstairs, the sleigh driver sat in the warm, abandoned tavern, her shaggy bearskin coat steaming by the fire. She chatted with the innkeeper as she sipped from a steaming, fragrant cup. “Is that chocolate?” I asked from the doorway, amazed. Apparently, the trappers who frequented this inn, having no household to support and no real need to plan for the future, could rather casually dispose of their incomes. Even in the coastal cities, chocolate was an expensive luxury. The innkeeper beckoned me over, bellowing for someone to bring me a cup.

“You slept well, eh?” he said. “Best beds in the central mountains.” He introduced me to the sleigh driver, Newel, an older woman than I. Her broad, muscular shoulders came from managing the horses, I guessed. I asked her if she had traveled from one of the outlying farms.

“I make a three-day run from here to Calinton and back again. I should’ve arrived yesterday, but I got trapped in the storm.”

“Calinton is below the snow line, isn’t it?”

“Not quite, but another day’s journey will take you out of the mountains, for sure.”

My chocolate arrived. I sipped it delicately: it was as good as any they served in the Emperor’s palace, strong and sweet and bitter. “Do you take passengers?”

“More often than not.”

The innkeeper gave me a sharp, curious look. “It’s rare that the Asakeiri travel far. I don’t suppose you’re off to see your Adline run before the Emperor?”

That I might need an explanation for taking a journey at so unpropitious a time of year had not occurred to me. Nor had I expected to be mistaken for an Asakeiri woman. But I answered quickly, “Of course I am. It will give her luck, to run before friends.”

“Well, that’s a whole new matter. Adline is practically one of our own.

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