Misfortune of Song by Christy Nicholas

Author:Christy Nicholas [Nicholas, Christy]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Tirgearr Publishing
Published: 2018-04-03T18:00:00+00:00

Chapter 9

Maelan pulled his brat closer around his shoulders. The pernicious mists refused to burn away, and the first village had provided no clues to his granddaughter’s whereabouts. They approached the second village with low spirits and lower expectations.

A tiny tavern perched on the rocky coast. Eógan smiled, his head lifting. “We can at least enjoy a drink! The sun is setting anyhow. We can start again in the morning. Hopefully, the sun will appear for once!”

Maelan grunted. He didn’t want a drink. He must find Orlagh and go home. His chief had either panicked or become outraged at Maelan’s truancy by now. The fact they’d not yet been found by any messenger was no solace. What if the Ostmen had attacked while Maelan was gallivanting around the countryside on his mad personal quest? What if the Ui Conchobar had launched a massive raid? What if Diarmait’s brother, Murtough, had risen from his deathbed and deposed Diarmait? This wouldn’t be the first time. Each brother had bested the other countless times before.

The door squeaked when Eógan pushed in, and a lone man sat at a keg. He glanced up from his drink, bloodshot eyes peering out from the gloom.

Eógan pulled a coin from his purse and slapped the copper on the barrel. “Three mugs of your good drink, sir!”

The man grunted and shuffled to the back wall. He selected some mugs from the jumbled shelves and proceeded to pour a mug for each of them. Maelan peered at his. The stuff was darker than he liked, but it didn’t smell bad. The brew was yeasty and thick. He took an experimental sip and raised his eyebrows at Utromma. This wasn’t a half-bad brew; bitter and strong, but tasty. Utromma narrowed her eyes and followed his example. She smiled after she tasted it, and Eógan settled on a bench by the wall. The roundhouse had room for at least twenty people, but they were the only guests.

Eógan nodded to the owner. “Not much for conversation, eh?”

The man grunted, wiped his lips on the back of his sleeve, and ignored them. Eógan gave a half-smile and drank half his mug in one gulp.

Utromma looked into her now-empty mug. “Should we find real shelter tonight, or will we set up tents once again?”

Maelan peered out through the still-open door. Twilight was well past, and full dark had fallen. The mist continued to cling to everything, permeating his very bones. All he desired at this point was to be warm and dry, but such comforts weren’t likely this night. Eógan sighed. “Tents, more’s the pity. Do you really expect anything that looks like a guesthouse in this place?”

Maelan smiled that his friend’s thoughts so echoed his own. He nodded at Eógan and finished his own mug. He pulled a coin from his purse. The ale was too good for just one mug.

“Another round. Where is everyone tonight? You must be used to more custom.”

The man nodded. “Wedding.”

That would explain the empty tavern. This man likely had few friends or was too greedy to close his tavern even for a slow night.

Download

Copyright Disclaimer:
This site does not store any files on its server. We only index and link to content provided by other sites. Please contact the content providers to delete copyright contents if any and email us, we'll remove relevant links or contents immediately.