The Riddler's Gift by Greg Hamerton

Author:Greg Hamerton
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Publisher: Eternity Press
Published: 2012-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

The hours passed so swiftly that Tabitha didn’t have the luxury of feeling nervous. She scarcely had the time to find a room in the Boarding, bath, visit May at the Healers, and find something to wear, before Glavenor was due. Garyll had been adamant that the tavern they would dine at was an informal place, suited to traveller’s clothes and relaxed manners, but whether it was out of a soldier’s natural prudence, or in sympathy for Tabitha’s appearance, she wasn’t sure.

She had visited the cutter’s shop in the merchant’s quarter anyway, and purchased a shirt to replace the soot-stained woollen tunic she wore.

It was a fine, indigo garment with a thin lining of fleece that peeped out of the collar and cuffs. The grey woodsman’s pants would have to do with just a brushing—they were clean enough, or dark enough not to be noticed. As she waited for Glavenor to arrive at the Boarding, she twined a few small flowers into her hair.

Garyll had changed his uniform for a coarse red tunic, but his broad sword remained belted at his hip. He was clean-shaven, and his dark hair was drawn close against his head into its customary short tail. He seemed taller at night—he towered over her as they walked the streets of Stormhaven, filling the evening with order, piercing the shadows with a vigilance that was second nature to him.

The first tavern they passed, the familiar Bee, was so full that the patrons had spilled out into the street, and some of the music and sounds of revelry had flowed out through the open door. Garyll led her past the crowds, keeping them on the opposite side of the street. More than one of the patrons looked nervously to the night sky before pushing back into the crush.

Tabitha’s hand rested only gently on Garyll’s arm, yet she could feel the muscles ripple beneath his skin; he was ready and alert, despite his calm exterior. She wondered if it was deliberate that she was on his left side, so that he kept his sword-arm free.

The Traveller was a tavern tucked up against the looming north wall of Stormhaven, right at the point where the Upper District dropped to the Lower. It overlooked the roofs of the merchant’s quarter from its vantage. A crowd plugged the doorway of the Traveller as well, but Garyll drew her aside before they reached it. They entered via a small door in the adjacent alley.

It seemed that they were expected, for a jolly tavern-keeper welcomed them beyond the door, and ushered them through the warm kitchens to a simply furnished but cosy dining room. A fire played in one corner. A wicker screen formed one wall, separating the room from the hubbub and music beyond, though much of it filtered through. Wooden tables, thick reed mats and cushions were ranged about the floor. Almost all of the low tables were occupied. The patrons ranged from middle-aged to old, from well-weathered to genteel.

Many patrons noticed their entrance, and it seemed to become quieter in the room for a moment.

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