Dragon War by Laurence Yep

Author:Laurence Yep [Yep, Laurence]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: #noisbn
ISBN: 9780064405256
Publisher: Harper Trophy
Published: 1992-01-02T00:00:00+00:00

Night had fallen long since, and the moon-harvest moon, red and full-was up in the mountains to the east. Traders, pilgrims, all manner of travelers had taken advantage of the extra light to make longer journeys, but by now all sensible travelers had made camp or had arrived at inns and homes. Moonlight or no, travel by night could be dangerous. At the Inn of the Waiting Fire, the logs were blazing and the stew pot already empty. A second crock of cider simmered beside it; the barmaid hurried over, filled a pitcher with several scoops of the huge ladle, and crossed to the tables where tonight's guests took up every bench, talking quietly and finishing the last of the bread. The barkeep called across to her, "Refill the cider pot, Peilanne." She nodded, spinning nimbly and gracefully as she set the hot pitcher down, carefully out of reach of the little girl gnawing determinedly at the end of a fresh loaf as the girl's mother stroked and untangled the girl's hair. She stuck another pitcher under the cider barrel and opened the tap. "Are we expecting anyone else, Darien?" He smiled at her. "You never know." He set ale steins one by one on a large tray. "Though the gods know where we'd put them." But a breeze shook the lamp flames as the front door opened. A general cry went up: "Shut that door!" "Frosty out there." "Always a latecomer." As he always did with strangers, Darien eyed them carefully. They were physically unimpressive, of medium height and wiry build. One had black hair, the other brown, and their teeth flashed white as they smiled automatically to the crowd at the tables. All the same, it seemed to Darien that they passed by the tables with complete indifference, as though they were something apart from the local families, the traders, and the travelers. He met them from behind the bar, smiling more broadly than the newcomers had. "And what can I do for you?" One of them spoke. "Is there any supper?" Darien shook his head. "Long since eaten. Look at this crowd; every bed full, locals in to eat as well. Barely any bread left. Didn't you take food for the road?" He glanced at their tiny packs. The two looked at each other. The black-haired one said quickly, "We eat where we can, and only take enough for the day. We've traveled quite a ways." The innkeeper said dubiously, "Traders, are you?" They shook their heads. "Pilgrims?" He added hesitantly, not wishing to be insulting, "Runaway clerics?" The brown-haired man said, "I'm Gannie and this"- he hesitated slightly-"is Kory. We're storytellers." Kory added, "We specialize in telling frightening stories." Gannie glanced around the inn. "This lot looks like they could use the excitement." "Ah." Darien scratched his head. "So there's a living in telling stories, is there?" "If you're good at it." Kory looked pointedly at the ale barrel. Peilanne filled two more steins and drew closer, intrigued.

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