CHAPTER 38
The King’s Arms was the finest inn around. After they first met, Balthus and Adrianna had stayed there and it held special meaning for them. Whenever they were in Freetown and had the coin, it was their first choice. Balthus liked the personal service and Adrianna loved the enormous bathtubs supplied with hot water from coal furnaces on the inn’s roof.
Balthus finished toweling off and began dressing. “You’re going to wrinkle up like an old shirt,” he said to Adrianna.
She sank lower into the steaming hot water. “I don’t care, this feels too wonderful. You can iron my wrinkles later.”
Balthus halted his dressing and thought for a moment. “I can do that,” he said, smiling. “But right now, I’m going down to the tavern and have some of the Arms’ fine bitter ale and wait for Rolf. Will you be down later?”
“Yes. Why don’t you invite Rolf to dine with us. I know he rarely gets the kind of quality fare they serve at the Arms.”
“Good idea. I’ll see you downstairs then,” he said, and left the room.
“Sweetheart?” she called after him.
Balthus stuck his head back into the bathroom. “Yes, Love?”
“Try to stay out of trouble, please?”
“I guarantee, uh, that is, I definitely, well…” He lowered his head and shook it slowly. “I’ll try, Love, I’ll try.” He let out a long sigh and closed the door.
Balthus played rich man and used his title often when staying at the King’s Arms. The King had installed him as “Knight Peer of the Realm” for his service during the southern frontier border wars. The title of ‘Sir’ came with the award. It seemed to be what the Arms found necessary in a customer and he felt obliged to use it.
The Arms’ manager greeted Balthus on the stairwell and asked if his room was suitable. Then he asked about the service, the food, the décor. Balthus, anxious to get to his ale, gave him a quick “wonderful,” and slipped him a silver, which he knew had been the manager’s aim all along.
Balthus entered the tavern section and found an empty table in a corner. He chose a seat that put his back against the wall. From there, he could watch everyone in the room. Even though he was in the finest inn at Freetown, old habits died hard.
“Hello, handsome. What can I get for you today?” said a young and pretty serving girl. She wore her off-the-shoulder blouse pulled low and her skirt hitched up.
“A tankard of your bitter ale would be fine,” he said. He spied Rolf coming in the door. “Better make that a pitcher and two mugs.”
“Coming right up.” She disappeared with a flash of shapely leg.
“Rolf!” yelled Balthus and he motioned his friend over to the table. He stood and they shook hands. “Good of you to make it.”
“With you buying the rounds, no problem,” said Rolf. He took the seat across from Balthus.
The serving girl returned with the drinks. She leaned over the table, her low-cut blouse displaying her more than ample charms. “Will there be anything else a girl can do for you, handsome?” she asked Balthus.
“Yes, keep the pitcher full, would you, doll? We’ve got a lot of catching up to do.”
“You just wiggle your finger and I’ll come.” She winked and left to serve another patron.
“Looks like you’ve found a friend there,” said Rolf, watching the serving girl depart.
Balthus shrugged. “It must be a slow night. But tell me, what have you been up to these last – what has it been, two years?”
“Aye, it has.” Rolf rubbed the back of his neck with his thick calloused hand. “Well, nothing too exciting. The Lancers have been keeping me busy. There seems to be more Torbu, bandits, rogue Morgurs, and more plain fools than ever before.” He stopped, took a long pull at his mug, and uttered a deep sigh of contentment. Wiping his mouth with the back of his sleeve, he continued. “The Arvari have been seen in the eastern forests. What could push them out of their northeastern homelands is beyond me.” He took another long drink and emptied his mug. “I heard a rumor today that Dieya the Sorcerer was seen recently up north a ways, and heard tales of Stembuck hunting heads in the Dry Wastes.”
Balthus grunted. He recalled what the sorcerer had said about the Krill collecting negative power. He wondered if more were happening on Ravar than just what Dieya had alluded to. He refilled Rolf’s mug. “Go on.”
“I dunno,” said Rolf into his mug. “There just seems to be more meanness in the world than there used to be. Or maybe I’m just getting old. Anyway, how about you? Ever run into anyone from the old legion?”
Balthus smiled. “I happened across that weasel Gimler.”
“Gimler!” barked Rolf. “What a bastard. I’ll never forget the look on your face when you found he not only took all your money, but your boots as well.” He banged his mug down on the table and roared with laughter. Balthus laughed along with him. “I’ll bet a year’s pay he was the one that betrayed us at Galamine,” mused Rolf.
“It was, in fact. He told me,” said Balthus. “If you wanted to see a face, you should have seen Gimler’s face when I ran across him in a wharf tavern in Arthenia. He spilled his guts, so to speak.”
“Ha, ha,” laughed Rolf. “I wish I could have seen that! What happened?”
“Well, it seemed the knife he drew on me found its way into his own belly,” Balthus said and drained his mug.
“Well done,” said Rolf. “I never did like that little rat and the world is better off without the likes of him. We lost some good men at Galamine.” He looked off into the distance, then back to Balthus. “We’ve seen a lot of hard times together, you and me, when we were out on the southern frontier. Good times and good men.” Rolf emptied the remains of the pitcher into his mug and held it up. “To absent friends.”
“Absent friends,” echoed Balthus. They drained their mugs, banged them down on the table and roared. They laughed at the other patron’s disdaining looks. Balthus gestured to the serving girl for another pitcher. She was back in moments and after filling their mugs, plunked herself down on Balthus’ lap.
“Well, handsome,” she said, twirling a lock of his hair. “I bet you get lonely on a night like this.”
Balthus smiled. “No, not usually.”
“I’m new here and I’ve always wondered what the rooms upstairs look like. Maybe you would like to show me yours later, after I get off from work,” she said, nuzzling his ear.
“No, I couldn’t do that. It’s too dangerous,” he said.
“Dangerous!” She stared at him then slapped his chest. “A big strong man like you, afraid of ‘lil ole me?”
“Not dangerous for me, dangerous for you,” he said.
“Me? Why would it be dangerous for me?” she asked, fluttering her eyelashes.
“Well, because of the knife,” said Balthus.
“What knife? – ulp,” she choked.
“This knife,” said Adrianna, holding the point of her knife under the girl’s chin. Adrianna shifted the blade, forcing the serving girl to turn and look up at her. “I believe you are in my seat.” Adrianna looked her in the eye a moment longer, then lowered the knife.
“Sorry Ma’am,” gasped the serving girl, scrambling off Balthus’ lap. She made a dash for the kitchen. Rolf’s face was bright red as he tried desperately to hold in a mouthful of ale. He lost the battle. The ale flew from his mouth, as did the gigantic guffaw that followed. He pounded the table and laughed until tears flowed from his eyes. Adrianna sat down next to Balthus and joined in the laughter. It was impossible not to, watching Rolf.
“Speaking of faces,” Rolf said, through a wheeze, “did you see hers?” They burst into a new round of laughter.
Adrianna shook her head after they had calmed down. “You can’t stay out of trouble, can you?” she said, smiling at Balthus.
“I’m not in trouble.”
“Oh, yes you are!” cried R
olf. His face got even redder, and they fell into another round of giggles.
“You two,” said Adrianna, shaking her head. “One of you better buy me dinner.” She jabbed a finger into Balthus’ chest. “And it better be you!”
“Dinner. Always a fine idea,” said Balthus. They walked to the dining room, still laughing.