Book Two Chapter 1: The New Rhythm

Book Two — Chapter 1

The New Rhythm

Roen was already down when last night’s rain stopped. It wasn’t pouring, the typical for that time of year, slightly chilly rain, just enough to make the morning air feel heavy, the garden smelling of wet leaves and frost mint by the morning, and to bring the fact that summer was firmly on its way out.

He had to wear a vest for the first time in months as the chill had managed to penetrate the walls of the inn. He lit the hearth, started the bread, and stood for a while at the back door with a cup of tea, looking out at the herbs gone dark with rain, the wind was swaying the blades of the grass, and he had to admit, he enjoyed the calmness that this time of year brought.

The inn’s shape wasn’t quite the same as before the fight. Brenner came in soon after and took the kettle off the hook, pouring himself a cup without needing to ask.

“Morning, Roen,” he muttered in the slightly raspy voice that a person who just woke up usually carried.

“Morning,” Roen answered.

That was the routine that had worked it self out. Brenner sat at the bar with the cup and the schedule of the week’s wagons in front of him. He had asked for a job soon after the fight with the Hollows, and unsurprisingly, he had proven to be rather competent in organisation and trade. The Baron’s trust had not been misplaced.

Kael, who had been permanently reassigned to the Millhaven branch of the guild, by using funding Garren had secured after the incident, came down half an hour later.

“Bread?” he asked instead of a greeting.

“Resting…” Roen answered.

Kael nodded, poured himself a cup of tea and took it with him as he went out into the square to do the morning round. Garren had asked him to start it after he had recovered enough with the clear instructions:

“Walk the perimeter, look at the south road, note anything that wasn’t there yesterday.”

He came back twenty minutes later with his cup empty, confirming the new normal:

Nothing was on the road that should not have been there.

Then he sat at the bar, rubbed his leg for a few seconds, as it still bore the scars and pains of his fight, and drank a second cup of tea while Brenner moved his papers to make room. The morning went on.

Sera came down at seven.

Her ribs still slowed her down slightly, and she was careful about how she lifted things, but the cold the Hollow had put in her had been driven out by enough hot tea, rest and stew. The rest, she found most unbearable. She sat at her table in the corner, and Roen brought the tea he had poured before she had asked for it.

“You slept well?… All the way through?”

“Most of the night.”

He watched her as she took her first sip, as if to see if she approved of the tea. He had stopped pretending he wasn’t doing it.

“There’s a wagon south at the bend,” she said. “I saw it from the window.”

“Brenner has it.”

“Already?”

“He’s been up since five.”

“He’s always been up since five.”

She put the cup on the wood. “Hm.”

“What?”

“Nothing. It’s just nice, having someone else who’s awake before the inn picks up.”

He thought about that without answering. He pulled the second batch of bread from the oven and set it on the rack. The smell filled the room as it always did. He had started making two batches as the first one ran out a bit too fast each morning.

Bess came in at he typical time, nodded at the room rather than at anyone in particular and went directly into the kitchen, and started the day’s first batch of stew. Onions first, then the carrots, then the wooden spoon against the side of the pot. It had been the rhythm of the kitchen for so long now that Roen could have done his work blindfolded and never bumped her.

She was humming today. That was something to note. up until recently she had pressed her palm to the wall every time she came in, checking if its still there. Now she hummed as if nothing had happened a few short weeks ago.

Roen brought a few slices of bread with butter and honey to Sera and went back into the kitchen for the second pot of tea.

Soon after Milo strolled down the stairs with Nyx on his shoulder and the book he had been reading to Brick the night before tucked under his arm. He looked at the room, said morning to everyone, grabbed a slice of buttered bread from Sera’s plate, and went out to the back to feed the goat before anyone had a chance to remind him.

He had grown an inch since that morning, as if the particular something that was holding him down had lifted since then and released all growth at once.

Brick, in the back, made the grunting sound he made when food was late.

“I’m coming…” Milo responded.

• • •

The next wagon came in before noon.

The driver was a man Roen didn’t know, with a beard going grey, a straw hat in his hands and the dust of three days’ road on his coat. He stood in the doorway and looked at the room before he came any further.

“They told me at the bend there’s a thing south of here. A burn or a glass or something. Is there?”

Brenner stood up from his stool.

“There is.”

“Can a wagon take the road past it?”

“It can.”

“It’s safe?”

“The road is fine. Keep your horses to the west side when you pass, as they don’t like the look of it, that side has trees along the edge to block it out.

The driver nodded once. He looked at Roen behind the bar and at Sera with her ledger. And asked:

“Could I buy water and a quarter of bread?”

“Of course,” Roen said.

The man took the provisions and went out, followed by Brenner, who was still explaining the safety of the road to him. The road took him past the glass, succesfully. He did not feel the need to come back.

“Third one this week,” Brenner said, sitting back at the bar.

“Yes.” Roen answered.

“They aren’t skipping the road south anymore. Scared – yes, but the traffic is back”

“Word is moving. Soon, people will forget about it all.”

“Hopefully.” Sera said, while doing her numbers.

• • •

The courier came at noon.

He was a thin man on a thin horse, both of them tired, both of them dusty enough to suggest a hard week of road. He dismounted his horse, tied the poor thing to a post near the entrance and came in without ceremony.

“I’m looking for a man named ah…Brenner. The Guild sent me to this inn, after a shop owner sent me there.”

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Brenner turned without standing.

“That’s me.”

“Letter from the Harwick estate, for you.”

He held out a folded packet of papers. They carried the Harwick family crest, not the office one.

Brenner took it but didn’t open it at the bar. He went out to the back step, sat down with the packet across his knees, and read it letter by letter in the noon light.

The courier accepted a cup of tea and the offer of stew without comment. He paid for a room and went out to see to his horse and move it to the stable.

Brenner came back inside an hour later.

He sat down at the bar with the papers folded in his pocket. His face had lost some of its colour, and his expression was that of a man who had been delivered news he had half-expected and still found heavier than he had planned for. Roen saw the look and put an ale in front of him without fuss. Brenner took it and drank half before he spoke.

“The Baron’s dead.”

Sera set her cup down. Kael, who had been pretending to read a guild bulletin at the other end of the bar, stopped pretending.

Roen did not move.

“How?” Sera asked.

“Heart. Soon after, he went back home. He’d been failing for a year before he hired me. The estate’s been broken up, and the creditors are halfway through the assets. My retainer’s permanently closed. There’s nothing left of the office I worked for, and nothing left of the case I was carrying papers for. It’s done. I’m done.”

He drank the rest of the ale.

“Officially released. They sent me my pay for last quarter. There’s no more work coming.”

“Brenner. I’m sor-”

“Don’t, we weren’t friends, he just trusted me for the work I did – I respected him for giving it to me, but what put him in the ground wasn’t anything anyone here did to him.”

He hadn’t looked at Roen while he was delivering the news; had he done so…his conclusion might have been slightly different.