Wren (The Romany Epistles) Read Free

under his nose, I met
his gaze evenly. “I only want what is rightfully mine. My twenty gold flans, if
you please, or I shall speak to the enforcer.”
    As the blood washed from his face, I almost regretted using
the threat. The local enforcer, the king’s representative in the area,
possessed an exceptionally nasty reputation.
    “Why didn’t you say that you knew the enforcer?” His hands
fumbled in his pockets. He plunked down a small pile of gold and hurried out
the back door without paying for his meal or asking where the criminal waited.
    I picked the flans up with a sigh. They made a comforting
weight as I counted out the full twenty into the small bag at my waist.
    After retrieving my knife from the tabletop, I surveyed the
room. At least four men returned my scrutiny with varying degrees of wariness.
I doubted I would be able to find a decent meal in the kitchens and the company
lacked discretion.
    A tavern wench in a low cut bodice that sagged dangerously
wove through the tables to my side.
    “Can I get you anything, miss?” She simpered, holding the
greasy tray before her like a shield.
    “No, thank you. I have some unfinished business to attend
to.” As I met the girl’s fearful eyes, I couldn’t help the twinge of pity. If
Deus hadn’t provided me with the talents to earn my living another way, I might
well be in this woman’s place. I dropped a silver coin onto her tray. “Take
this for the steward’s meal and keep the remainder for yourself.” Then, before
she could thank me, I strode toward the door and out into the noon sunlight.
    Brone greeted me with a whinny. I untied him and then
paused.
    Filling my lungs with a deep breath, I closed my eyes and
lifted my face to the sun. The light made my head throb, but the clean scent of
fresh air more than made up for the pain. That and the lightened feeling I
always experienced after finishing a bounty brought me to the decision.
    I had delivered my last bounty. Never again would I enter a
slum like the one behind me looking for a man to hunt for profit. I possessed
other skills, and I would use them. The land would wait until I earned the rest
other ways.
    Straightening my shoulders, I opened my eyes and set off in
the direction of the edge of town. Surely someone would be seeking a falconer,
a hunter, or even a stable hand, anything to keep my hands busy and guarantee
me a place by a fire and a meal in my belly for the winter.
    I traveled to the next valley, two days away, before finding
a decent-looking inn and a meal. After settling Brone down in the stable with
the promised carrot, I procured myself a bed for the night and sought out the
common room.
    Heavy beams spanned the ceiling. Tables and chairs jostled
for floor space. The worn edges and scarred table tops offered a welcome,
well-worn atmosphere. The only occupant, a stooped old man, tended the fire. I
guessed he had aged beyond his usefulness in the fields judging by his silver
hair and toothless grin.
    “How are you, old father?”
    His grin widened. “Fair enough, my lass. Are you a looking
for someone?”
    I shook my head. “Simply a meal, father. I have journeyed
far and I hoped to find something to fill my belly before I go seeking work.”
    The wizened blue eyes scanned my attire: tunic, leather
jerkin, and worn leather leggings. “And what kind of work are ya seeking,
child? You don’t appear to be the serving wench type. I don’t know of what
other work a lass like yourself might find.”
    I smiled and slid onto a nearby bench. “I hunt well, know
how to care for falcons or other birds of prey, and am not afraid of mucking a
stall or caring for a horse.”
    The old man’s eyebrows rose. “Surely ya don’t mean man’s
work.”
    “Aye, I do, father. You wouldn’t know of a lord or noble who
might be interested in hiring an experienced hunter or stable hand, would you?”
    He studied me. “Nay, there t'isn’t anything the likes of
that about except the enforcer’s