CITY OF BRIDGES

5

The River Inn

The next day passed slowly. Leonie could wait hours to pick a pocket or scale a wall into a merchant’s warehouse, but she became quickly bored with this inaction. She measured the day in snoozes and irritating insect bites. The jolting of the cart did nothing to appease her mood. The trip soon lost any appeal and she itched everywhere.

Gradually, change occurred; hills petering out to undulating plains; the plains became a patchwork of assorted types of crops for the markets in the city. Her interest picked up when the road re-joined with the river and signs of civilisation appeared.

Leonie observed loaded barges making their way south. She was no expert, but it appeared they were having a hard time. Moving nimbly from one side to another, the bargemen were busy fending off flotsam or utilising long poles to steady their course. She heard the Urmaq was normally a placid river. Now it was a torrent of muddy water and debris.

She sat in the back of the cart, watching the river as they snacked. “I reckon the rain we’ve had is nothing like up north.”

“Agreed,” Feiron said beside her. “They say each year is getting warmer and more crops fail.”

When it was time to go, Leonie took the reins. Feiron remained in the rear to practise his shape-changing technique. As an apprentice, his final testing included his ability to assimilate into several objects or persons. First, he assumed the form of the vorien merchant, followed by a large serpent, a rock, and a wooden barrel. His final attempt was of a young girl wearing a faded yellow dress.

“I better stop before I lose concentration.” Feiron came forward to join Leonie. “Bad practice makes for bad forms.”

“Those shapes looked fine,” she said. “The girl’s hair needs a lot of attention. It’s dull, too thick and lifeless. And the barrel, is it empty or full?

“Hair causes me no end of trouble. It’s too fine a detail to assimilate.” He leaned closer to her and examined her hair. “I’m told no illios can do it, but it is a challenge I’ve set myself. As for the barrel, it’s empty. Once I refine it, I can reduce the size and give it some ‘content’ but what, I don’t know. I can achieve sounds with further practice. But I don’t think I’ll be liquid. Someone might think I’m wine and attempt to taste me,” he chuckled. “I find the concept of anyone consuming me abhorrent.”

Leonie smiled at this scenario. “What more do you need to pass?”

“At this stage, the least requirement to pass my apprenticeship is two of each shape; any race, plain objects and animals and hold them for several hours. I also have a crocodile in my repertoire. I’ll practise more tonight.”

“You can work on the hair problem too,” Leonie suggested.

“I can but try.” He didn’t sound positive.

By late afternoon, another mass of clouds rolled in from the northwest. They reached the outskirts of Indras. Feiron took over the rein, changing back into the guise of Hectr when farmhouses became more numerous. “See that bridge over there?” He pointed to the stone structure spanning the Urmaq. “Any other time, we’d go that way. Although it’s hillier, it’s a much better road and passes through more villages. There’s a turnoff to Qelay after a few days.” He continued towards the congregation of cottages and warehouses. “However, our path is worse for wear, therefore less frequented, but more direct. It should save us several days.”

“It’ll do then. The fewer travellers on the road, the better.” Leonie observed the town centre, checking if anyone seemed to take any undue interest in their arrival. There didn’t appear to be many places to stay, but they found lodgings at the farthest end of town. Leonie went to check out the area, finding the tavern had a large stable at the rear, backing right up to the riverside, along with its own small pier.

“That’s so Da can ship in goods and ales from the north.” A young boy informed her. “He reckons it’s silly to use roads when there’s the river right under our feet.”

“Thanks, son.” Feiron tossed him a silver coin. “There be another of those if you take good care of Argus.” He gave the animal a pat. “He’s worked hard for the last couple of days.”

The boy’s eyes lit up at the coin. “Yes, mister. I sure will.”

Leonie noted the number of horses in his care.

“A few of ’em are locals.” He saw her look. “Here to celebrate the end to the drought. We ‘av a group come from way up north. Nasty types, from the way they treated their mounts, though Da would cuff me for talkin’ bad about customers. Mercenaries, I reckon.”

“I see.” Leonie grabbed her backpack from the rear of the cart. “And what makes you say that?”

“Cos’ underneath their robes, some are wearin’ mail.”

“I see. Well-spotted.” Leonie nodded in approval.

“We don’t get many travellers ‘ere, neither.” The boy continued, filling Argus’s food trough with an assortment of vegetable peelings. “Normally all we get are the locals and those that don’t wanna be seen. Beggin’ your pardon, I didn’t mean you. Most travellers cross the river by the stone bridge; the road’s better. Nothing much north, except small farms and more swamp.”

“It’s alright young fellow.” Feiron tousled his hair. “We take no offence. You’re very observant.”

“Thanks, mister.”

“It’s time we sought lodgings before they take all the rooms.” The old man waved as he followed Leonie out.

The inn was a two-storey building of smooth river-rock with large timber beams above the windows and doors, supporting the upper floor. Inside to the left of the rear entrance, past the cellar door, was a stairway. On the right was the bustling kitchen, evident by the banging of pots and the mix of aromas wafting through the door. The front portion of the building contained the dining room.

The chatter subsided when they entered. As the horses in the stable indicated, guests crowded the room. Many heads turned, and eyes marked their progress to a small table by the fireplace.

A serving girl came over to see to their needs. The hubbub resumed, though subdued.

“Welcome to the River Inn. I’m afraid there’s not a great selection left tonight.” She was polite but kept glancing at Leonie’s eyes. “We’ve some salad, vegetable soup and roast mutton.”

“Anything will be better than what I’ve been eating lately,” Leonie said. “I’d like the roast thanks. As undercooked as you can.”

“I’ll have the salad, sweetie.” Feiron smiled. “And a room for the night, if available.”

“I’ll check with my Da,” she said, glancing at Leonie. “We might only have the one room left.”

“I’m sure we’ll cope,” Feiron answered.

“So then. Let me guess,” Leonie asked the young girl. “You don’t get many of my kind here?”

“I’m sorry if I was staring.” The girl blushed. “In truth, we don’t. Your eyes are lovely.”

“It’s okay. I know what it’s like to have a curious nature.”

“Thank you. Dinner may be a bit longer than usual.” She glanced at the crowd. “Would you like anything to drink?”

“Strong tea for me, and your best ale for my feline friend here,” Feiron answered.

She moved off to get their dinner ready, weaving her way across the crowded floor with practised ease.

While they waited, Leonie became aware she was the only obvious non-human in the room.

“I wouldn’t worry.” The old merchant replied to her mutterings. “As the young lass said, they don’t get many travellers here. I don’t think they’d get many of any kind here. Humans are the majority in Athglenn, in fact, all of Shak’aran. It’s in the cities you come across a greater variety of races, especially in the ports.”

The young girl brought their drinks, then disappeared back into the kitchen.

Diners at the adjoining table, local farmers from their sturdy attire stood to leave. One patron, having consumed too much ale, fell backwards, landing awkwardly by the fireplace.

Hectr and Leonie leapt to help, but Hectr was closer. He grabbed hold to help pull him to his feet. In the confusion that followed with the inebriated fellow, Hectr tripped, his hand ending up within the glowing coals scattering embers across the floor and sending sparks up the chimney. Even though it was only a few seconds, it was too late. Those who saw the incident murmured amongst themselves.

Helping the drunk farmer to his feet, she checked for injuries. Apart from any embarrassing stories soon to be recounted around the township, he was unscathed. His wife and a friend escorted him out the door to the sound of mixed laughter and sympathetic calls from the other patrons.

The portly owner of the inn appeared to soothe his guests and make sure all was well. The activity soon subsided and everyone resumed their seats. But now there were a few sidelong glances Feiron’s way.

“How’s your paw?” Leonie asked, concern in her voice.

Feiron looked at his hand. “Barely a mark,” he said as they resumed their seats. “I should be fine.” Then, in softer tones. “I’ll be able to regenerate most of the damage, but I suspect some here may have seen too much. Having a high pain threshold can sometimes be a disadvantage. Too late to howl in pain, I suspect.”

“Is that a problem? They don’t appear to be a violent lot.”

“Prejudice can affect people in different ways. I’ve seen it before,” he continued. “It can make the most pleasant of crowds an ugly beast. You’re only a bit different. You’re warm-blooded and, forgive me for saying so… resemble an overgrown pet, you’ll be fine. They may hate you, but they don’t fear you. To most of them, illios are akin to monsters. ‘Blobs’, as you put it. Something alien, who can walk amongst them in disguise without their knowing. I’ve found people fear what they don’t know or understand.”

Further conversation stopped as the proprietor arrived with his daughter, helping to deliver the food. “Kind sir, you’ve my thanks for helping earlier. I hope you’ll not come to harm by the incident.”

They thought it was an unusual way of putting it.

“I’m Hectr and my companion is Leonie. Do I note a city accent?” Feiron asked.

“Indeed, from Reenat. I’ve met illios before and know them, in a fashion.” He put out his hand. “If it’s not too painful, may I shake your hand in thanks?” He added quietly, “I’m aware of the looks you’re getting. Fine folk for the most part. I have, shall we say, a worldly reputation and they trust me. By this gesture, I hope we will avoid more harm.”

Feiron stood up, grasping the man’s hand. “Ladies and gents,” he called out. “The next round is on me.” This created much noise as most of the diners called for more ale and wine immediately.

The proprietor turned to his daughter. “Go fetch your brother from the stalls while I open another barrel.” Soon the dining room again bustled with good cheer. Except for the table with the suspected mercenaries. They glanced over often, less jovial than other patrons, but drinking more.

As she ate, she continued watching them from the corner of her eye. If there was trouble, Leonie was certain they’d be at its centre. At the behest of some diners, Hectr went to mingle, some wanted to thank him for the drinks and helping their friend.

Shattering glass silenced the room. One mercenary lurched to his feet; two of his companions held him back. He wasn’t looking at the illios. His hate-filled eyes were on Leonie.

With a few terse words in his ear by a companion, the group dragged their hot-headed colleague up the stairs, words like bitch and filth carried across the tavern. The other mercs stood up and followed. Some were steadier on their feet than others.

Oh great, they’re staying the night, Leonie thought. “Let’s hope they’re too drunk to cause any more trouble,” she muttered to Feiron.

Their leaving signalled an end to the revelry. Soon all the diners ambled out the door, and the inn had become far quieter. Peals of thunder followed flashes of lightning.

They both followed the young girl upstairs. “Here’s your room. Sorry for those men disturbing your evening. Thank Uthu they’re leaving tomorrow.” She hesitated, looking at Hectr. “We don’t get many of your kind here either.”

“You mean an illios; a shapechanger,” Feiron supplied. “You may have seen us before, but been unaware,” he shrugged. “Would you like a quick demonstration?”

“Yes, please. Very much.” She nodded.

“I should warn you,” he continued. “It can upset some people.”

“I won’t be scared.” Her voice shook.

“But it might make you ill,” Leonie muttered, stepping past.

“Don’t listen to her.” Feiron moulded his shape. First, he selected the vorien, then moved onto other forms from his repertoire, including the python and barrel.

“Show off,” Leonie muttered, looking around the room.

Her eyes were wide. “Ooh. You can change into anything you want?”

“Up to a point.” He tried to explain. “I can shrink or expand my body mass but the shape must be within a certain range of size—” Her father called for her.

“I must clean up, but thank you so much for showing me.” Her face broke into a huge grin as she backed out of the room. “My brother will be so jealous when I tell him.”

“My pleasure, lass. Could you get your brother or father to bring up a cauldron or an empty barrel for me to sleep in? I don’t rest well on the floor or in a bed.”

“I will,” she replied over her shoulder as she skipped down the hall.

He closed the door behind her.

“Are you quite finished?” Leonie yawned, surprised by her tiredness.

“Yes, thank you. I love the look on their faces when I do that. It’s fun and good experience.” Feiron slid across the floor.

Shedding most of her travelling clothes to give her tail some freedom, Leonie stretched before climbing into the big, soft bed. Feeling mellow, she realised the ale affected her more than she would have liked. “I reckon I could sleep through a thunderstorm.” She yawned again.

“That may be the case.” He moved over to the small window. Water was teeming out of the sky. It didn’t look like it would stop soon. Lightning flashed to the northeast, with the faint sound of thunder heard over the rain.

Leonie dragged herself out of bed and walked over beside him to peer out, catching sight of the flashes of light. She rolled her eyes as she turned back to the bed muttering under her breath. “More rain. That’s all I need,” she yawned before dropping off asleep.

Shortly after, there was a knock at the door. Feiron oozed over to open it. The innkeeper rolled a barrel expertly into the room and placed it in the corner by a small table.

“Ah. You’re a wonder. Thank you so much.”

“It’s a pleasure. Goodnight to you both.”

Feiron settled by a lamp with the book, amused by Leonie’s snore, sounding much like a purr.

* * *