Chosen (The Warrior Chronicles #1)(94)

But that was for tomorrow.

Tonight she wanted a hot meal, a bath, and a bed.

She jiggled her satchel. The sound of coins rang out, bringing a smile to her face.

“Thank you, Cayan, for sleeping much too soundly.”

She might’ve been a coward operating on multiple layers of fear, but she could still sneak and steal with the best of them. And now he knew.

Shanti kept her head down as she neared the Inn in the center of the town. Dusk was just starting to settle. She would’ve preferred staying closer to the outskirts, in case she had to leave in a hurry, but without options, she’d settled for keeping her head down with dirty, somewhat matted hair. With pretty bar maids and hopefully dancing girls around the common area of the Inn, she doubted anyone would grow interest in a slightly stinky stranger—she’d just have to wait to bathe before bed.

The smell of baking bread greeted her as she pushed through the rustic door, seeing the common room open up before her. It was somewhat large for the size of the town, with wiped down tables dotting the dining area. To the left sat a small stage, perfectly equipped for a juggler or performer of some kind. A small and empty dance floor was in front of that. The bar hugged the back wall, occupied by a large man making lazy circles on the countertop with a grayish rag.

She weaved in and out of the tables until she got to the back, tucking herself into a darker corner, giving her visibility of the room, but hopefully masking her somewhat from others. She left on her cloak despite the heat of the room, and kept the hood over her light hair. Her coloring would stand out in this town—she didn’t need trouble tonight. Or questions.

“Hello miss.” A busty maid with wide h*ps walked up, a cheery expression on her face.

“I’ll need a hot meal and a bed and bath for the night. Can you arrange this?” Shanti dusted the table with three silver pennies.

“Oh, O’ course Miss, yes O’ course. Wouldn’t you be needin’ the bath first, though, Miss? I can bring the meal to your room…”

Shanti almost agreed—it was a good idea to remain unseen. The problem was, she needed to know what she was potentially walking into on her continued journey. She needed to hear news of the Graygual advancement and any other important gossip, no matter how farfetched. Common rooms were excellent sources of information since men would gossip about even the most absurd things. If she left, she’d continue to be walking blind.

“No, a meal first is fine. Thank you,” Shanti answered.

“Sure thing, Miss.” The woman bobbed in a sort of curtsey, and then bounded away.

Shanti watched the woman head back toward the kitchen, stopping by the bar. The bartender, a rugged, aged man with grizzled eyebrows and graying hair looked her way. A shot of adrenaline pierced Shanti’s stomach at his prolonged stare. Assessing stare.

She shifted her gaze, trying to show lack of concern, and looked out over the tables. Two were occupied, one with three heavy-set men all wearing travel stained garb, and the other with two similarly travel stained men, the one closest with a sword peeking out of his tunic. The door swung open, emitting a grim man with a balanced walk and his hand on a bag at his side.

Out of the corner of her eye she noticed the bartender glance toward the man walking in, but his gaze didn’t linger. Instead, it swung to her again before turning to his left—the same area the bar maid had exited the room. The kitchen, probably.

A moment later, as the new man was settling down to a table one away from hers, the bartender lumbered over with a plate of food and a cup, his large stomach covered with a dirty apron. He set down her food on the edge of the table and stood back some, surveying her.

“Thank you,” she said quietly, gaze flicking up to his stomach before back down to her plate, indicating she was comfortable and he could move on.

He didn’t budge. Concern drifted away from his body, showering her. “We don’t get much women through these parts,” he began.

“I’m just passing through. I’ll keep to myself.”

He shifted, resting his weight over his right leg. The gray rag dangled down his thigh from where it was looped through his apron string at his waist. “You got some finery on you. That cloak weren’t made from no scraps. The thing is, it’s gotten a bit rough through here. It’s no place for someone without protection—‘specially a woman. I’m not telling you your business, but it might be wise to stay in your room ‘n find someone to travel with.”

“I don’t remember this area being so rough…” Shanti let the statement trail away, really hoping that was true, and also hoping for a little more information.

The bartender glanced at the man occupying the nearest table. He leaned in to her a little, lowering his tone. “Got trouble passing through this way pretty often of late. Army men, though they seem a little scruffy for any sort of organized outfit, causing trouble. Word is, they’re looking for a woman. Fair haired, violet eyed woman…”

Cold washed through Shanti as the man paused. He lowered his voice as he continued with, “Word is, she was rumored to be with some rich folk a while ago. She was a part of a big battle not that far East of here—a few guys got out. Ridin’ through here like the Devil was herding them. Spreadin’ stories. Tall tales, I reckon. A woman and man with some sort of power. I don’t know nothin’ ‘bout that. I’m an honest man—I ain’t got no time for tall tales. But people talk. Army men are askin’ around. Women wandering around by themselves get picked up. Disappear. Now, I ain’t trying to tell you your business, but whatever color your eyes, you’re a woman, and these guys ain’t no good. Best to steer clear.”