The end...? (Ranger's apprentice/ Brotherband fan-fiction)

Chapter 11

Horace was pacing through the shed. The morning of their departure had finally arrived and he was itching to get a move on. Eden hadn't allowed him to leave the shed the past two days, for fear that someone - more specifically, the innkeeper - would find out that Horace had taken refuge there. The knight wasn't too comfortable with the confinement; the walls seemed to be getting closer and closer. Unfortunately they wouldn't leave until nightfall, which seemed to be very soon on the one hand, but on the other, it felt like so far away. Horace gave up his pacing and dropped down on a straw bale, deciding to count the amount of wooden beams in the ceiling by lack of anything else to do. There were twenty.
Horace sighed and got back to his feet. With his hands in his pockets, he kicked around the loose straw on the floor. Not much later, the sound of footsteps approaching alarmed him. He quickly retreated into his hiding place between the straw bales, in case the person approaching was not Eden bringing him some breakfast. Luckily it was a false alarm. Horace stepped away from the straw bales, to find Eden with an unusual tense expression on his face.
"What's going on?" he asked immediately, knowing Eden had been looking on the bright sight of the situation for the past couple of days, despite all the draining work the innkeeper had him do; he had never seen him like this. Eden didn't reply, but he look as if he was on the verge of tears. He put the tray with Horace's breakfast on the ground and started to turn back to the door. Horace ignored the breakfast and grabbed Eden's shoulders, forcing him to face him.
"Eden, what is going on? What is wrong?" he repeated, a sense of dread coming over him. Eden took a shaky breath.
"They are... they are onto us," he managed to say, before bursting out in tears. Horace embraced his friend, trying to comfort him.
It took several minutes for Eden to calm down a little. Horace led him to a straw bale and gestured for him to sit down.
"The innkeeper... He knows something is happening," Eden started dejectedly, as the two of them sat down. "He doesn't know what it is, but that's what making it worse." He sent Horace a look of despair. "Now he's keeping Celia on lockdown, until I tell him what I'm hiding from him. How are we supposed to leave now?" Horace felt a searing anger rising up inside him. What kind of horrible person was this innkeeper?! He set his jaw and grabbed his sword, tying it around his waist.
"Leave it to me," he answered calmly, getting to his feet. Eden anxiously jumped to his feet as well.
"What are you going to do? You can't just leave like that! They might see you!" he exclaimed. Horace looked over his shoulder.
"That's my plan," he informed him. "I'm not going to let him take Celia from you like that! I know what it feels like to be separated from the people you care about. I don't care what that innkeeper thinks. I'm going to tell him what I think." With those words he turned back to the door and rushed out of the shed. He paused for a second, taking the time to breath in the fresh air, before making his way straight towards the inn, a nervous Eden trailing behind him.
He pushed open the door, a hand on his sword. The morning light fell through the door from behind him, as he stood there, using his body to block the doorway. The innkeeper, who was washing up some cups behind the bar slowly put down his cloth and stepped forward. Townspeople who had arrived for an early breakfast, who probably recognized Horace from stories the innkeeper had been telling about him, moved away from him, cowering against the walls.
"So, you think you're still welcome here?" the innkeeper asked, crossing his arms over his chest. Horace let out a cold laugh.
"I'm not here as your customer. I'm here to pick up some friends of mine." The gathered people started whispering to each other, wondering what was going to happen, as the silence stretched on between the two men. The kitchen door slowly opened, reveiling the face of the innkeeper's wife. She yelped as she saw Horace standing there and quickly ran back into the kitchen, kicking over some pans in the process, judging from the noise following her retreat.
Squinting, Horace stepped forward, triggering the innkeeper to get to action. Screaming, he ran towards Horace, taking a ladle from his apron. He tried to hit Horace on the head, not taking into account that he was facing an experienced knight. Horace evaded the hit by grabbing hold of the ladle, taking it away from the innkeeper. All the noise had attracted curious guests to come down the stairs, rubbing their eyes to wake up quicker. From the corner of his eye, Horace could see that Cassandra and Alyss were amongst these people. He threw the ladle to the ground and grabbed the innkeeper's collar, dragging him towards him. Their faces were only inches apart. A man somewhere in the back of the inn called out for Horace to leave 'that poor man' alone. He withstood the urge to roll his eyes and instead calmly stared 'that poor man' in the eyes.
"Where is she?" he grumbled, barely audible for anyone further away from him than the innkeeper. The man shook his head in fear.
"I don't know who you're..." he squeaked, but Horace interrupted him.
"You know damn well who I'm talking about!" he hissed, shaking him around to make clear that he wouldn't be able to bluff his way out of this. "Where. Is. She?!" The innkeeper stared at him, wide eyed with terror, stuttering a vague answer. Horace was able to interpret it as Celia being somewhere in the innkeeper's private chambers. He pushed the man to the ground, heading for the kitchen door. The innkeeper crawled away from him, frightened of what the knight might do. Eden was right behind Horace.
"You!" the innkeeper hissed, as soon as his gaze fell upon the boy. "After all I've done for you! How dare you betray me like this?" The guests joined in with the innkeeper, uttering some ugly phrases to him. Eden flinched, not knowing how to defend himself from it.
Horace rolled his eyes and put his hands on his hips.
"You didn't do anything for him!" he exclaimed, now clearly audible throughout the taproom. "You have blackmailed him, had him do terrible jobs and all that for having the courage to follow his heart! You should be ashamed of yourself, using someone like that! And now you've even locked one of them up, simply because you think they are hiding something from you! Well, let me tell you this: it is over! You're done with you games! They will both be coming with me, so they can start over and get a chance of building a life for themselves!" He stared the bald man in the eyes. The innkeeper, however, wasn't impressed by his words.
"And who do you think you are, coming here and threatening me under my own roof?" he asked scornfully from his position on the ground. The villagers now turned their poisonous words towards Horace. The knight glanced over to the stairwell, where he could see the angry expressions on his friends' faces. He nodded at them.
"My name is Horace Altman. Future king of Araluen," he announced for everyone in the taproom to hear. Silence fell immediately. All villagers were staring at him, painfully aware of the horrible things they had just yelled at him. The innkeeper's eyes widened, as soon as he realized he had been taunting the wrong man. Eden came to face him, an expression of shock on his face.
"You didn't tell me that... I didn't know you... How is this...?" he stuttered. Horace sent him a smile and mumbled something about explaining later. He took a look around him and saw a lot of mouths hanging open. He chuckled for a moment, then he focused on the task at hand. He made his way to the kitchen door, dragging it open. The kitchen personnel, who had been listening to the developments in the taproom from behind the door, quickly ran off into the kitchen. Horace noticed a young woman trying to hide between the door and a cupboard, hoping he wouldn't see her.
"Would you be as kind as to lead me to the innkeeper's private chambers?" he asked in a friendly voice. The woman reluctantly nodded, too afraid to say no. She hastily moved towards the other side of the kitchen, to another door. Horace sent her a grateful nod and opened the door, while she ran off back to the other side.
He arrived in a small living room, from which two doors led the way to other chambers. He opened the one on the left and looked around the bedroom that had now been revealed. No sign of Celia. He had more luck with the door on the right: this one hid a stairwell leading down.
"Wait here," he told Eden, who nodded nervously. He still wasn't used to the idea of Horace as the heir to the throne of the country of his dreams. Horace lit a torch and made his way down the stairs, frowning. What use was a basement to an innkeeper? It would've made sense if the stairs were positioned in the kitchen, as a wine cellar or storing place for beer barrels. But in his private chambers? It didn't make sense.