The Land of Eternal Winter

2

Neris had heard a great deal about the northern taverns and the type of people who frequented them. But all the hearsay in the world could not have prepared her for what she saw before her now.

Giggling women of all sizes and ages perched at the bar or lounged about at the tables, each of them armed with at least one knife in their belt, and probably more hidden elsewhere. A few had swords at their waists, and against the pelt-lined wall leaned a rack of spears waiting for their owners.

There was not a single man in sight. Not one of those taverns, then — though Neris had yet to be convinced those weren’t just salacious rumors made up by men with nothing better to do than gossip and fantasize all day long.

“Hey there, stranger,” called out one of the brown-skinned women gathered by the fireplace. She had an ugly scar slashing across her nose, and she kept her icy blue hair short and neat. “Care for a drink?”

A couple of her companions turned and eyed Neris as well, some of them clearly sizing her up, the rest already too drunk to care.

Neris stepped forward as she patted off the already melting remnants of snow on her shoulder. Then she drew back the hood of her cloak, shaking free her mane of long red hair.

“I’m here on business,” she said in Catayan, the traders’ tongue, raising her voice just enough to be heard over the noise. “Where may I find Captain Julaire of the Eighth Wing?”

The woman raised an eyebrow, shifting ever so slightly in her seat so that her hands rested visibly at her waist. “You’re talkin’ to her. Whaddaya want?”

“I’m looking for a man.”

Her companions stared, then burst into howls of laughter. Julaire shook her head, but smiled.

“If it’s a bedmate you’re lookin’ for, I’d recommend ya look elsewhere,” she drawled.

Neris looked calmly back at her. “I’m looking for the One-Eyed Crow.”

That silenced them.

Julaire’s fingers tightened around the hilt of the knife in her belt. “What, you his friend or something?”

“And if I am?”

“The Crow’s killed three of my girls just in the last year.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.”

“Sorry ain’t gonna bring them back.”

“Neither will threatening someone who was not involved in their deaths.”

They eyed each other for some time, neither speaking, neither moving. The noise from the rest of the tavern swirled around them, a cacophany of voices and clattering mugs.

At last, Julaire stood. “Let’s take this outside, why don’t we?”

“Captain,” protested one of the other women, but Julaire shook her head and pushed her way to the door, steadier on her feet than Neris had expected.

“Well? Ya coming?”

“Very well,” said Neris, pulling her hood back up, and followed the other woman back into the snowy dusk.

* * *

The skies darkened swiftly as they walked past the outhouse, past the stables, and into the forest beyond. Julaire was a short woman, but her stride was brisk, and Neris struggled to keep up. Behind them, the moon glowed, a distant pale sliver.

Before long, they reached the banks of a small, frozen creek.

There Julaire came to a stop.

Neris stopped as well, keeping her distance. “Where is the One-Eyed Crow?”