Oath of Steel

19 |Drinking Hangman|

She'd been right, Grey had found a lead. Someone who could actually drag them out from the skein of darkness and shades they'd fallen pry off.

He hadn't told her how, and he seemed keen on taking another secret with him to the grave.

She took a peak at the name painted on the panel over the entrance to the cavern, her eyes making out the words: The Wandering Cloud.

Chaos was the only thing that Rosalynde could make out after entering the tavern. The stench first smelled inside coming from the piles of dirt, of broken shoes and puddles of what looked like vomit in the corners of the room. She raised the hem of her jacket sleeve over her nose in a miserable attempt to block the smell which was slowly starting to penetrate the inside her clothes. Swiftly cutting through the fabric with that putrid smell of beer mixed with piss.

They quickly took a seat on the opposite side of the room. Rosalynde's back facing the door and Grey's eyes peering at the door with unprecedented tranquility, recording every person that appeared at the door.

Nothing seemed to escape from his vigilant gaze, no ounce of emotion, not even a gentle reassuring smile.

It was like he'd morphed completely into something her mind couldn't place a solid idea on, a whole different man now sat in front of her.

"So, what's our move?" He didn't reply immediately, his eyes breaking contact with the door to fix on her inquisitive pale ones.

"Now, we drink." Her only reaction was a blink at him, soon followed by an unamused smile gracing her lips.

Her eyes filled themselves with a silver of perplexity, as if trying to solve an unsolvable enigma which'd been placed in front of her.

"Excuse me?" She seethed under her breath, lowering her tones to make sure their neighbors sitting close would not hear her words laced with threats.

"Loosen up a little, Steel. It's not like I'm going to bite you anytime soon." He got up from his seat and went to the counter, pointing towards their table, chatting with the bartender as Rosalynde squared him from top to bottom.

His ruffled dark hair glimmered at the light of the candles burning over his head, while the darker shades that the lamp projected over his body made him look as if he'd come out of a painting mere fortnight ago. The clothes he'd chosen for himself were perhaps simpler than her own, but that still hadn't been enough to hide himself completely.

She could still see parts of his ripe body under the fabric.

And she knew with just one glance, that she hadn't been the only one to notice that small detail he hadn't been able to hide well. An elevated number of young women had slowly begun circling him at the bar, some even getting as far as touching him on both shoulders, offering him what looked like a massage.

But Grey didn't even look their way as the bartender took out from under the counter three bottles full of wine, making them slide towards Grey's end, everything with a half-loose smile hanging on his face.

"Here." He said after sitting down, opening the first bottle as he took both glasses from a nearby waiter, filling both 0f them to the brink as Rosalynde didn't utter a single word at that action.

"Why?" Grey replied to that question with a knowing smile, pushing a glass towards her.

"My informant told me something interesting will happen after midnight. We're looking for two men, both with a tattoo on their wrists," Rosalynde didn't need to ask what the tattoo was.

A windflower no doubt.

"And what do you suggest we do in the meantime? Drink to our heart's content?" She mocked him with pleasure dripping from her tone.