The Night Runners: First Year

Chapter 5

Despite her excitement about the hope of future comfort, Emalynn took careful note of the main street down which they made their way. A wide cobblestone street, the road bisected the village from the inland gate down to the harbor. Through the slanting sheets of rain, Emalynn caught a glimpse of lights edging down a great hill to a vast expanse of inky blackness – the great bay of water. Judging by the swirl of faint pale dots of yellow and white which bobbed up and down, the ships had all been moored, if not emptied. Do fishermen attempt going out in this rain? Emalynn wondered.

About halfway down the hill, Colin gently tugged on his left rein and guided the mare across the now rather fairly empty thoroughfare into another wide lane. It was slow going since Colin had to keep peering out from under his hood to glance at the various inn and pub signs hanging and swaying in the tempestuous wind which seemed to carry cold to every corner of the desolate town. Eventually, Colin turned Gertha into a wide gated area: an inn's stable yard.

Two men in oilskin cloaks appeared at Colin's elbow bawling something about a rainstorm and taking the horse and unsaddling her themselves and getting into the inn as quick as may be. After a short conversation about where the cart would be put – under the stable's far overhang, it turned out – Colin acquiesced and, pulling Emalynn and his bags from the cart, whisked the two of them indoors.

No sooner had she stepped over the double door's flagstones, then Emalynn sighed with relief. Shaking off her cloak, the young girl hung it carefully from a free hook by the door, letting the now rather heavy canvas fabric drip dry. Colin, following suit, stretched.

"Here we are at the inn at last. The Sailor's Hearth! Goodness, I'm soaked through," he said. "We'd best get by a fire."

"Do they have baths?" Emalynn asked. "Bathing first, then sitting by a fireplace."

"I'll have a talk with the mistress of the inn," Colin nodded. "You sit here by the fire and wait. What would I say to your mother and dormitory housekeeper if you caught cold while on a mission?"

After nabbing Emalynn a hot mug of tea from a passing maid who involuntarily smiled at Colin's scruffy open smile, Colin disappeared in the direction of the front desk. Emalynn, sipping on the tea, enjoyed the herbal blend of chamomile while, she supposed, Colin finalized their reservations and arranged for a bath. Do they have baths here? Emalynn wondered. Do they have internal plumbing? I hope so – but Father says not all provinces have such conveniences, so I'd best prepare myself. Well, even if the baths aren't connected with internal plumbing, I'm sure Colin will get baths for us. He's that kind of man.

"He's that kind of man." That was what Emalynn had begun to think of her mentor on the way to Tawyrs. Flirting with young women, joking and carousing with young men, gossiping glibly with elderly women (and making their aged hearts flutter no doubt), and discussing politics solemnly with old men, Colin seemed to fit in with every group of people he met. Fishermen, farmers (and their wives and daughters), traveling merchants, minstrels, Clerics, tradesmen, unskilled and skilled labourers all seemed drawn to the charismatic assassin. Chameleon skills, a kind of social ability, Emalynn knew were important for an assassin. Yet, with Colin, there was a level of frivolity and appearance of carelessness which the young apprentice found alarming. Although there are benefits to his ability, Emalynn worried, does he have the necessary foundation of level-headedness and seriousness necessary for a mission such as this?

"Everything's in order." Colin's voice suddenly broke into Emalynn's thoughts.

In surprise, the girl jerked a little and nearly dropped her mug. Taking the black cup of chamomile out of her hand gently, Colin shook his head.