The Book of Terrus: The Wise and Powerful

Chapter 5 - Dark Wings

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The Giant's Shoe was full, as always. Trosk's inn had over time become less a haven for weary travelers than a gathering place for the townsfolk at the end of the day. The oldest elders could recall a time when folk used to pass between east and west Goran more freely. Over the years the two halves of the kingdom had grown apart like two sides of a log astride a wedge. Now the spring-tide arrival of traveling merchants and caravans from further east was about as much contact with the outside world that Trosk had all year. The Giant's Shoe made enough off the locals though to keep its doors open, especially in high summer when nobody really felt like cooking through the heat.

Tonight Lhara was up in the mountains with Magda, leaving Tarun and Marden to fend for themselves for dinner. So, logically, they were to be found at the inn along with the rest of the town. Even those who chose to eat at home often found their way to the fireside later on to join in the communal good cheer. Besides, anyone who did not make an appearance to take part in the night's gossip was sure to end up featured in it instead. Far be it from Tarun or Marden to miss out, what with Lhara being otherwise occupied.

They sat around a large corner table, their plates long since cleared and their tankards comfortably full. Marden kept craning his neck, hoping to catch Yelaina's eye as she swung around on another pass of the room. Tarun rolled his eyes good-naturedly when Berin dug an elbow into Marden's side.

"Honestly, do you think of no one and nothing else these days, Marden?" the tanner's eldest twin teased.

"Course I do! You'll understand someday Berin," Marden gave the younger man next to him a playful swat. "If and when you ever grow up."

"Tell that to Da." Cassel ignored his brother's jostling. "He seems to think we're both still in our first ten-year."

Tarun couldn't resist the opportunity, especially laid out like that at his feet. "Well, Borse always was one to call them as he saw them."

"Oi, shut it Thrymmson! You're one to talk, without so much as a single courtship to your name yet!"

"Maybe he just hasn't found the right lass yet...or lad," Garrit said slyly.

Now it was Tarun's turn to elbow his cousin. "Right. As soon as I spot the one, you'll be the first to know."

"You promise? I want to be the one to negotiate for you on your wedding day. I swear I'll get you a good price, Tarun."

"If anyone will be doing the marriage bargaining, it'll be me." Marden may have been joining in on the jest, but his sideways smile at Tarun was true. "Not to impugn you, coz, but you'd offer Tarun up for a rusty nail and call it fair."

Garrit let out a cheery guffaw, nearly upsetting his drink. "And his husband would be a happy man for it! Come on, think about it; the nail would be sharp, like Tarun's brain, and rusty like his-"

"Alright, alright, we get it!" Tarun exclaimed, flushing slightly. "Honestly Garrit, you're as bad as your Ma sometimes."

"Nobody is as bad as my Rhena."

Torl's cut into the younger men's bantering, sounding amused. Tarun and Marden turned on their chairs to find their uncle standing behind them. The firelight from the Giant's Shoe's hearth highlighted strands of faded honey in Torl's graying beard and deepened the laugh lines around his eyes.

"Leave your cousin alone, Torlson," Borse, the tanner of Trosk called from behind Torl in his customary heavy bass. "You're no better when it comes to your marriage prospects."