I kept close to Grigore as we approached Rothberg's outer wall and gaping gateway. The guards outside hung about, drinking warm mead and gambling in the dry crevice of their gatehouse. They had eyed us but opened the door without a word and let it swing shut loudly behind us. We wandered through the curving streets and I tugged the hood harder over my head. The hail was coming down heavily now and the small balls of ice pinched my skin painfully.
Beyond the great cobbled stone wall and the thick wooden gates lay hundreds of small houses littered on uneven earth, held up by platforms and craggy wooden pillars to keep them above the winter snow. The wood they were built from appeared thick with tiny windows and shutters and black shingle covered over the roofs.
One thing I noticed instantly was that smoke filled the air. It billowed out from several great buildings at the opposite end of the city where several massive mines littered the mountain face. Fires melted the iron ore and purified it and men worked smithies day and night, sending plumes of back clouds into the sky. It made me choke a little. The smoke was think and heavy and clung to the city, weaving through the wonky ill-built streets. Nobody else she saw seemed to notice or care though. Clad in furs and thick leather, the tough skinned and distrusting eyed people simply carried on about their business, breathing in the black air without a second thought.
I breathed a sigh of relief when Grigore stopped and looked up at a long single story building. Loud voices boomed from within and warmth wafted out the door as men came and went. I shifted my weight and glanced up at Grigore. He was scowling at the building, assessing if it was a safe place for us to enter.
"It seems fine." I said as I rubbed my hands together furiously, not telling him that I didn't care where we stayed just as long as it was warm.
Grigore's dark eyes slipped to my face, observing how red my nose was and how pale my cheeks were. With a grunt, he shifted the weight of Ursus at his hip before he marched up the creaking steps. He pushed the door open and dragged me inside, keeping me close.
Unlike most places, this inn remained rowdy at his entrance. The usual untrusting hush didn't befall these ragged bearded men at the sight Grigore, an obvious Weaver. They continued to drink and sing and talk loudly, bellowing to each other from across the room. I was a little surprised and if Grigore was he didn't show it. Instead he ushered me over to the barkeep, a large woman with a thick plait trailing down her back and with a face as rough as the men.
"A room?" She guessed with a wide smile which grew wider when she saw me hovering behind him. "Who's this frail thing? I've never seen a woman with so little fat or muscle on them. Why, you mustn't eat much at all." She said loudly, ignoring Grigore's answer.
I looked down at myself, noting that, while I was still on the small side, I had definitely put weight on, but I gradually noticed how tiny I was in comparison to the people of Rothberg with their heights that challenged even Lillith and rough muscle-set bodies, making me almost childlike. I glanced nervously at Grigore, wondering if I appeared even faintly like a woman to him, then quickly looked away, scolding myself for worrying about such a silly thing when he gave me a questioning look.
The woman clapped her large hands, bellowing loudly. "Hill! We need some food out here! This girly's going to starve otherwise!" An unintelligible growl come from the door behind her but a clatter followed as the man did as he was told. "You sit and wait for some food. I'll get you fed proper in no time." She said to me with a big grin.
"We need rooms, barkeep, not food." Grigore said stiffly, irked that he had been ignored for so long.
"It's food that you need. You'll have your room but sit and eat first." She said firmly and pointed to a corner of the room. "Go over there. It's quieter than most places."
I doubted it. Men shouted so loudly in here that it rattled the walls and windows, there wouldn't be anywhere to sit in peace, but I wandered over to the seat the barkeep pointed out, dragging Grigore after me for once. I sat in the far corner so I could watch the strange miners while Grigore sat beside me moodily and held Ursus in his hands tightly.
I had never seen such happy folk; singing, debating, arm-wrestling and sharing stories amongst themselves. Most were covered in mud or soot, spreading it over chairs and the floor. The barkeep didn't seem to care though. She just dished out food and beer happily with her two young barmaids flitting from table to table. It cheered me to watch them but Grigore continued to be glum.
"She didn't mean any harm, Grigore." I said gently.
I thought my voice had been drowned out by the din but Grigore heard me clearly and grunted irritably. I smiled at him. It was like him to brood but I found it oddly funny this evening, endearing almost.
It wasn't long until the barkeep was stomping towards us with two large plates pilled with food.
"Here we go. Hill's best." She announced happily as she shoved the plates under our noses. "You'll eat your fill and then you can go sleep." A key was pushed towards Grigore. "Third door on the left of the east wing."
"How much do we owe you for this?" He asked stiffly as he pocked the key.
The barkeep barked a laugh. "Nothing. This is on the house. Your woman needs it." She said merrily, making me flush nervously.
Grigore simply shrugged and he grumbled his thanks and began to eat, closing himself off from the noise.
Milcent's gaze settled on me warmly. "What's your name, girly?"
"Lyra." I replied a little loudly so she could hear.
"And your man?"
I felt Grigore's attention flick to me curiously. "Grigore, but he's not mine. We're just travelling companions." I stammered, feeling an odd mix of pleasure and embarrassment that she thought he was.
She shrugged with indifference. "Milcent." She said with a friendly smile. "Enjoy your stay here, you two, however long that may be." With that said, she wandered off back to her station, leaving us in peace.
I glanced briefly at Grigore when I felt something shift in him, almost like irritation, but found him still focused on his meal, his eyes not looking at me at all. Deciding to leave him in peace, I looked down at the plate, a little overwhelmed by what I had been given. It was filled with carrots, corn, beans, potatoes and all kinds of meat. I knew I couldn't eat all of it but I was determined to give it my best.
I ate quietly, watching the inn ebb and flow as people came and went. I even began to pick out the women among the men. They were just as broad and muscular as any man with thick hair and booming voices. Their faces too were covered in grime and soot and the only difference was that they didn't have a hefty beard but a scarf covering their chin and jaw. I gradually understood why Milcent was determined to feed me up as every person I looked at oozed with strength.
I ate until my stomach felt it was going to explode and tried to burp quietly as stomach stirred. I was beaten easily by the mountain Milcent had given us but Grigore wasn't so easy. He kept on eating, devouring what he had been given silently with his eyes still holding some irritation as he watched nothing. I wasn't quite so sure Milcent was the cause anymore, being ignored didn't bother him that much usually, and he seemed to be growing worse, not better. I put it down to the noise. Grigore was used to the outdoors, quiet and cold, not the rowdiness of a full bar.
He eventually finished and glanced at me, quietly asking if I was ready to leave. While I wanted to watch the people some more, fascinated by them and their noise, I nodded, and slowly followed him as he stood. Moving was hard and my stomach cried when I did.
Just as we were going to seek out the room we would be staying in, the doors swung upon. Almost instantly the room went quiet and the sound of the storm outside could be heard. It startled me and instantly stepped closer to Grigore, clutching at my pack where Hild was buried. At the door were men in chainmail and furs, much like the guards at the entrance of the city. They had as much facial hair as any man I had seen but something about them seemed colder than the miners. Firmer.
The guard glanced about the room before his eyes settled on Grigore. He grew tense and shifted his weight, planting himself before me protectively and gearing for a fight, as the guard stepped firmly forward.
"Weaver." The guard shouted. "You must see our Lord Master."
Milcent glowered and cluttered forward. "He's got a woman with him, Edd. Let him be. He doesn't need to get involved."
"You know the Lord demanded any Weaver that passes through was to be sent to him, Milcent." The guard known as Edd said sharply. "Whether he has a companion or not is of no concern."
"She could get hurt though." Milcent said, giving me a look of worry. "She's so frail she'd be quite easy to break."
"Is that why you didn't report him?"
Milcent puffed out her large chest and folded her thick arms. "So what if it was? They're just passing through and how was I to know he was a Weaver."
"The man is covered in scars and carries a sword bearing the charms of the Weavers. He blatantly is." Edd snapped then turned his sharp cold gaze on Grigore. "Come with me or you have no shelter or welcoming here."
Grigore was silent but I felt his muscles tighten and loosen with annoyance. I didn't need to see his eyes to know they were pitch black, not wanting to respond to such an arrogant call but aware he had little choice. I gently brushed my fingers against his back, trying to soothe him. I felt the muscles taut in his back relax a little.
"Fine." He growled and turned to me. "Stay here. Get some sleep."
I shook my head instantly. "I'll come with you. I want to know what this Lord wants with you." I said and pressed my lips together.
My response irritated him more but he didn't argue. I took that as an okay.
I gathered up my cloak, pulling it over my shoulders and tugging it over my head as Grigore prepared to leave. I saw Milcent wringing her hands and her face torn with worry as she watched me. I smiled, hoping to give her some comfort and instantly becoming fond of the large woman for trying to take care of me.
Grigore took my hand and gave me a warm look. A look that said I was safe with him, nothing was going to harm me.
I sucked in the warm air and let him guide me out of the wonderfully comfortable inn and back out into the storm. The wind howled and hail pelted down like small bullets from the churning sky above. I flinched and huddled closer to Grigore for protection from the elements which he gave willingly, circling his arm around my shoulder and giving me some of his own cloak, before Edd shouted at us to keep up.
Grigore and I followed closely, plodding through the winding streets and freezing storm, wondering warily what this Lord Master wanted with us.