Page 7 of To Hunt a Ruby Remedy

“Going to try to get us all drunk again tonight, is he?” I heard one man murmur to his friend. “You’d think he’d have learned his lesson last night.”

I wandered over to the dice game. “Are you ready for another round?”

Before the stranger could answer, one of the locals shook his head. “This is my last. Gotta get home soon.”

The other villagers nodded their heads in agreement, and the huntsman scowled. When that dice game ended, he moved on to another table. Once more, the locals took that as a signal to finish their drinks and leave.

I wandered over to the counter where Mistress Weslet poured ale. She watched the men make their way out of the common room with a small smile. I had expected her to be upset at the loss of custom, but clearly something had happened the night before to make everyone wary of the stranger.

He didn’t join the final game still going, shifting to a table by himself. He took a sip of ale and slammed his mug on the table. I pasted on my politest smile and went to check if he needed another drink.

“Can I get you anything else?”

“Just another ale.” His eyes traveled up my body, but I didn’t think he was actually seeing me. Habit, rather than active interest. When he finally made it to my face, his brow furrowed. His hand snapped out and grabbed my wrist. “You weren’t here yesterday.”

I had learned after years of working in the tavern back home that sometimes the best way to get free of unwanted attention was to ignore it. This huntsman seemed like the type who would make more of a fuss if I wrenched my arm free. If I didn’t protest, he might release me on his own after I answered his question. And if he didn’t, well, then breaking free was still an option.

“I wasn’t.”

He tugged my arm, but he wasn’t trying to pull me closer. “Sit. Take a break with me for a few minutes. What’s your name? I’m Gideon.”

He released my wrist.

I didn’t sit, his sudden change in demeanor somehow more worrying than his initial grasp on my arm. “I’m really quite busy.”

Gideon reached into his belt pouch and pulled out a half silver. He set it on the table and slid it my direction. “Tell me about the dragon.”

I blinked. I looked from the coin to Gideon and tried to make sense of his words. “The dragon?”

He pushed the coin a little closer to me. “The dragon. I know it is living in the forest. What I need to know are its habits. The location of its lair.”

The bit of metal called to me. That single coin could help so much. But I knew nothing about a dragon apart from what I had seen that day. Even if I did, I wouldn’t want to share information with the hunter. The thought of anyone killing such a majestic creature appalled me.

I looked away from the silver and shook my head. “I don’t think any dragons are living in the forest. The trees would make it difficult for them. We’re close enough to the mountains that they might fly overhead once in a while, I suppose.”

The dragon-hunter snatched back his coin. “I know you are all lying to me, and I’m going to prove it.”

I took a step back. “I’ll go get you that ale.”

Mistress Weslet had a mug waiting for me when I reached the counter, but she kept a grip on the handle. “Was he bothering you? I can have Alfred serve him the rest of the evening. You are supposed to be resting, anyway.”

“Not necessary,” I said with a genuine smile. Working for the Weslets made keeping my cheerful expression all night easy. “I don’t need to rest. And Gideon wasn’t bothering me that way. He wanted to know about a dragon in the forest.”

The innkeeper slid the mug toward me, but slowly. “And what did you tell him?”

“That the forest seemed like an odd place for a dragon to make its home, but they might fly overhead since we are so close to the mountains.”

She relaxed, her movements once more brisk and efficient. “A good answer. If he says anything more about dragons, let me know, will you?”

“Of course.”

I brought the mug of ale to Gideon, then checked on the few remaining patrons. Most of them were heading home, the hunter’s presence contributing to their short night out. A woman clapped the final man still seated on the shoulder as she stood up. Her voice was low, and I just made out the words. “You going to drink him under the table again tonight?”

The man smirked. “Gotta make sure Hilde earns something, since the blighter chased off all her regulars.”

“As if she didn’t tell everyone that she wouldn’t serve more than two pints to anyone who can’t hold their drink while he’s here.”

I finished clearing the table that had recently emptied and carried the dishes back to the kitchen. Did this still have to do with the dragon? Why would the entire village care about keeping a dragon secret? I tried to imagine what the secret could even be. That the dragon lived in the forest, I supposed, but that made little sense. As I had told Gideon, the trees did not make for an inviting home for a creature so large. Especially not one with wings.

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