Page 9 of The Shadow of Polaris

The cold had already set in; I could feel it down to my bones. Exhaustion from my trek across the Flatlands and the cruel reminder from my stomach made me desperate. The logical side of my brain told me to stay away from city folk or local inns; however, the animal side told me I needed to take the risk. I would die out there. Then, this grand escape would’ve been for nothing. I’d practically be doing the city guards’ job for them.

Warm light of a hearth radiated from weathered glass windows of a tavern across the street. Further investigation proved the bar to be fairly empty and quiet. With its old, rickety wooden door and dusty window panes, the city guards steered clear of this type of place. I guess this’d have to do.

Securing my hood below my eyes, I pulled on the heavy front door, and we stepped inside. Gods, please keep me from being recognized. Shaking the snow from her pelt, Arcturas scampered to the hearth and curled by the warmth.

“Hey! No animals allowed in my establishment.” With her bloodshot protruding eyes, the barkeep glared at me and pointed a long skeletal finger towards the wolf pup.

“I’m sorry,” I said, pulling my arms from the cloak and draping it over my arm, “we just need to warm up, then we’ll be on our way.”

The tavern was empty, aside from a fat, red-faced man who teetered on his barstool. Sipping from his pint, he glanced at me and belched loudly. Ale dripped from his mouth as he grinned. I grimaced and he returned to his pint. At least I didn’t have to worry about him recognizing me.

The barkeep was an ancient-looking woman with deep wrinkles creasing her forehead. Her brows arched permanently and a long nose curved over her small, thin mouth.

“That thing better not cause any trouble.” She scowled and continued polishing a glass chalice. The final bit of cold leaving my skin, I pulled a rickety stool next to the now sleeping Arcturas, and settled into the warmth. The barkeep tucked her polishing rag into her flour stained apron and poured a chalice of spiced wine. Motioning for the drunk to finish his drink and leave, she limped over to the hearth.

“I can’t pay for that.” My gaze lowered to the floor. I let the loose strands of hair fall in front of my eyes, attempting to conceal my identity. The barkeep’s eyes softened slightly.

“On the house,” she croaked, pushing the wine into my hands.

Grasping for the chalice, I drank deeply. The nutty spice burned my throat.

“Thank you,” I choked out between gulps.

“So…What’s your story, girl? You got a name?” Her voice was as withered as the skin of her cheeks. I sank lower into my chair, hiding my face in the flickering shadows.

“It’s Elpi- erm Ell, ma’am. I was hunting out in the woods and got caught up in a storm. I found her alone. Something had attacked her mother and littermates. She was the only survivor. I couldn’t just leave her stranded,” I said, pointing to Arcturas, who was now sprawled across the warm floor. The barkeep eyed us, silently scanning me from the too-big boots on my feet to the matted black hair of my bun and bruises forming.

“Alright…Ell…, where’s your hunting gear then?”

“What?” Stuttering, I looked around the tavern, now empty. I hadn’t noticed the drunk leave. Rickety wooden tables with broken, mismatched chairs tucked beneath them scattered about the room. A single candle flickered on each tabletop, casting shadows across the faded, cracked walls. At the archway leading into the back kitchen, a small, gangly rat chewed on a slice of stale bread, its cheeks puffed with crumbs.

“Well, if you were hunting like you say, where’s your weapon? I don’t know many hunters who’d go out in this weather unarmed and in merely a shift with boots three times too big.” The barkeep raised a brow and tucked her withered hands into her apron pockets.

“Oh, um, I was rushing to get back to the city and I must have left it in the forest accidentally. And this is all I can afford, if you must know.” My gaze lowered to the deep red liquid swirling in my chalice. I prayed to the Gods she didn’t see right through me.

“I see.” She scratched her long, jagged chin. “Well, finish your drink and get going. I’m closing up early to prepare for the storm and I ‘spose you best be getting home to your family.”

I nodded, gulping down the rest of the wine. Dreading the freezing cold awaiting me outside, I shivered and stood. At least I’d had a short bit of reprieve.

“Thank you for your hospitality,” I said, trying my best to smile at the ancient woman. Something like pity flashed across her eyes as she inspected my ratty, grey clothes. Large, bloody gashes from the flatland creature’s attack ran up my calves and a purple bruise had surfaced on my left cheek.

“Judging by those frail little arms of yours, you’re probably hungry,” she said, eyeing my wounds. I shook my head, but the grumble of an empty stomach gave me away.

“From the looks of you, I’ll bet you have nowhere to go. I don’t normally entertain beggars, but I ‘spose you can stay in the spare room upstairs, girl. I don’t want no trouble. There’s some mutton stew in the kitchen on the stove and a jar of chicken livers for your little beast on the shelf in the pantry.” She stood from her seat, decrepit knees cracking and straining as she straightened them. “Bathing chamber is upstairs, at the end of the hall. Wash all that mud off. I don’t want you tracking anything into the spare room.”

“Thank you, but I couldn’t,” I said, securing the laces of my boots.

“Don’t be stupid, girl. If you don’t stay here, without anywhere to go you wouldn’t make it through the night with this storm,” she said.

The barkeep had a point. I had no options. I’d have to trust in this total stranger or face the unrelenting elements.

“If you insist…” I trailed off, realizing I didn’t catch her name.

“Frya.” She grunted as she locked the front door, dimmed the oil sconces and began slowly ascending the dusty stairs in the far corner of the tavern. “I expect you to be up and ready to work in the morning. Oh, and next time you’re trying to hide who you are, Lady Elpis, might I suggest coming up with your story beforehand, eh?” She chuckled and disappeared into the shadow of the second story.

My jaw dropped to the floor. She had recognized me. Should I take the risk or slit her throat while she slept? Under no circumstance would she report to the city guard. Was her hospitality a trick? I glanced out a dusty window, inspecting the street for any sign of the guards. Maybe she had sent the drunk to fetch them. If that were the case, they’d be here any second.

All was quiet and still outside as snow whipped across the glass. My stomach grumbled louder. I was out of options. Arcturas grumbled in her sleep at my feet, content in the warmth of shelter. If we left now, we wouldn’t last long. Even if we stayed hidden from the guards, we’d freeze to death in this cold front. Glancing out the window once more, I scanned the sidewalks for any sign of commotion. Not even a lone guard patrolled the street. The smell of mutton stew simmering in the kitchen and the crackle of firewood held me captive. I couldn’t bear the thought of going out again. Sighing, I rose to my feet. I’d stay for the night, but keep my cloak close and my knife even closer.

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