Page 12 of Tusks, Tails & Teacakes
Sass grinned but Lira squared her shoulders. “Actually, if you could spare a few coins, I could whip up something a bit more substantial. Might be good to test out the kitchen, see what it can do after all this time.” Then she slid a glance toward Sass. “Neither of us want to deal with a hungry dwarf.”
Sass opened her mouth as if to protest, then shrugged and grinned. “So, you do know dwarves.”
Durn's bushy eyebrows pressed together, but after a moment of consideration, he fished a handful of copper bits from his pocket and plunked them onto the table. “Find Boden in the market. He’ll give you the best prices, especially if you tell him it’s for the tavern.”
“Boden,” Lira repeated to imprint the name in her memory. She didn’t remember a Boden from her childhood in the village, but that had been a while ago.
“My wife’s brother,” Durn added before turning and leaving the kitchen.
Sass raised an eyebrow at Lira, but neither of them commented. Lira took off the apron and draped it over the worktable, slid thecopper bits off the counter and into her pocket, then jerked her head at Sass. “You staying here?”
The dwarf propped the broom against the wall and fell into step beside her eagerly. “And let you do all the picking? Not when I have some ideas for how to spruce up the main room.”
Lira didn’t know how far the copper bits would take them, but there was no arguing that the tavern needed all the sprucing up it could get. “You like to redecorate taverns when you aren’t looking for work as a fighter?”
Sass strode out the back door behind Lira. “Let’s say I’ve been in a few taverns, and I know what makes a good one, and I left the bar in Eldu a sight better than when I arrived.”
“As long as The Tusk & Tail doesn’t look like a dwarven mine.”
“You’ve clearly never seen the inside of one,” Sass said under her breath.
Lira didn’t correct her. She would take the tale of sneaking into a dwarven mine to her grave.
As they walked along the stream behind the tavern and headed toward the center of the village, her own gait slow so Sass could keep up, Lira didn’t care if they appeared to be an odd pairing. It had been months since she’d been in the company of a friend, or at least someone who wasn’t an adversary. She’d forgotten how much she’d missed it.
Seven
The village wasa fair sight more appealing in the day. The thatched roofs that had swollen with rain the night before were now drying under the relentless sun, and the whitewashed buildings had been scrubbed clean by the storm. But even with the blue sky and warm sunlight, the air was crisp, making Lira wish her cloak wasn’t back at the tavern, covered in mud.
Wayside had always been a speck of a village with its buildings pressed together as if sharing warmth against the wilderness beyond, the high-peaked roofs facing off across the main thoroughfare. The Tusk & Tail stood weary sentinel across from the old mill, where the great wheel groaned lazily in the stream. Across the stream from themill, the combined blacksmith and wheelwright squatted low and solid, the workshops run by an orc couple, steam and smoke rising from their forge in lazy spirals.
Lira turned away from the rhythmic clang of metal striking metal and wheel splashing water, heading toward the town square. She could already hear the chattering of vendors at their stalls and the creak of carts rolling over sodden roads.
It was all so familiar, such a powerful reminder of her childhood, that a pang twisted her heart. She’d thought she was too quest-hardened to feel nostalgia, but with each step down the road more memories rushed back, and the ache in her chest pulsed like a festering wound. Lira rubbed the spot below her collarbone as if she could smooth out the bittersweet twinge.
“So, this is home?” Sass asked, taking quick strides to keep up with Lira’s longer legs.
Lira slowed her pace and glanced down. “It was.”
The dwarf swiveled her head from side to side. “Not a bad place, this. Why would you leave?”
Lira thought about how much to tell. She liked Sass. She got a good feeling from her. But that didn’t mean she was foolish enough to trust her fully. Not yet.
“My gran died.” She kept her gaze fastened on the road. “I didn’t have any coin to pay off the debt on her farm, which meant I didn’t have a home. Even if I’d taken up the offer of lodging from my gran’s best friend, I needed a change. I needed to see something beyond this village.”
“I guess we have something in common after all.” Sass didn’t look at her. “I wanted to see more than what was hidden beneath the mountains.”
Lira had seen enough of the Ice Lands to understand that sentiment completely. Unlike the rolling hills of Elmshire, that burgeoned with halfling holes, or the elven city of Lananore, that perched on alabaster cliffs and hid walkways and bridges beneath glittering waterfalls, the Ice Lands were merciless and unwelcoming.
As they continued down the road that was flanked by rows of shops, Lira recognized the chandler on one side, strings of tallow candles swagged across the front window, and the tinker’s shop tucked beside it, its windows murky with dust and a closed sign hanging in the door.
Sass put a hand on her arm. “Do you smell that?”
Lira drew in a breath as she followed the dwarf’s gaze to the shop on the other side of the road. The door was thrown open, which explained why the air was heavy with the aroma of fresh bread. “The baker, Pip Brambleheart.” She remembered the baker’s brother, Fennigan, or Fenni, who owned the cheese shop next door to the bakery. “And the cheese monger.”
“Halflings?” Sass asked, her tone hopeful.
Lira nodded. Halflings were known for their skills as bakers and cheese mongers. Not only did they relish eating the most delicious breads and cheeses, they loved to make them.
