Page 47 of Tusks & Saddles
“It’s very good whiskey,” Amaldona had said. “All the clerics at the seminary raved about it. I never had any but they all swore by it.”
Welborn’s concern had only grown worse as Amaldona went on. He nearly fell over when he realized his fellow cleric had spent the night camped out near the well. She insisted that it was fine—it was how she and the High Cleric had been living for weeks.
“That was when you had the High Cleric with you, but it’s not safe to camp alone, Amaldona,” Welborn chided—as much as he would allow himself to. “If we can’t find the High Cleric by nightfall, I think it’s best if we find an inn to stay the night.”
The irony wasn’t lost on him. Maybe Miss Eaves put a little fear in him with her talk about the dangers of the new continent. Or maybe it was that Welborn simply knew better. Despite Amaldona’s reluctance, she eventually agreed. They had a late lunch—dried fruit and jerky—and Amaldona packed up camp. While she secured her pack, Welborn scribbled a note in case the High Cleric came back, directing him toCutter’s Tavern & Inn. Hope in their hearts, the two clerics made their way to town.
Hours later, there was still no trace of the High Cleric.
Amaldona took it in stride—but Welborn suspected she was a lot more concerned than she was letting on. They had just met, but he was fairly certain Amaldona was the type to hide her discomfort and worry beneath a mask of pleasant nervousness. It was clear she was eager and devoted to the All Seer—gods knew she spoke aloud enough to them. But there was an underlining insecurity there. A need to prove herself that Welborn assumed came from the same place his own need came from.
Assisting the expansion of the All Seer was not something to be taken on lightly. It was a responsibility that his father had stressed once Welborn shared the news. Luckily, his father had seen his sincerity in the matter and let him go.
Yes, there was a lot of pressure with building the new temple, but Welborn was more worried about the High Cleric’s safety. Miss Eaves spoke as if she was local to the area, well traveled, too. And while she had been a bit…abrasive, Welborn had noted the truthfulness in her words. They may have been less than pleasant at the end, but she meant what she said. A rarity in some parts of the world, even now.
“Let’s book a room at the tavern. We can ask about the High Cleric while we rest a bit,” Welborn suggested.
Amaldona led Welborn toCutter’s Tavern & Inn.Like many taverns, there was a familiarity to the space. Whether it was the boisterous and happy drunks or the scent of freshly cooked meats and vegetables, Welborn wasn’t sure. He did notice Amaldona’s eyes grow wide and her posture tense up. And if she followed a tiny bit closer to his shoulder, Welborn wasn’t going to bring it up.
Welborn scanned the room with the tiniest hope that he would spot anyone matching the description of the High Cleric. That hope was quickly dashed as there wasn’t a gray goblin in sight. Orange, green, and teal goblins, yes, but not gray. His eyes did spot a small corner table near one of the windows near the bar.
“Why don’t you take a seat over there? I can grab a room—”
“A room?!” Amaldona exclaimed.
“—rooms,” Welborn corrected, though he felt a bit sheepish.
Apparently Amaldona had enough money for her own room and didn’t need to pile into a room the way his family had while traveling.
“And we can order something to drink and rest a bit. I’ll be right back.”
“A milk would be wonderful,” Amaldona said.
Welborn paused.
“Milk, got it.”
And father thought I was sheltered…
Whatever passing thought Welborn’s worried mind had planned was gone the moment he saw the familiar figure standing at the bar. It had only been hours ago, but Welborn’s breath still faltered as if he hadn’t seen her in years. Odd, given he hadn’t realized he had missed her and had never missed someone so quickly before. Perhaps it was that…need—for lack of a better word—that drove Welborn to approach her.
“Miss Eaves?”
Her frame—her beautiful,beautifulframe—tensed for a moment. The sudden shift in her shoulders indicating she had not been anticipating his arrival. Welborn supposed she wouldn’t have given what she had said earlier but—
Oh, that was the same metal device she had aimed at him right in his face again, wasn’t it?
“What did I tell you about sticking your nose where it wasn’t wanted, Welborn?”
Honestly, he was beginning to question his own common sense himself.
But she said my name…
Welborn snapped out of his dreamy haze, expression panicked as his hands shot up in a placating manner.
“That I could end up six feet under but this isn’t me being nosy, Miss Eaves!” Welborn exclaimed. “I-I mean, technically you could view me being here as nosy but not for the reasons you’re thinking! It’s purely coincidental given that this is a relatively small city in comparison to places like Port Vurbali or Beryland—”
“I will shoot you if you don’t get to the point.”
