Page 157 of Silverbow
“Dreamwalker!”
“Fire bringer!”
Liam eyed a little girl who darted forward with a bouquet of flowers. She shyly offered them to Enya who bent to take them from her. She tucked a blossom behind the girl’s ear before she scampered back to her mother’s skirts.
“Make way!” Master Graniteforge boomed even though the dwarves left plenty of room for their party to pass. “Leave the Prince be!”
“Is it always like this?” Liam asked as he found himself left alone with Aiden in the stable behind Wayforge’s only inn. He eyed the stalls that looked made for ponies, not hulking giants like Arawelo or Kiawa.
“You mean the fawning?” The fire wielder asked. “Oh, yes.”
Bloody wonderful.By the time Liam ducked through the back door of the cozy little inn, a serving woman was pouring amber colored liquid into thumb sized glasses at the high table occupied by Enya and the demi-elves. As he slid onto a stone stool, he realized it was only high compared to the shorter, squatter furniture made for dwarves.
Liam settled into a chair as Bade raised a glass. All eyes fell on Elred’s Eagle.
“To Renley Ryerson,” the dark eyed demi-elf growled. Liam held his breath, watching Enya’s face. “Someone really ought to give the man a bloody medal.”
“For what?” Enya asked, holding her own glass aloft.
“For keeping you alive, Silverbow. I’m not sure even Nimala could manage that on their own.”
Enya huffed and threw back the drink. Liam tipped his own glass back and found himself coughing and spluttering as smoke seeped from his nose. Aiden thumped him on the back. The liquid seared on the way down, bringing tears to his eyes.
“Best leave the stonebrew to the folk with hair on their chests,” he sniggered.
“What the bloody hell is that?” He rasped.
“Simdeni’s piss, if you ask me,” Aiden answered. He arched a brow at the dwarves around them. “But they get rather offended if you don’t take what they offer.”
Colm leaned on the table, his face grave as he took in Liam and Enya. “When it comes to dining in Tuminzar, it’s extremely rude to refuse a course. Blood feuds have been started for less.”
Blood feuds?Liam furrowed his brow.Were the dwarves as mad as the demi-elves?
“Pace yourselves.”
Liam understood the warning as soon as the platters began to appear from the kitchens. The round-faced serving women beamed at their party like Oryn was a bloody god as they deposited tray after tray fit for a feast. After more than a week of salt beef and what the sailors called hardtack, Liam ate greedily. He watched Enya do the same and despite his warning, Colm tipped extra helpings onto her plate. Aiden held up his mug and a serving girl bustled to refill it.
“Traveling with royalty has its perks,” the fire wielder muttered to Liam.
He darted a look at Oryn, who had pushed back his plate and twisted on his stool, engrossed in a conversation with the burly proprietor. “Is he…”
“Prince of Eastwood, of course,” Aiden grinned. “Elred’s only heir.”
Liam let his fork clatter to his plate.Light.
Master Graniteforge reappeared in the inn. He clasped his hands together and gave Oryn another bow. “The messenger hawks have been sent, Your Grace.”
Oryn inclined his head in thanks.
“If you would allow an escort-”
A look passed between Oryn and Enya, the continuation of some argument Liam hadn’t heard. “A few days, Enya-”
“I would rather see the bloody healer a few days sooner,” she gritted.
Oryn nodded in concession and turned back to the dwarf. He was studying Enya with newfound wonder. “We leave at first light.”
“But Your Grace, the escort-”
