Page 45 of With Fangs and Claws (The Wolf Queen 1)

Chapter 20

“So, women can drink in an alehouse, just like the men?” I asked as the horses ambled back to the town.

“There’s not much a man can do that a woman can’t,” Pep replied. “Because some people are two-souled and some have one. Ability, strength, capacity varies from person to person, so gender isn’t the deciding factor. If you want a beer in the pub, we can grab one when we get back.”

I thought of the way my father used to hurry me past the alehouse when we stayed at an inn, knights at my side like I was under attack. I felt a customary reluctance to say yes, which of course just made me more determined to do just that.

“I’d like that,” I said.

“The princes are beside themselves,”Nordred said as Pep and I reined in the horses on our return to the stable yard. He rubbed under Arden’s forelock before looking up at me. “According to them, half of Grania is preparing to kidnap you.”

My jaw tightened, but I just nodded in acknowledgement as I dismounted.

“Pep’s going to introduce me to the wonders of beer,” I said, moving to remove Arden’s bridle. “Can we persuade you to come and have one with us?” He blinked, and in his expression I saw the establishment of that customary invisible wall between the lady of the house and a servant. Didn’t I just want to pull it down, brick by brick? “Father’s not here to tell you can’t.”

“I don’t suppose he is,” he said. “And if that’s the case, you young ladies can lend me a hand untacking these fine fellows.”

I chuckled at that and the three of us moved through the motions that were so familiar that in doing so, muscle memory kicked in and, as Pep said, I started to feel more like myself. Hang up the tack. Put the saddle with the others. Make sure the horses had plenty of water and some feed. Consult the states of their stalls, making sure the stable lads were doing their jobs. It all helped settle me before I walked into the much less familiar environment of the pub.

A few more people had come in since we’d passed through earlier, and some were having a meal, but the overall mood was quiet and laid back. In stark contrast to my internal state.

“What’re ye having?” asked the man who came to our table to take our orders, in a slightly bored tone.

Nordred put in his order, Pep doing the same, before their eyes all turned to me.

“And for you, miss?” the man prompted.

I just stared, bemused. They hadn’t just asked for beer, they’d used these other words that indicated there were different varieties, and I’d known none of them.

“She’ll have an amber ale,” Pep replied when the silence stretched on, “and a bowl of the stew with some of that good bread Cook makes.”

The man nodded and then went to get our order.

“This is not like Elverston,” Nordred mused, somehow articulating exactly what I was thinking. The man returned, placing ceramic tankards full of beer before us.

“No, it’s not,” I said as I traced the shapes that had been embossed on the side of the mug. A stylised wolf carved in a circle, chasing the tail of a raven, as it chased the wolf’s. It was precisely the unfamiliarity that had me lifting the tankard and taking a drink. But the other two started chuckling as my eyes went wide, then scrunched up in reaction to the bitterness I tasted, something I then mentioned.

“That’s not even the most bitter brew they’ve got,” Pep said with a snort.

But whatever shortcomings my beer might have had, the meal more than made up for them. Seeing a man waiting on tables, let alone carrying three bowls, was a strange sight, but as he deposited our meals on the table, the savoury aromas rose and filled my nose, leaving my mouth watering.

“Don’t stand on ceremony, girls,” Nordred said, grabbing his wooden spoon and tucking in.

Once I tasted the stew, it was easy to see why he was so quick to enjoy the meal. All of us made little sounds of pleasure as we took a first bite. Hot, savoury and laden with herbs to make it flavoursome, with chunks of beef that melted in your mouth, along with cubes of celery, carrot, potato and pumpkin. We spooned up the contents of our bowls quickly, then spread the bread we’d been given with thick yellow butter and cleaned the dregs up with that. A contented peace fell over the table.

“If this is Strelan life,” I said, staring into my beer, “I can’t understand why there isn’t a stampede at the border to get in.”

“Our heathenish ways have gotten to you already,” Pep said with a smirk. “Wait until you…”

My eyes jerked up as her voice trailed away and I saw that we’d been joined now by four familiar figures. It felt like my gaze travelled up, up, up, until I found all of the wargs staring down at me.

“If you’ll excuse us?” Weyland said in a low tone. “We need to have a word with our mate.”

“Pepin,” I said when she got to her feet, but she just shook her head.

“I’ll catch up with you later. There’s more adventure to be had in Bayard, just not right now.” She tapped the side of her nose, then winked. “I’ve got a few kettles on the boil and some of them should be just about whistling by now.”

She nodded to everyone before taking her leave.

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