Vengeance of the Dragon Queen

Chapter 4

  The village was small, Ma'Shen wasn't even sure you could call it a village. What made the place so prosperous however was that the main highway ran right through its centre. Almost all the businesses on that stretch of road were either Inn's or hostels. Moving along the road he passed a large number of garishly painted places before finally settling on an older plainer looking place. Looking up at the building he noticed that despite being old the whitewash was new, the windows clean, and the smell of fresh roasted beef reminded him it's had been near a full day since he'd last ate. Smiling he walked into the common room, looked around briefly, noticing the place seems deserted. Moving further into the room he settled at a table by the fire and waits.
    Shortly, a young girl of around nine winters came in carrying a large pile of wood which she deposited close to the fire. "Good morning sir," she speaks to him with a high pitch squeaky voice. "Are you wanting breakfast, or a room? I'm sorry but the meat isn't fully cooked yet."
    "Breakfast if you wouldn't mind please” Ma’Shen replies with a smile. "What are you offering? I'd also like the prices for your rooms." The girl points to a blank board on the wall, then blushed as she realised it's blank.
    "I'm sorry, papa hasn't put up the menu yet, but I think we have..." she counts off on her fingers, "bread, cheese, cold ham, eggs, and soup." Scrunching her eyes she concentrates. "Oh, and we have some of yesterdays cold beef left, I think that's everything. Oh, and we have porridge of course." Putting her hands behind her back she beams at him, proud of herself for remembering the menu, and rocks slightly on her heels waiting for his order.
    "Well, let's see. How about I start with some bread, cheese and the cold ham, and a mug of soup, how much will those cost me?"
    Again using her fingers, she frowns as she struggles to count up the tally, "uhm...three...no four certi." She waits as he counts out four small silver coins into her hand, then hands her two small copper jerti coins.
    "Here, these are for the cute little girl." Pocketing the coins she beams at him again, and then runs off towards the kitchen.
    Turning to the fire he leans back, and stares at the flames, pondering the past few weeks of travel. Six weeks since I left the monastery, seems this wandering life suits me. I feel stronger than I have in years. I can't help feel like I'm being followed though, it's a nagging feeling. Looking out the window of the Inn, lost in thought when the young girl returns with an older man carrying a tray with his breakfast.
    "Me lass 'ere be a saying ya be wan'ing a room," the man's accent is atrocious enough, but Ma'Shen notice's he barely moves his mouth when speaking. He guesses that at some point in the past the man's jaw had been broken and then healed. Judging by the lack of movement it was either healed through normal means, or a low level magic user.
    "Please, I require lodging for a few nights while I regain my strength from my travels." The man nods at him.
    "Pro'lem there lad, we got no rooms free a' the momen'. Only the common lof' lef'," the man rubs his chin causing it to click horribly. "Tha' be half crown a nigh', you ge' your evenin' meal with that." Nodding, Ma'Shen rummages through his belt pouch and draws out three half crown coins and passes them over. The man smiles and drops them into a wooden case strapped on his waist. "Three nigh's it is." Looking down at the girl, he ruffles her hair, "When yer ready Sophia 'ere will show ya up, an' show ya the lockers. Warning, don' use any other locker, they be magicked to each visitor." Nodding, the man heads off back to the kitchen.
    Smiling at Sophia, he turns his attention to the meal. Sophia watches him for a few minutes, and then sets out finishing her chores.
    He quickly finishes the breakfast, and leans back, contemplating his current situation. Even though I was using the main archives, I don't understand how they found out about me. Nothing I used stands out as being exceptionally heretical. I mean the archives are open to anyone with ten years of service under their belt. Frowning he picks up the mug of soup and sips it, cautious of the scalding liquid. "Never really liked onion soup." he mutters to himself.
    So, I've already been killed it seems for heresy at that. It was bound to happen eventually I know, but for it happen so fast... Suppressing a sigh he looks out the window, and stares at the mountain range he's headed to. According to the texts I've translated so far, there should be a place on the northern most peak. I'm guessing it's a monastery of some sort. If I can get there I may be able to find some peace, or at least sanctuary long enough to finish my translations. Finishing the soup he places the mug down on the table, looking around he catches Sophia’s.
    "You want to be shown to the loft now?" She smiles up at him, but he shakes his head in reply.
    "Could you tell me if there's a good smith in town, I need to purchase a good walking staff, and I'm also after some winter clothing." Sophia frowns in thought, and shakes her head.
    "I'll ask papa, he knows the shops." Before he can stop her she's run off to the kitchen calling for her father. Ma'Shen absently plays with the mug while he waits, but it's not long before she returns. "Papa says there's a good smith on the outskirts of the town, you go out the front door and follow the path around the back. The other one in town papa says charges to much." Moving to the window she points to a small building across the road. "Papa says to try Aunty Aran for your clothes, that's where he gets ours from."
    Climbing to his feet he pulls the pack on and turns to her again. "Thank you for breakfast, it was delicious," Sophia smiles even wider; "I'll be back later on, then you can show me to where I'll be sleeping."
    He walks out the door and follows the path around towards the blacksmith. Sophia watches him for a while till he's out of sight, then returns to her chores.