Read Online The Crowded Shadows by Celine Kiernan - Free Book Online
Authors: Celine Kiernan
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as unimportant.
“How do, travellers?” he said. “Not seen your faces afore. You lost?”
“We know where we’re headed, thanks,” said Christopher amiably, settling his crossbow against the wall.
“We were hoping for some hot food, and perhaps
…”
Razi stalled at the expression on the landlord’s face.
Christopher turned back from securing his weapon and his eyes shuttered as he caught the landlord staring at his mutilated hands. The landlord slowly raised his gaze and they locked eyes for a moment. Then Christopher’s mouth curved, his dimples flashed and he tilted his head in what Wynter recognised as the precursor to a joke. The landlord spoke first.
“Well, lad,” he said softly. “Some greasy magistrate had a field day with you, didn’t he?” Christopher opened his mouth to deny that he was a criminal, but the landlord turned and called into the kitchen. “Minnie! Some cider fer our friends.” He looked back down at them, still not smiling. “First one’s free. After that ye pay fer everythin’ according to the table of charges.” He jerked a meaty thumb to the chalked slate leaning against the counter. “Can ye read that?”
They nodded, a little dazed. As soon as the landlord had called for the free cider, the tarmen all pointedly concentrated on their food. The three men at the centre table craned to see Christopher’s hands, then turned back to their conversation. The man at the fireplace settled back in his chair, the tension gone from his posture.
It was obvious, now, what kind of trade was normal in this establishment. This was a bandits’ haunt all right, perhaps not exclusively so, considering the tarmen, but criminals were welcome, they were made to feel safe; and the three of them were now accepted as being part of that dubious brotherhood.
The landlord nodded at Christopher’s hands. “I hope yer kin went back to burn the courthouse down,” he said gravely. “I hope they put the Wig’s eyes out. Outrage like that shouldn’t go unavenged.”
Christopher remained expressionless, but Wynter felt Razi jerk beside her, his hands splaying compulsively on the tabletop. The man obviously approved of their continued silence and he let the subject die. “Minnie’ll be over fer yer order, nigh,” he said, and ambled off to occupy himself behind the counter.
They sat in silence for a moment. The landlord’s comment about vengeance seemed to have unbalanced Razi and Christopher, and they sat like stone lions on either side of Wynter, completely absorbed in their own thoughts. Wynter found herself watching the man at the fireplace; he was doing a skilful job on the harness. Now and again he would take a sip from his cider. His companion’s trencher-bread was going to collapse soon if it was not eaten.
The girl came with the cider. She placed it carefully in front of them, a tankard each, then leant her hip against the table. Her eyes roamed from Razi to Christopher and back. Wynter might as well have been an oily patch on the floor for all the attention she paid her.
“We sell company, if you fancy,” said the girl, smiling.
Christopher, still a little distant, cleared his throat and politely shook his head. Wynter took a sip of her cider and looked away. The girl’s eyes drifted to Razi who didn’t seem to have heard her at all.
“We got nothin’ against dark men,” she assured him.
Christopher chuckled. “We’re all right for company, thanks,” he said.
The girl’s eyes turned to Wynter in misplaced comprehension. “Ah!” she said.
“He doesn’t mean me!” cried Wynter.
“We just want some food, lass. If that suits?” grinned Christopher. His dimples were back in full force and Wynter saw the girl melt under his unrelenting charm. “Tell me,” he cried, slapping his hands together. “What’s the mutton like and does it come with gravy?”
Get What’s Coming
T he mutton was delicious, if Christopher’s quiet sighs and groans of pleasure
“How do, travellers?” he said. “Not seen your faces afore. You lost?”
“We know where we’re headed, thanks,” said Christopher amiably, settling his crossbow against the wall.
“We were hoping for some hot food, and perhaps
…”
Razi stalled at the expression on the landlord’s face.
Christopher turned back from securing his weapon and his eyes shuttered as he caught the landlord staring at his mutilated hands. The landlord slowly raised his gaze and they locked eyes for a moment. Then Christopher’s mouth curved, his dimples flashed and he tilted his head in what Wynter recognised as the precursor to a joke. The landlord spoke first.
“Well, lad,” he said softly. “Some greasy magistrate had a field day with you, didn’t he?” Christopher opened his mouth to deny that he was a criminal, but the landlord turned and called into the kitchen. “Minnie! Some cider fer our friends.” He looked back down at them, still not smiling. “First one’s free. After that ye pay fer everythin’ according to the table of charges.” He jerked a meaty thumb to the chalked slate leaning against the counter. “Can ye read that?”
They nodded, a little dazed. As soon as the landlord had called for the free cider, the tarmen all pointedly concentrated on their food. The three men at the centre table craned to see Christopher’s hands, then turned back to their conversation. The man at the fireplace settled back in his chair, the tension gone from his posture.
It was obvious, now, what kind of trade was normal in this establishment. This was a bandits’ haunt all right, perhaps not exclusively so, considering the tarmen, but criminals were welcome, they were made to feel safe; and the three of them were now accepted as being part of that dubious brotherhood.
The landlord nodded at Christopher’s hands. “I hope yer kin went back to burn the courthouse down,” he said gravely. “I hope they put the Wig’s eyes out. Outrage like that shouldn’t go unavenged.”
Christopher remained expressionless, but Wynter felt Razi jerk beside her, his hands splaying compulsively on the tabletop. The man obviously approved of their continued silence and he let the subject die. “Minnie’ll be over fer yer order, nigh,” he said, and ambled off to occupy himself behind the counter.
They sat in silence for a moment. The landlord’s comment about vengeance seemed to have unbalanced Razi and Christopher, and they sat like stone lions on either side of Wynter, completely absorbed in their own thoughts. Wynter found herself watching the man at the fireplace; he was doing a skilful job on the harness. Now and again he would take a sip from his cider. His companion’s trencher-bread was going to collapse soon if it was not eaten.
The girl came with the cider. She placed it carefully in front of them, a tankard each, then leant her hip against the table. Her eyes roamed from Razi to Christopher and back. Wynter might as well have been an oily patch on the floor for all the attention she paid her.
“We sell company, if you fancy,” said the girl, smiling.
Christopher, still a little distant, cleared his throat and politely shook his head. Wynter took a sip of her cider and looked away. The girl’s eyes drifted to Razi who didn’t seem to have heard her at all.
“We got nothin’ against dark men,” she assured him.
Christopher chuckled. “We’re all right for company, thanks,” he said.
The girl’s eyes turned to Wynter in misplaced comprehension. “Ah!” she said.
“He doesn’t mean me!” cried Wynter.
“We just want some food, lass. If that suits?” grinned Christopher. His dimples were back in full force and Wynter saw the girl melt under his unrelenting charm. “Tell me,” he cried, slapping his hands together. “What’s the mutton like and does it come with gravy?”
Get What’s Coming
T he mutton was delicious, if Christopher’s quiet sighs and groans of pleasure
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