Read Online The Sons of Hull by Lindsey Scholl - Free Book Online Page A

preferably.”
    Stankley’s eyebrows drew together, making it obvious that he not pleased at this intrusion. He was a hefty fellow, with bristly hair and hairy arms. Vancien figured he didn’t take his displeasure lightly, and prepared himself to be thrown out any minute.
    But Stankley decided on a small dose of hospitality. “We’ve got some eggs we can cook and some bits of poultry. The rolls are cold, but they’ll do.”
    “And a room?”
    “You’re lucky everybody’s leaving town. Seven athas each for the rooms, ten total for the dinner and drinks.”
    “Ten for dinner and drinks! That’s ludicrous! Why, when I was here last, I could get two full meals and better vintage than Pure for eight athas!”
    Stankley shrugged his burly shoulders. “I’ve got to pay for my journey back, primate. You know that.” He clunked two glasses on the bar, slopping the liquid over his hands. “Have a seat, boy. It’ll be a while, as I’ll cook it myself.” Without another word, he disappeared through a back door into what Vancien presumed to be the galley.
    “Are they this friendly all through the Pass?”
    Sirin sipped his drink. “Well, it’s the beginning of breach and tempers are sharp. But there’s only a bit of town left, then Middle Pass. Not many people to annoy on the way, I fear.”
    “Middle Pass?”
    “You’re a useless bratling. All you know of Lore and nothing of geography. Do you think there’s a comfortable tavern all the way through the Pass to comfort your weary hide? You’ll soon learn that not everybody’s out to pamper you. There are two autore settlements on the southern and northern mouths of the Pass, but between those is one path, surrounded by fearful woods. Many travel there and survive—at least, if they journey through the day. During the night,” his voice dropped to an ominous whisper, “mysterious things have happened. Dreadful things.”
    Vancien rolled his eyes. “Spare me the melodrama. What have you got against me?”
    “Three things: you’re a human, you’re young, and you’re stupid.”
    “Then perhaps I’d be better off without you.” It was a surly suggestion, born of irritation, grief, and fatigue.
    Sirin set his drink down. “I’m positive you’d be better off without me. I’m a nasty old primate.” He leaned forward, widening his beady red eyes dramatically. “Leave.”
    Despite his dark mood, Vancien could not help but laugh. “I can’t. I have to eat first.”
    Sirin hunched his furry shoulders, hiding his pleasure at the boy’s response. “So be it.”
    Just then the back door banged open and in trundled Stankley with two steaming plates full of eggs and meat. Conversation ceased as the two travelers eyed their food.
    “I had a second to heat up your rolls,” the barman began gruffly. “No extra charge, but no complaints, neither.”
    Vancien thanked him profusely as Sirin inhaled a fistful of egg. Then the boy, too, eagerly began his first warm meal in days.
    The rooms were small and sparsely furnished. Glimpses of rough-hewn wooden beams could easily be seen through threadbare rugs and scatterings of rushes. The pallets, supported a few handbreadths above the floor by scratchy timber frames, consisted of piles of straw bunched into thick woolen cases. There were no pillows, and each chamber was illuminated by a swinging candle-and-mirror, hanging dismally from the ceiling. When Sirin protested this crude lodging, their host gave a by-now characteristic shrug and mumbled something about preparing for his journey.
    “Pay me now, or pay me in the morning. Whichever you like.”
    The barman’s lantern scarcely lit the dark hallway as Vancien dug into a pouch and produced four coins. He handed them one by one into Stankley’s waiting palm.
    “There’s a twenty-piece and a ten. The extra six should cover the service, I think.”
    In the flickering light, he could see Stankley’s eyebrows rise in suspicion. He said nothing, however, except a