“Good idea,” Jase said, pulling out his mother’s list and handing it to
Zander. “You soldier types are supposed to be the good guys.”
“Yeah, I know. But the townsfolk down there don’t have a very high
opinion of us right now. It never ceases to amaze me how a few bad ones can
give the whole garrison a bad name.”
“What are you going to do about it?”
“When I find out who they are, I’ll relieve them of their duty and send them
away without pay.”
“Kind of harsh, don’t you think?”
“Not at all. Tension has been mounting along the Riaki border near
Capena, and General Crompton fears it might escalate to the point of conflict.
If there is going to be a war, it might be a good idea to have the general public
rooting for us.”
When Zander finished putting together Brysia’s list, he helped Jase and
Daris carry the things out to the wagon. Jase handed him several gold coins and
smiled. “Keep the change, Zander,” he told him, patting the older man on the
shoulder. “And make sure the venison gets to those who need it most.”
“Sure thing, Jase,” Zander replied. “And thanks. Say hello to your mother
for me.”
“I’ll do that.”
Jase climbed into the wagon and looked down at Daris. “Are you up for a
drink?” he asked. “I’m buying.”
“You said the magic words,” he replied.
“Great. We can work out the details of your trip to Seston.”
Daris climbed into the wagon, and Jase urged A’shan forward. Tossing his
head angrily, the big black snorted with disgust but finally complied.
The Lazy Gentleman lay at the southernmost end of town, directly across the
road from its counterpart, The Cobblestone Inn. Both were owned by Fadus
Murra, the lazy gentleman for whom the tavern was named. A jovial fellow
whose width nearly equaled his height, Fadus spent most of his time at the inn
sitting in the common room or out on the porch where he would strike up
conversations with anyone willing to talk to him. His jolly, almost fatherly
manner inspired the kind of trust that often made those staying at his inn talk
freely, often telling more than they intended. If one needed to know what was
happening in Omer Forest, one needed only talk to Fadus. He often knew more
than the King’s intelligence personnel, and he usually knew it first.
As they reached the tavern, Jase looked across the street and found Fadus
sitting on the porch talking to a man and woman who appeared to be Zekan.
Fadus saw him and waved. The couple followed Fadus’ gaze, and Jase saw that
he had been right. There was no mistaking the thick, blonde hair and brown
eyes of Kelsa’s seafaring neighbors to the south.
Jase turned to Daris, “Maybe you should talk to Fadus before you leave for
Seston. He might know something about what’s going on down there.”
“Good idea,” Daris said, jumping down from the wagon. “I’ve often
wondered if we should sign him up with Kelsan Intelligence. He gets more
information from a smile and a How do ya do? than I could with a full interrogation.”
“I’ve thought about it,” Jase said, pulling open the tavern door. “But I like
Fadus the way he is. I’m afraid Kelsan Intelligence would ruin him.”
They took a table against the wall and sat down. A moment later Tana
Murra, Fadus’ daughter, came over to wait on them. Practically raised in the
tavern, she had started serving tables at age ten. Now at nineteen, she very
literally ran the place. A few years back, many of the tavern’s patrons, overawed
by Tana’s beauty, began referring to the tavern as The Pretty Maiden, and Jase
had overheard Fadus say he liked the name so much that he was going to
rename it and give it to Tana as a wedding present as soon as she found a
husband.
First-time visitors to The Lazy Gentleman were surprised to find such a
young woman in charge, but they soon found out that Tana could handle any
who might be looking for more than a drink. The last man who had pinched her
bottom, a merchant from some southern village, had gotten off easy with only
a couple of broken fingers. The incident before that had involved two
mercenary-looking types. One had received a broken nose, the other a
concussion that had left him unconscious for three days. They, like most of the
fool men who tried something, had been deceived by her fragile, doll-like
appearance.
Jase knew better. Tana may look like she was made of porcelain, but she was
as hard as iron and as agile as a cat. She had whipped him so many times in
wrestling matches when they were younger that he had lost count. He could
probably beat her now that they were grown, but it would be tough. And she
had ways of cheating now that had been nonexistent a few years ago. She knew
what effect her body had on him, and she used it to her advantage.
That shapely figure stopped in front of their table, and he found his eyes
wandering more than he liked. Heat flashed across his cheeks, and he forced his
eyes to hers. Con’Jithar! But it wasn’t fair for her to be so well-put-together. It
made concentrating on anything else extremely difficult.
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