Lodestone Book One: The Sea of Storms by Mark Whiteway Read Free Book Online

stomach.
She turned to the older woman. “Thank you.”
    Hedda was still bustling. “It’s
the least we could do. You did a very brave thing
tonight.”
    Shann felt confused. No-one had
ever called her “brave” in her entire life. What was more, she
could not think what she could have done to earn that title now.
She decided to change the subject. “How did you know where to find
me?”
    Hedda smiled. “How many young
women do you think have arrived in a bedraggled state on the road
from Corte tonight? Alondo was sent to keep watch for you. A good
pair of eyes is one of his few attributes. We could not be certain,
of course, but the road east from Corte goes towards Chalimar, and
it did not seem likely you would head towards the serpent’s nest,
with the serpents after you. We also knew you had been given the
disc, so there could be no confusion as to who you
were.”
    Shann`s mind
was still a little foggy, but she digested the implication. “You know the man who gave me the
disc?”
    “Yes, indeed.”
    “Who is he?”
    Hedda pressed her lips together.
“Enough for tonight. I can tell you are exhausted and the night is
well along. You need to rest. There will be time enough for answers
in the morning. And you will have another journey to make then, if
you are strong enough. Wait here. I will see if my fool of a son
has made up your room yet, or whether he has forgotten the task he
was sent to do and is instead composing another one of his airy
ballads.”
    She got up and swept through the
kitchen door, leaving Shann alone for the moment. Shann suddenly
felt an all-enveloping sense of weariness. She pushed her bowl
away, folded her hands on the table and rested her head. Within
minutes, she was sound asleep.
    ~
    Keris, diamond merchant and
traveller from the mines of Thalissa, deep in the mountains of
Tragar, entered the Inn of the Leaping Dagan just off the market
square in Corte.
    The atmosphere within the Inn was
redolent with the odour of horge, a sweet liquor distilled from
kalash. The décor was sparse, a plain wooden floor covered with
sawdust and unadorned wooden walls. A shassatan board was laid out
on a table in the corner, but no-one was playing. There was a small
serving area, fronted by a loose scattering of tables and stools.
Behind the serving area stood a tall man with sharp features,
wearing an apron. He cast an appraising eye over his patrons as if
he were somehow weighing their coin purses.
    It was early evening, and there
were no more than eight customers. Even so, Keris` limited
experience with places like these suggested that they were usually
far more raucous, even with a limited clientele. By contrast, this
establishment seemed positively subdued. Men and women sat hunched
together round tables, murmuring to each other in low tones and
sipping like gentlefolk. A few glanced in Keris` direction as she
entered and then returned to nursing their drinks, as if
disappointed.
    Keris strolled to the serving
area, pulled up a stool and sat down. She sighed and shook her hair
loose, feigning the symptoms of a hard day’s work; then reached
inside her surcoat and tossed a collection of small coins in the
tall man’s direction.
    “Horge.”
    The man’s face lit up at the
sight of the coin. “How do you like it?” he asked.
    “Hot and sweet.”
    He swept up the coin with a
practiced sleight of hand and produced, as if from nowhere, a
steaming mug of horge. Keris cradled the earthenware mug and sipped
at the hot dark fluid. It was sweet, with a subtle aftertaste.
Horge was served at the Keep, but she was accustomed to taking her
meals at the refectory with water. Of course, to walk into a place
like this and order water would have only attracted amusement or
suspicion or both.
    She surfaced from her drink.
“Nice,” she lied.
    “Only the finest horge you will
taste in the whole of the Eastern Provinces,” he declared loudly,
as if advertising the fact to everyone within earshot. No-one
looked