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Naturally, she used his name often.
Wilf used his chin to gesture down the street. “I think we passed a tavern back there.”
That was not the tavern she needed. She gestured up the street with her free hand. “Let’s go this way instead.” She started walking, heading deeper into the city.
Cardon and Wilf were quick to follow, and she wasn’t really surprised when Cardon stepped around her so he could lead and protect her from the front. “Tell us when you find a tavern you like,” he said, a hint of sarcasm in his voice.
Serene only hoped she’d remember where the Fiddler was.
While they walked, she strained to overhear anything that might be useful. Men, women, and children shopped, chatted, worked, and walked together. The topics she heard in their conversations were many and varied. Laments about the price of corn. Complaints about the early rains. Murmurs about the tribes. The last caught Serene’s attention, but there was no point in lingering to listen further; it was two women, and they quickly switched to discussing Imara and Skyer’s upcoming wedding, with a debate of what customs the couple would incorporate into the marriage ceremony.
They passed several taverns, but none was the Fiddler. Serene could feel Wilf’s growing impatience, even though he said nothing. Cardon just kept glancing at her, a furrow between his brows.
The city slowly darkened around them, and Serene was nearly ready to give up and choose a random tavern when, suddenly, there it was.
“That one,” she said, pointing.
Cardon studied the outside, probably trying to discern what made the Fiddler stand out for her. It looked as crowded as the others they’d passed, and the same style of pipe music drifted through the open door.
She didn’t wait for him to question her. Striding across the street, Serene led the way into the large, crowded great room. Lamps glowed on the assorted tables and along the bar against the back wall. The atmosphere was boisterous and loud.
Perfect.
Serene stepped up to the bar, where a harried-looking barkeep threw her a glance. “Three ales, please,” she requested, aware of Cardon and Wilf pressing in on either side of her.
The man hurried away to fetch the drinks.
Serene sat on one of the tall wooden stools, her hands folded atop the stained bar. She hoped she looked innocent of any conspiring. “Perhaps we should split up,” she said, her tone mild. “We’d learn more that way.”
Cardon sighed and spoke over her head at Wilf. “I’ll stay with her.”
Wilf only grunted.
Serene hadn’t expected Cardon to leave her, but it would have made things easier. She needed to talk to the barkeep alone.
Wilf remained standing on her side, clearly waiting for their drinks.
Cardon claimed the stool beside her. “We shouldn’t stay long,” he said. “I want to reach the inn before full dark.”
“No more than an hour,” Serene promised.
The barkeep returned with their drinks. While Cardon handed over the requisite coins, she studied the man. The barkeeper was a little younger than she’d expected, but it was possible he wasn’t the owner of the Fiddler—and that’s who she needed.
Before she had a chance to ask, he darted away to fill another order. She’d have to wait for him to come back.
She lifted her mug and took a sip. The ale was strong, making her cough a little. Wilf and Cardon both looked at her, so she hurried to clear her throat. “It’s good,” she assured them. “You should try it.”
“I don’t drink,” Cardon said.
“You don’t?” she asked, surprised.
He shook his head. “Not really. I’ll occasionally buy a drink with the other guards, usually when we’re celebrating something, but I never finish it.”
Serene stared. Fates, she hadn’t known that.
Wilf didn’t seem surprised by the revelation. He leaned around her and plucked up Cardon’s mug. “No use wasting it,” he said.
Concern prickled Serene’s skin. She knew Wilf had struggled with drunkenness after losing his wife, and she didn’t want him to over-indulge now. But she shouldn’t have worried—Wilf was on-duty, whether he was in uniform or not. Lifting both drinks, he nodded across the room. “Those men in the corner seem the drunkest. I’ll share some ale and see if they know anything useful.”
