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This town smells. It smells much worse than any other place I’ve ever been. I gag as we ride through the gate and the stench of piss, shit and rot wafts over us. Dark rivulets run through the middle of the streets and people throng the squares and alleys, many hanging out of second-story windows and yelling at each other. Laundry hangs on lines between buildings, and horses and donkeys dump steaming piles wherever they stand, which in turn are rolled flat by the wheels of the carts and carriages.
Oh Goddess… I clamp a hand over my mouth and nose as we walk through the town, looking for an inn. I want a room so I can shut this stench off or I’ll die of smell poisoning.
“Don’t worry,” Taj says as if hearing my inner thoughts. “We’ll find a place.”
But the first inn we encounter is full, as proclaimed by the sign hanging on its very closed gate.
As is the second one.
“What’s going on?” I whisper. “Is there a festival or something we’re not aware of?”
“It’s just a big town,” Taj says, “and very popular with merchants. There’s a deep canal on the other side of the hill that links the town with the river, making it a port.”
“What if we head that way? Perhaps there are more inns?”
“I wouldn’t. All the drunk sailors will be roaming and every bed will be taken for sure.”
Crap.
“We’ll find a place,” Taj says again, stubbornly.
Kiaran snorts and shakes his shaggy head but offers no comment.
The next inn we find is quieter than the previous ones, and though there’s no sign on the gate, once we ride into the yard, a man who has to be the innkeeper walks out to meet us, a dark frown on his face.
“We’re full,” he says. “Go someplace else.”
“There is no other place,” Taj says.
Kiaran bares his teeth.
I moan softly, partly in frustration and partly in pain. The heat in my veins has returned full-force and I ache so badly in my belly I could cry.
“Please, good sir.” Taj puts on his charming smile that turns him into a lovable rake. “The lady is exhausted and in need of nourishment and a bed. We have coin. We don’t need a big room—”
“There are no free rooms. You can eat here,” he says, “but there’s no place to sleep.”
“Please,” I whisper. I won’t break down, I tell myself. I won’t.
“We don’t need much.” Taj opens his arms, hands palms-up. “We can bed in the stable with the horses. Just to get out of the cold for the night.”
“In the stables. That won’t be free,” he mutters, giving us suspicious looks.
“Of course not. We’re ready to pay.”
“Good. Then…” He casts us another suspicious look, lingering on Kiaran. “Leave your horses and come inside to eat. And stay away from the soldiers. This is their favorite inn, and they’ve already picked up two fights tonight. May the gods give me patience.”
“We will,” Taj promises, keeping his grin on, even as my heart starts racing.
What if they recognize Taj? What if they know to look out for us?
Too late to back out now, though, and no other place to go. We just have to keep our heads down, eat, sleep and be on our way.
23
ARIADNE
The innkeeper hadn’t been lying. The main hall of the inn is full to bursting with people seated at long tables, eating stew from bread trenches and quaffing beer and mead, shouting and laughing and singing songs with bawdy lyrics.
