In Shadowed Silence: Chapter 3
Aulric settled at a table in The Water's Edge, a tavern and inn wedged between the docks proper and the nearby markets. The place was always crowded in the mornings and after dark, but in the late afternoon, there was hardly a soul but the staff. He had done some odd jobs now and again for Retik, the publican and owner of the inn; light maintenance, dishes and scrubbing, mostly. He was diligent and thorough; rare qualities in most of the shiftless scoundrels and shirkers in the docks. His work ethic had earned him some favor amongst the staff and management. When his luck was off, he could almost always get a crust of bread or bowl of stew here.
The Waterside was typical of the inns here in the docks. It had a dirt floor, strewn with hay and sawdust, thick beams supporting the ceiling and dark, rough wood everywhere. The bar ran the length of the back wall, where the serious drinkers would gather and scowl at one another. The room was barely lit by a handful of oil lamps hanging from hooks over every third table and a single simple wooden wheel with candles moored at the ends of its six spokes, a chandelier hardly worthy of the name. Two small, shuttered windows provided the rest of the room's scant lighting.
A narrow staircase led to the second storey, where the Waterside's six rooms were located, validating its claim to be an inn, running from near the front of the house to the back , arching over the bar at its landing. Nine heavy tables and their sturdy chairs and benches spread around the small taproom would cater to the more social of those with coin burning holes in their pockets. One of these tables was nestled under the heavy planks of the staircase, where Aulric was seated. The place was a dive, but it was the closest thing to a home the thief had.
There was an empty plate before him that had held the crusty leftovers of a roast and a half mug of stale mead before him. Jenna, one of Retik's serving girls, had brought it to him unbidden. The roast had been a bit on the tough side, but Aulric had eaten far worse in his days. The mead, on the other hand, as good as it was, only brought the memory of Amburgey's silver decanter and its heavenly sweet aroma back to his mind. It was heady and he could almost imagine the fields of wildflowers and clover where the bees had harvested the nectar. This mead, however, was no more than that sensation's decaying corpse. The scent alone had spoiled him! But, complaining was ill luck, and free was free. He had only come for a safe place to look at the note. All the rest was good fortune.
The place was indeed as safe as anywhere Aulric could find in Loria, with fewer questions asked nowhere else. It was there that he examined the note the girl had pushed upon him. Sloppy columns of numbers were scraped over one side of the sheet, with runs and smudges abounding. Probably a ledger or some such. The other side held clean-lined, flourishing calligraphy. It was beautiful and elegant, without a single smudge or scratch on the parchment.
"The note explains everything, does it?" He muttered wryly to the parchment. "Nice of you to assume I can read worth a damn."
Aulric wasn't completely illiterate, but the dressing of 'speech' in the note was unfamiliar. For his part, the young thief was clever and had more grasp of language than most of his peers, but he had never had access to formal education, past what the hedge wizard, Elton Fend, had beaten into his skull. Add to his lack of schooling that the characters of the more academic, erudite calligraphy were unrecognizable to him, and he would be forced to see that venerable and slightly unbalanced mystic for a translation.
He had depended only upon himself for so long, that not being able to accomplish a goal on his own set his teeth to grinding. Aulric rose from his seat, pushing away the plate. He slipped the note once again in his pocket, and finished off the mead.
Jenna lounged near the bar, propped on one of the thirteen stools. She was staring at Aulric, a small, impish smile playing across her rose-petal lips. He had always wondered if those lips were as soft as they looked. As he brought his eyes to bear on her, the serving girl slowly turned away, one hand idly toying with her long, chestnut hair. Aulric furrowed his brow. This wasn't the first time that very thing had happened, and it confused him every time. Her eyes flashed at him once more, from under her lashes, a quick, sidelong glance. The eye contact went on for an uncomfortably warm second, and she looked away again.
A tingle went through Aulric that made his breath catch and his step falter. He stood up straight, tilting his head to regard Jenna properly, who only speared him with another sidelong glance. All the while, she twirled that lock of hair. He looked at Retik, who held his face in a wry smirk, leaning against a keg behind the bar. Aulric furrowed his brow in confusion.
Retik chuckled at Aulric, shaking his head, and glanced at Jenna. She spread her arms in a helpless gesture and looked, flabbergasted, at the publican for some reason.
The young thief felt he was missing something of some import as he shook his head and went for the door. He heard Retik laugh once more.
"Don't take it so hard, Jenna," Aulric heard him say. "He'll figure it out soon enough. It may not look like it now, but he's a bright kid."
The young thief walked out of the dimness of The Waterside into the bright, slanting rays of late afternoon, blinking, that feeling that he had missed something worrying his brain like a dog with a bone. He trudged along, wondering, until it hit him. His steps slowed to a standstill on the boardwalk.
Was she flirting with me?
He bounced the heel of his palm off his forehead in exasperation.
He turned, looking back at the facade of the inn. Retik was leaning out of the doorway, drying his hands on his towel, smiling a knowing smile. He met Aulric's eyes and chuckled.
"Now he gets it," he called out, loud enough for Aulric to hear.
This was not by design, and no advantage would be gained from it.
Aulric,
