Page 36 of Sorcery, Swords & Scones (Tales from the Tavern #2)

Thirty-Six

Sass blinked at Val in disbelief. Maybe lack of sleep had made her delusional. “You’re what?”

“I’m coming with you.” Val widened her stance as if daring Sass to pass. “You’re going to do something incredibly foolhardy, right?” When Sass didn’t answer, Val nodded. “Well, I’m coming too.”

Sass huffed out an exasperated breath. "Fine.” She folded her arms over her chest in a gesture that was equal parts defensive and defeated. "I was planning to sneak to the dwarf campsite and try to negotiate with Florin."

Val raised one eyebrow but didn't look particularly surprised by this revelation. "I figured as much. You got a look in your eyes last night when Erindil mentioned that the dwarves took his campsite. Like you were going to do something incredibly foolish.”

"It's not foolish,” Sass protested, then immediately winced.

"Well, not entirely foolish. Look, Val, I know Florin better than anyone else here.

I understand how her mind works, what she values, what might persuade her to leave Wayside alone.

" She drummed her fingers on her arms. “If I can present myself voluntarily, offer to return the amulet, and give some explanation of why I left, then she won’t tear the village apart looking for me and she might not insist on retribution against my clan.”

Val considered this, nodding thoughtfully. “That's actually not a terrible plan, but I still can't let you go alone."

"Val—"

"No, hear me out." Val held up one hand to forestall Sass's protests.

"You're right that going alone might put you in a better negotiating position.

But what happens if Florin decides she doesn't want to negotiate?

What if she's more interested in making an example of you than she is in recovering her amulet?”

Sass’s stomach clenched at the thought, but she forced herself to keep her voice steady.

"That's a risk I have to take. And that's exactly why I want to go alone. If Florin gets even a whiff of how much I care about this place, about the people here, about…” She left the word unspoken but held Val’s gaze until the guard touched her arm gently.

"She'll use it against me. She'll threaten Wayside, threaten my friends, you, anything to get what she wants. "

"I've considered that," Val said. "Which is why I'll go as your bodyguard." She gestured to her quilted guard uniform, the leather armor that marked her as a member of the local laird’s defense. "I'm dressed for the part, after all."

Sass opened her mouth to argue further, but Val's reasoning made sense. Florin would respect her coming with a guard. It wouldn't signal personal attachment so much as prudent caution.

"Aye, all right.” The relief that flooded through her at the thought of not facing Florin completely alone surprised Sass. "But you have to promise me something, Val. When we're there, you can't let on that there's anything between us. Not even that we're friends. Be completely detached.”

Val bobbled her head. “Then maybe you shouldn’t have kissed me like you did last night.”

Sass’s jaw dropped. “Me? What about the way you…” She stopped when she noticed Val’s wicked grin and realized the wo man was teasing her. She sighed. “If this doesn’t work, this could be the last time I ever kiss you.”

The playfulness immediately drained from Val's expression, and she bent down so that their faces were even. She cupped Sass’s jaw in one hand, tipping the dwarf’s face up so that their quick breaths mingled. “That would be a true crime.”

Sass lost the ability to breathe as Val held her gaze, finally feathering her lips across the dwarf’s slightly agape mouth so briefly that Sass was sure she’d imagined it.

Then Val straightened and snapped her heels together. “I promise to keep it completely professional. No one will suspect a thing.”

Sass wasn’t sure if either of them could manage that, but it would have to do. Val pivoted so she could fall in step with Sass as they headed away from the tavern, throwing waves to Rosie.

The gnome sat on the back step of the brandy wagon, polishing a red apple to a high shine with the corner of her apron and giving no indication that she’d witnessed anything.

She waved back cheerfully, apparently unbothered by the early hour or the loud snores coming from inside the wagon. "Mind how you go, girls.”

As they walked through the village, Sass thought about how different Wayside looked in the aftermath of the Harvest Festival. The orange and gold pennant streamers that had draped between the storefronts still hung across the main road, but they were now sagging and gap-toothed.

Apple cores and scraps of paper littered the dirt road along with the odd lost hair ribbon or dropped coin. It wasn't messy so much as well-used, like the tavern after a busy night.

Fenni was already at work in front of his cheese shop, vigorously sweeping the walk with a bristle broom. Despite the early hour and the late end to the festival, his hair was primly combed to one side, and the apron tied around his tweed three-piece suit was spotless .

"Morning, ladies!" he called out cheerfully as they passed, pausing in his sweeping to lean on his broom handle. "There's nothing like fresh air and exercise to clear the head after a proper celebration."

"I couldn’t agree with you more,” Val said.

It took all of Sass's self-control not to wander toward Pip's bakery as they passed, and she tipped her nose into the air in anticipation of catching a citrus sugar breeze.

But even the usually bustling bakery was quiet this morning, the glass door closed and only a faint glow that suggested Pip was preparing for the day's baking without the energy to open the front door or welcome customers just yet.

Tin's haberdashery shop wasn't open either, its colorful window display of ribbons and buttons and fine fabrics looking somehow forlorn without the gnome bustling around inside.

They reached the town square with its weathered stone pillar, glanced at the empty market stalls that had been so busy the night before, and then cut across toward the woods that bordered the village on the eastern side.

The morning sunlight, which had been bright in the village, became dappled and suffused as they crossed the tree line.

Ancient oaks and towering pines filtered the light through their branches, creating a mosaic of golden patches on the forest floor.

The air smelled of damp earth and decomposing leaves, moss and wild herbs, with the faint underlying scent of wood smoke that suggested there was a camp not too far away.

Their footsteps made satisfying crunching sounds as they walked through the carpet of fallen leaves, and Sass marveled at the hush.

For a band of well-armed dwarves, they were remarkably silent.

No booming voices echoed off the trees, no hiss of axe blades being sharpened on stone, and no clang of ladle against cauldron.

The only indication that they hadn’t fled entirely was the faint prickling of the ring on her finger.

“They must be hiding well,” she murmured to Val. “Dwarf camps aren’t usually quiet.”

Just as the words left her mouth, the ring burned as if it was on fire, startling Sass so much that she went rigid.

Val's hand had moved instinctively to rest on the pommel of her sword. "Maybe they're?—"

The sentence was cut off abruptly as Sass felt the cold kiss of steel against her throat. A blade—broad and sharp enough that she could feel its edge even though it wasn't quite breaking skin—pressed against the exposed curve of her neck.

Sass slid her eyes sideways enough to see that Val was in an identical predicament, an axe blade pressed against her throat. The tall guardswoman had gone completely still, her palms up in the universal gesture of non-aggression.

"Don't take another step," growled a voice behind her, deep and raspy and unmistakably dwarf.