The Magic of Recluce - L. E. Modesitt [56]
As I placed the pack in the wardrobe, I had to shake my head. The Travelers’ Rest was definitely more than it seemed—the sort of inn that probably only the very well-off could afford. The staff just barely fit inside the wardrobe and only at an angle, but, Isolde’s words to the contrary, I didn’t really want to leave it in plain view. The lorken was cool to my fingers, reassuring me that at least I wasn’t in the presence of overt chaos, although that was scarcely likely with someone such as Isolde leading us.
With a last look around the room, I picked up the key, opened the doorway, and stepped out onto the hall carpeting and almost into Krystal, who was backing out of her room.
“Oh…sorry,” I apologized.
Clank. My key jangled against hers.
We both smiled, more from nervous relief than from humor.
“Rather lovely quarters for us outcasts,” I observed.
“Lovely? I suppose.”
“You don’t think so?” For some reason, I didn’t want to walk away from her.
“Are you going to change what you are because of lovely quarters?” Her voice was both soft and musical, more relaxed than I had heard it.
She had me on that one, and I wondered why I would listen to Krystal, and think about what she said, when if Tamra questioned me I was ready to fight.
“What are you thinking, Lerris?”
“Oh…” I didn’t really want to tell her. “Just…that I can listen to you, even when you raise questions.”
“I’ll take the flattery.” She bestowed a soft smile on me.
Clink. Wrynn stepped from her room into the hallway and looked at us.
“Are you two going to talk forever, or can we get the sermon and have some dinner?” The blond looked at us, then bent over and inserted her key into the room lock.
I decided not to follow Wrynn’s example, since I really doubted that locking the door made any difference in this particular inn.
“Shall we go?” I asked Krystal.
“I suppose we should.” She turned and made her way down the hallway toward the stairs, the sword I had given her still at her belt.
Sammel, Myrten, Dorthae, and Wrynn were already seated at the rectangular table in the small dining room when we arrived. The place at the head of the table had been left for Isolde.
I sat in the vacant chair at the foot of the table. Krystal sat on my left and Myrten on my right. My other choice would have been to the right of Isolde’s chair. I left that for Tamra.
As I pulled out my chair, Isolde, face washed and hair brushed, stepped through the archway from the main dining area. Looking up, I nodded at her, receiving the barest inclination of her head in return. She glanced up one side of the table and down the other side, pausing as she stopped at the empty space left for Tamra.
Almost as if she had been waiting for the notice, the redhead stepped through the archway.
Isolde’s eyes flicked back to the rest of us, without really looking at any of us. “This is the last place where you can freely mention your origin,” began Isolde, her hands resting on the back of the red-oak chair at the end of the table. As when we had left the Eidolon, she wore black, all black. Tunic, trousers, boots, belt, and neck scarf. With the pale skin, she looked like a soldier—or worse. “Once you step outside the walls of this inn, you are subject to local customs, thieves, bandits, and soldiers—to mention the most obvious dangers.
“As a practical matter, the road outside the main gates is generally safe for at least several kays into Candar, except for petty theft and assault, which can happen just about anywhere.”
“Except Recluce…” muttered someone behind me.
“Except Recluce,” affirmed Isolde. “But for various reasons, you have all found Recluce too confining, or Recluce has found you in need of the outside world. It is for that reason that you will travel alone. You made your decisions alone, and you must face the consequences alone, at least until you are ready to make your final decisions. But you all know that.
“First…I promised an update on local conditions. As you discovered earlier, the duke has decided to use his control of the port to attempt