Louis woke up with a start and trained his ears. It was pitch dark and completely quiet. Then he heard it again, a loud thump as though something had struck the eaves outside. Louis held his breath and listened for any signs that Mister Weaver had heard the sound and was going to investigate. It was warm under the covers, and it was another cold night.
The thump came again, but there was no sign that Mister Weaver had stirred. Reluctantly, Louis climbed out of his covers and put on a jacket before feeling his way to the door. Outside his room, the kitchen was eerily illuminated by moonlight that streamed in through the windows, casting long shadows on the floor. Louis jumped when he heard something skitter along the table. Once his brain started working, he cursed. It appeared that the mouse problem hadn’t been dealt with after all.
He looked outside with distaste, knowing that if it was this cold indoors, it was going to be downright freezing outside. The knock came again, causing Louis to jump. He considered going upstairs to rouse Mr Weaver so that they could investigate the sound together but thought better of it. He slapped himself on the cheeks to help gather his courage.
“Come on, Louis, don’t be a chicken!” his voice was like a clap of thunder in the silent kitchen.
Feeling much braver now, Louis unlocked the kitchen door and marched out into the ankle deep snow, dearly wishing he had more on his feet than a pair of house slippers. There was a full moon out and it was a clear night which afforded the boy a clear view of the roof from ground level. As the wind blew, he saw a roof tile lift up before falling back into place with a loud thud. So that was it. It must have come loose under the snow and when he cleared the roof the day before, it was free to knock about.
Clearing the roof reminded him of Nathan. It had been two weeks since he saw Nathan and Franklin coming out of the woods, each with a deer around their shoulders chatting like old friends and he idly wondered what his boss’ old friend. No, he corrected himself, how his old acquaintance was doing, and wondered if he made it down the mountain safely. Then, a tingling in his toes told him that he was woefully underdressed for the weather, and he began hurrying back inside. Fixing the tile would have to wait for morning even though the sound would drive him mad through the night.
He was almost inside when a shadow passed over him. He looked up and blinked. Something was flying overhead, silhouetted by the moon. Louis initially thought it was a bird, but he quickly realized that it was flying high overhead, which meant it had to be huge.
Confused, he continued to stare at it, wondering if this was all a dream or a figment of his sleep addled imagination. Whatever it was abruptly wheeled away and disappeared behind a building. Louis searched the sky, waiting for it to reappear until he could bear the cold no longer and ran back inside.
“Louis is that you?” came Winston’s voice as Louis closed the door behind him.
“Yes, I was just investigating that thumping noise,” Louis replied as he shook the snow off his jacket.
“Oh, it’s a loose tile,” Winston called from the stairs. “I was meaning to tell you about it earlier, but it must have slipped my mind.”
“Yes, I know, I’ll take care of it in the morning,” Louis replied. He thought about telling Winston about the strange bird he saw but thought better of it. He probably just imagined it.
Louis quickly climbed back under his covers and was pleased to see that it was still warm. However, the sound of the loose tile and the memory of the bird he saw would ensure that sleep would elude him. After a few hours, he heard Winston pottering about in the kitchen and decided to give up on trying to fall asleep.
By the time evening came around, Louis was thoroughly exhausted. He had spent most of the afternoon finding and nailing down loose tiles, counting twelve in all. If nothing else, he would sleep soundly that night. The mouse would have to wait for another day.
“It looks like our first guests of the evening are arriving,” Louis remarked as he saw a pair of silhouettes approach the door.
Winston looked at the clock and frowned. “It’s a little early…”
When the door opened, the wiry landlord went pale. Louis’ jaw went slack as a woman and a short, bronze skinned man appeared at the threshold. They were obviously outsiders, but how? The only road up the mountain was snowed in. Perhaps they had used the trails Nathan had mentioned, but they didn’t look much like outdoorspeople. Besides, the man’s clothes were pristine, looking like they had been freshly washed and pressed.
“No, not here,” Winston barked sharply.
Louis watched in shock as the landlord moved with catlike grace from the bar to the doorway, blocking the two newcomers from entering. Winston’s eyes were locked onto the bronze skinned man, and a vein had popped in his forehead.
“Why are you here?” Winston’s voice was low, but there was the slightest hint of fury in it, which made Louis freeze in place. It was something he had never heard in his boss’ voice before.
The bronze skinned man opened his mouth as if to speak, but Winston held up a hand and he glanced at Louis as though noticing him for the first time and his tone changed abruptly.
“No, not in here… not in front of him,” he pleaded.
The man closed his mouth and glanced at the woman. There was a streak of white in her curly black hair that peeped out from under her hooded cloak. She spoke with a rough peasant accent. “We haven’t decided why we are here yet. That is up to you.”
This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.
Winston paused. His hands trembled as he tugged on his waistcoat and Louis could see his Adam’s apple bob up and down before he spoke. “I’m sorry, we got off to a bad start. Welcome to the Happily Ever After Inn. How can I help you?”
“Happily ever after,” the woman sneered. “Do you think that is what you deserve?”
Winston’s face twitched. “No, I suppose not.”
“Then we are in agreement,” the woman agreed bluntly. She stopped when she heard voices approaching. It was Greg and Roger in the middle of one of their boisterous conversations.
“Why don’t you have a seat?” Winston pleaded. He paused and blinked as he looked at the bronze skinned man. “I’m sorry, I’m afraid I don’t have chairs that can accommodate your… you…”
The bronze skinned man leaned in close to the woman and whispered something. A moment later, she said, “He says he’ll manage.”
“Then please, come with me.”
The floorboards groaned as the man stepped past the threshold, and he and Winston exchanged looks. The man gestured for Winston to continue and after a brief pause, he led them to a quiet corner and pulled out two chairs. Louis and Winston watched with bated breath as the man lowered himself into one of the chairs. Then, nothing happened. However, upon closer inspection, the boy could see that the man was only pretending to sit but was holding his rear end ever so slightly above the seat.
“I’ll fetch you some drinks,” Winston said. “Is there anything in particular that you’d like?”
The pair shook their heads and Winston walked back to the bar with his usual grace.
“Is he going to last the whole night hovering over the chair?” Louis asked in a hush whisper.
“He will,” Winston replied as he cast a glance at the pair.
“Good evening, Winston, Louis!” Greg bellowed from the door.
“Good evening, Greg, Roger,” Winston called back.
“Hello hello, what’s this?” Greg said in a hushed voice as they walked up to the bar, “Outsiders? And a lady at that?”
“And her friend’s from the Central Kingdoms from the look of it,” Roger exclaimed, equally excited. “Does this mean the road’s open?”
“I doubt that,” Greg remarked. “We got more snow last night.”
“So what’s their story anyway, Winston?” Roger asked.
“Your guess is as good as mine,” Winston shrugged. “They asked to be left alone, so I didn’t ask any questions.”
“Do you think they’d mind if I did?” Roger ventured.
“I wouldn’t recommend it,” Winston said uneasily as he approached the pair. “They seem like they want to be left alone.”
Greg lowered his voice and leaned in closer to the others. “Maybe they’re bandits, eh? Here to scout the place out, see what’s worth stealing.”
Winston raised an eyebrow. “I struggle to think of anything worth stealing out here.”
“They could be after your liquor collection, eh?” Greg continued. “Maybe old Carson let slip just how valuable it is to someone in Estos.”
“That could be it,” Roger remarked. His face was completely serious, and he looked Winston straight in the eye. “All your finest stuff, I say you let us drink it. For free. Tonight. Then they’ll have nothing to steal.”
“He has a point you know,” Greg said, equally seriously. “I know you have a lot, but I think that if we summon all the boys, we’ll be able to finish the job, then you won’t have to worry about being robbed.”
“What do you say?” Roger asked.
Winston raised an eyebrow and sighed. “Gentlemen, I appreciate your kind offer, but I think I’ll take my chances with the bandits.”
Greg and Roger broke into broad smiles and the brewer let off a laugh. “It was worth a try, eh?”
The inn soon filled up, but the mood was muted owing to the presence of the two strangers, who at Winston’s insistence, no one had spoken to. By nine o clock, everyone had left save for Ogden and Franklin.
“Say Louis,” the mayor said, beckoning Louis over.
“What is it, Mister Fuller?” Louis asked as he paused his sweeping.
“Is Winston in any trouble?” Ogden asked softly, looking pointedly at the outsiders who had not moved from their seats the whole evening.
“Beats me, Mister Fuller,” Louis shrugged. “Who would have a problem with Mister Weaver, though?”
“Mister Weaver is a pillar of this town,” Ogden said. “If trouble does break out, you let us know and we’ll come running to help.”
Franklin nodded in silent agreement next to him.
Louis swallowed and nodded. “I will, Mister Fuller, don’t you worry.”
“Look after your boss, you hear?” Ogden said and patted Louis on the shoulder. “Goodnight Winston, I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Goodnight Winston,” Franklin echoed.
“Goodnight,” Winston called back absently.
The inn seemed eerily quiet once the pair had left and Louis looked at the pair, willing them to leave as well, hoping never to see them again.
“Louis,” Winston called.
Louis jumped to attention and yelped, “Yes, Mister Weaver?”
“I know it’s cold outside, but could I ask you go for a walk?” Winston asked. “Just for an hour or so.”
Louis looked at him blankly. “I don’t understand…”
“I wish to be left alone with my guests for an hour,” Winston said firmly.
“Oh, I could just clean up in the kitchen,” Louis offered, not wanting to leave his boss alone with the two strangers.
“Please, Louis,” Winston said.
Louis looked up and saw that Winston was dead serious. He wanted to object and stay so he could help in case anything untoward happened, but there was something in his bosses’ eye, the slightest hint of fury that chilled Louis to the bone and ended his resistance. Trying his best to hide his tears, he fled to the kitchen. As he pulled his jacket on, he took a deep breath and remembered what Ogden had said. If he were to run away now, how would he summon help? How would he be able to look anyone in this town in the eye again? No, he couldn’t abandon his boss at a time like this.
Louis walked out of the door and slammed it shut to make sure Winston could hear it in the main room. He then climbed a snowdrift that had been created when he cleared the roof the day before and used it to climb onto the roof. Once there, he padded his way carefully to the window to one of the guest rooms he kept unlocked just in case, and used it to sneak back in.
Once he closed the window, he padded out of the room and across the hallway as quickly as he dared and entered Winston’s room. He then hesitated before taking down the shield that hung over the bed and then walked over to the chest that sat against a corner. He looked at it and licked his lips, knowing that to open it was to break some sort of taboo.
After a brief moment of doubt, he shook his head and cursed himself. His being in this room uninvited was taboo enough, but it would all be for a good cause if it could save his boss' life. He opened the chest and removed the longsword from it and blessed the day he had spied Winston taking it out to look at nostalgically. He resisted the urge to draw it from its leather sheath and hoped it still had an edge to it as he rushed back to the bed and laid down on the floor, clutching both the sword and shield tight. He had the sinking feeling his boss would need them.
It didn’t take long for him to find the gap in the floorboards that offered him a clear view of the main room down below. He saw that the strange pair still had not moved and watched as Winston poured himself a stiff whiskey. He took a long pull before walking over to them with measured steps.
“If you are here to kill me, I will offer no resistance,” he said bluntly. “I ask only that you do it out in the woods and not let my body be found.”
Louis’ heart leapt into his mouth, and he clutched the sword and shield tight as he wondered what he should do.