3The women's busily scrubbing arm stopped, but she did not seem otherwise surprised. She gave a sideways glance at the Randall and Fennick, then leaned in closer to Thorn. "That's jes' a local myth," she told him. "'s prolly no' even true that there be any real dragons."
Thorn hesitated a moment, his stern face open as he considered his options. "There are real dragons, m'am," he said finally. "I'm a expert on the creatures, and the local lore brought me and my men to this town. Please tell me what you know."
"Tha's an intressing way o' puttin' that," the woman said, smiling with bright white teeth that contrasted to her darker skin. "Ya gotten the feel of a prince ta ya, ya do," she added elliptically.
Thorn stiffened, and Bayolin's hawklike eyes narrowed tensely.
Jonathan frowned in confusion at the two older men's sudden wariness and leaned over to Kendel. "What did she mean?"
The blonde tipped his elegant head toward Jonathan, keeping his blue eyes focused on the bar. "Thorn has the very rare gift of draki-spake," he muttered quietly. "People who have this are called dragon-princes, and somehow this woman could sense it within him. How, though, I don't know."
"And you, m'am, must have some way of knowing that," Thorn said finally, rubbing his hand against the sandpaper of his unshaven face, looking at the woman shrewdly. His lips quirked up in a very small smile as something passed between him and this strange woman, and he shrugged as if the subject was no longer interesting. "My men are thirsty and hungry."
The woman nodded, at ease once more. She pulled two thick pints of creamy lager for Randall and Fennick, then headed into a back room- presumably the kitchen.
"What was that all about?" Randall asked, pitching his voice low. He sipped appreciatively at his drink, sighing in exaggerated happiness.
"Don't worry about it," came Thorn's firm answer. He was still smiling, and taking this as a good sign, Randall shrugged and set about drowning himself in golden foamy liquid.
Not long after Randall finished draining his mug, the proprietor and a younger woman can out, holding study wooden platters of steaming food and drink, which they set before the hungry men.
"Kasha, woul' ya take care o' these gennelmen?" The older woman pushed the girl behind the bar, and gestured to Thorn. He stood and followed her through a set of wide swinging doors, and his Knights watched with raised brows before plowing into the food. Thorn's business was his own.
Fennick and Randall grinned at each other, nodding toward Kasha, then turned their good humor to her.
"So there, darlin," it was Randall that started, "mayhap my drinking partner and I could have another mug of this delicious lager and talk to you for a spell."
Fennick's ears were once more up and leaning curiously forward, his green eyes gleaming mischievously. His gaze swept over the girls lean, willowy form, taking in her bright patchwork skirt and white peasant's blouse with a look of amusement. He smirked, revealing pointed, elongated canine teeth, then licked his lips hungrily. "Yes, we're very interested in getting to know the townspeople," he added.
Kasha raised a dark brow at their flirtations, but poured them their drinks. She gave them an odd look before leaning against the back wall. "Ya'll don' see like a type I woul' wanna know," she said depreciatingly, then glanced at the others sitting at the table, her eyes lingering on Kendel briefly.
Fennick followed her gaze and snorted laughter into his mug.
Falcon rolled his eyes and growled, slicing at the roast chicken with a black, wicked-looking dagger and shoving it quickly into his fanged mouth. His face crumpled into its usual scowl of disgust as he glared across the table at Kendel, as if his brother's misbehavior could all be blamed on the beautiful blonde warrior.
Jonathan just kept his eyes on his plate, trying to avoid getting mixed up in Randall and Fennick's mischief or catching Falcon's surly attention. He leaned his forehead on his cupped hand, shielding his expression effectively and hoping Thorn returned soon.
Bayolin tucked his food away like the experienced veteran he was, eating swiftly and heartily, not seeming to mind any of the chaos that was beginning to break out around him.
Kendel toyed with the mushrooms on his plate, sighing heavily. He had seen young Kasha's interested glance, and wished dearly he could escape before all hell broke loose. He closed his eyes and concentrated on his faith and the 14 katei he was supposed to follow. "I want to go to my room now," he said quietly, standing and dropping his napkin onto his chair. "Good night."
Both Kasha's and Fennick's gaze followed Kendel out of the room, the former looking on with the hopeless eyes of the young and romantic, the latter in an excited, pleased way. Randall gave his compatriot a nudge and grin. "Mayhap he would like a glass of wine before bed, eh?" the redhead suggested very softly.
Fennick trembled at what Randall was hinting, his tail flicking wildly. "Mayhap," he agreed, feeling suddenly electric with anticipation. "Later." He turned back to the bar and sucked down the rest of his mug in an attempt to steady his nerves. He wiped his mouth with his furry arm and smiled disarmingly at Kasha. "Hey love, 'nother mug?" He waved the glass.
Falcon snarled again.
Thorn came back out through the swinging doors, looking very satisfied. He nodded at Kasha and gestured at the two at the bar, who immediately followed him to the table where the other's sat. Thorn snagged a chair next to Bayolin, gracing his old friend with a rare, open smile. Fennick took Kendel's abandoned seat, and Randall plopped next to Jonathan, patting the young man reassuringly.
"Where's Kendel?" Thorn ran his eyes around the table.
"He got up and left," Falcon answered, raising his lip in a slight sneer. "Said he was going to bed. Funny since we don't know where our rooms are yet."
Fennick raised his eyes to his brother's, a flushed angry look upon his face. His lips parted and quivered, as though he wished to speak, but under Falcon's flinty gaze, he turned away to stare at Thorn.
Thorn simply nodded. "Jonathan, please fill him in later," he requested. He leaned forward. "The woman who owns this place-Shasi- was very helpful. She told me where in the mountains the dragon is rumored to live. He's an ancient wyrm; I've never spoken to one so old as this, so I don't know what will happen. It could be his voice will drive me mad on hearing it. I don't know." Thorn's eyes brightened as if he were excited, not frightened, at this prospect. "It'll take us two days to get there, so we'll ride out tomorrow."
"What was it about that woman, Thorn?" Randall asked, brow furrowed.
"She is a descendant of the wyrm," Thorn explained. "Many generations ago, the dragon frequently assumed humanoid shapes and interacted with people, and, apparently, bred with them. I didn't know this was even possible. But that tiny portion of silver blood allowed her to be able to sense me."
"Interesting," Bayolin muttered, tugging at his beard.
"Yes." Thorn stood up. "Fennick, would you please find Kendel and bring him up to the west corridor to our rooms?"
Fennick nodded eagerly.
"Good. Try not to scare him this time."