Sianim 01 - Masques

floor—because the only thing left to do at the inn was drink, and the alcohol that they served was none of the best and quite probably mildly poisonous judging by the state of the poor fools who drank it.
    As the newest barmaid, the task of cleaning up fell to Aralorn. With the tools she’d been handed, this consisted mostly of moving the mess around until it blended with the rest of the grime on the floor. The lye in the water ate at the skin on her hands almost as badly as the smell of the inn ate at her nose.
    She dipped the foul-smelling mop into the fouler-smelling water in her bucket and occupied herself with the thought of what she would do to Ren the next time she saw him. As she was scrubbing—humming a merry accompaniment to her thoughts, a sudden hush fell into the room.
    Aralorn looked up to see the cause of the unusual quiet. Against the grime and darkness of the inn, the brilliant clothing of the two men in court attire was more than a little incongruous.
    Not nobles surely, but pages or messengers from the royal court. They were usually used to run messages from the court to a noble’s estate. What they were doing at this little pedestrian inn was anyone’s guess. Unobtrusively, Aralorn worked her way to a better observation post and watched the proceedings carefully.
    One of the messengers stayed near the door. The other walked to the center of the room. He spoke slowly so that his strange court accent wouldn’t keep the northerners from understanding his memorized message.
    “Greetings, people. We bring you tragic news. Two weeks ago—Myr, your king, overset by the deaths of his parents, attacked and killed several of his own palace guard. Overwrought by what he had done, His Majesty seized a horse and left the royal castle. Geoffrey ae’Magi has consented to the Assembly’s request to accept the Regency of Reth until such time as King Myr is found and restored to his senses. The ae’Magi has asked that the people of Reth look for their king so that a cure may be effected. As he is not right in his mind, it may, regrettably, be necessary to restrain the king by force. As this is a crime punishable by death, the Regent has issued a pardon. If the king can be brought to the ae’Magi, there is every possibility that he can be cured. As loyal subjects, it is your duty to find Myr.
    “It is understood that a journey to the royal castle will be a financial hardship, thus you will have just recompense for your service to your king. A thousand marks will be paid to the party that brings King Myr to the capital or restrains him and sends a message to the court. I have been authorized to repeat this message to the citizens of Reth by the Regent, Geoffrey ae’Magi.” He repeated his message twice, word for word each time, then he bowed and left the inn with his companion.
    A thousand marks was more than a farmer or innkeeper would make in a lifetime of hard work. Recompense, my aching rump, thought Aralorn, it was merely a legal way to put a bounty on Myr’s head.
    Wandering between tables, she caught bits and pieces of conversation and found that most people seemed to feel the ae’Magi had done them a great service by taking the throne. They didn’t all agree on what ought to be done for the king. She heard an old farmer announce that everything should be done to see that Myr was captured and taken to be cured, poor lad. He was answered by agreeable muttering from his table.
    Olin, the tanner from Torin (and more than slightly drunk), spoke up loudly. “Anyone who cares about Reth should kill Myr and ask for Geoffrey ae’Magi to take the kingship of us. Who needs a king what is going to attack his own folk out of the blue like that? Just think what’d be like havin’ the Archmage for a king. We’d not worry ’bout those Darranians, who’re claiming our mines over in the west borderlands.” He paused to belch. “’N with the most powerful magician in the world, we could even drive those Uriah spooks outta the wilds. We could claim the Northlands altogether. Then we could be rich again.”
    The patrons of the inn shifted uncomfortably and chose another topic to speak on; but they didn’t disagree with what he’d said.
    Proof, if she’d needed it, that what Wolf had warned her of was actually taking place. The whole of Reth had adored their handsome prince, who was promising both as a warrior and a statesman—and it didn’t hurt that he was the spitting image of his grandfather,