The Hob's Bargain

flapping apron drove me into the tavern. I took a clean mug from behind the bar and poured it full of the sweet-smelling mead. Though the tavern itself was empty, I could hear noises from the public room beyond that indicated people were there.
    Peering through the doorway, I saw a couple of the fishermen eating dinner at one of the tables. Engrossed in conversation, they didn’t look up as I wandered in. The only other person in the room was Koret, slumped against the back wall with the remains of whatever he’d been drinking in the glass. From the look of the table, the helpers Melly had commandeered had been drinking with Koret. I don’t know why he hadn’t come himself.
    He looked up and raised his eyebrows when he saw me. I brushed at my clothes somewhat ineffectually, but there really wasn’t much I could do. I sat down opposite him, gingerly, stretching my leg out before drinking the warm mead.
    â€œI heard you rode out after Kith,” he said. His voice slurred slightly. “Not the smartest thing to do.”
    â€œNo,” I agreed, wondering if his surprise was at my survival rather than at seeing me here. Perhaps I ought to be offended.
    â€œKith’s here. Wandel and Albrin, too,” I told him, though he knew, already. “I’m not certain if Albrin’s going to make it. They sent me here to get me out of the way.” There was a spill on the tabletop and I touched it with my finger, pulling the moisture around in odd patterns.
    Koret nodded, but he didn’t look excited. “Live today…die tomorrow or next week like the rest of us. I’m not certain it matters.”
    I narrowed my gaze on him. “Actually, I didn’t go out after Kith—at least not at first.”
    Koret knew how to listen even when he was depressed and half-drunk. He waited patiently, letting the silence linger between us like the caress of old lovers, expectant but not demanding.
    â€œDo you remember what I told you about the thing that attacked me on the mountain this spring? That someone killed it and healed my arm before Kith and Wandel found me?” Deceptive Wandel, sweet-tongued killer. “That the harper and I found an inscription there on the side of the mountain?”
    Koret nodded, straightening a little—though I think it was discomfort rather than interest sparking the move.
    I looked down at the table. “With the raiders controlling Fell Bridge, with Albrin’s people and the manor folk gone, I knew it was only a matter of time before the village died, too.”
    Koret gave me a small smile and sipped his ale. Doubtless, I thought, he’d seen it long before I had. He was experienced in warfare. My bench wobbled as Merewich seated himself beside me. I hadn’t seen him when I’d come in. He topped my mug from Melly’s pitcher.
    â€œSo I went for help.” I looked at the table, wondering how I could get them to believe what had happened when I hardly believed it myself. “I found the hob—or at least a hob.”
    â€œSo what is a hob?” asked Merewich.
    â€œWell”—I considered the matter—“he’s…not what I expected.” I thought of how I trailed behind him, my hand wrapped around his tail, and grinned.
    â€œHow much of this has she had?” Merewich asked Koret.
    â€œRather less than he has,” I said, though I could feel my thoughts clouding pleasantly. Adding mead to no sleep and no food wasn’t an aid to clearheadedness.
    I sat forward and braced my elbows on the table, trying to put the hob into words. “He told me to call him Caefawn. I told him…I don’t remember what I told him. He took me to the manor to show me what he could offer—in return for something the village has that he needs. The raiders were everywhere. He killed some. So did I. But most of them he put to sleep or had chasing a white stag hither and yon.” I took a deep swallow of the mead, feeling the warmth of it seep to my bones. I decided I was more tired than drunk. “He wants to meet with the village elders tomorrow. He said something about a hob’s bargain. I think he wants to help. I think he might be able to.” Certainly I was more tired than drunk. More tired than anything now, with the mead taking the soreness from my knee.
    â€œTomorrow morning?” asked Merewich.
    â€œWhat does the hob want?” asked Koret.
    â€œDon’t