“A courier has arrived, and by the sounds of it, he’s looking for you.”
“Where’s he from?”
“From the Lady of Dimas.”
“The name of a great estate, silly. The Lady is the noblewoman that owns the whole thing, and they do say, is one of the claimants to the dispute that poor dead man come down to see about. She must be ever so rich.”
Celo rose lazily, stretched and dressed. Just the previous night the companions had been wondering where their reward had gone, what with lodgings, extra drinks and the odd thing bought. Now it seemed that another job beckoned.
As Celo made his way out into the guest-only lounge, he wondered if Edric had decided to stay on with Chrysos, the local priest. It would be a shame in a way: Edric had put his own health at risk by insisting on tending the injured the same day they had brought Bella and Quietta back. Waiting for Edric to recover after his efforts had already cost them a couple of days.
For himself and others, it seemed time to move on. Ever since the villagers had heard that Vorel didn’t mind trading with Picts they’d had a real down on him and free food had been kind of hard to angle for. People are funny that way.
There was no-one in the guest lounge save for a trader and the inn’s sutler, talking prices no doubt. They both nodded curtly to the youngster, and he kept moving on to the stairs.
Celo chuckled to himself as he remembered Edric trying on the sturdy leather jerkin that fell spare after the rescue. Talk about unco-ordinated! They might teach lay priests a lot, but they sure didn’t tell them how to move in armor.
There they were, or most of them: lolling about in the common-room sinking a free pint, bragging to each other and trying to sneak a peek down Bella’s bodice. He couldn’t wait to join them!