They turned back to the inn.
The White Bear was a two-storied timber structure on the corner of the main road through Whitchurch and a smaller roadthat ran parallel to the church. The road around it was full of mud puddles and dirty banks of snow, and Caius had to lift Emelisse over the filthy snowbanks in order to get her to the front door. She was wearing Lady de Wrenville’s traveling dress, which was too long, and already the bottom of it, in spite of her best efforts, was wet and dirty.
Caius opened the heavy, beaten door and the world of The White Bear appeared. It was warm and stale and crowded, packed with patrons in the enormous common room, which had a sunken middle that didn’t have any tables or chairs. People were simply gathering in the middle of it, eating food from their hands or downing their drinks. Some were even sitting on the floor.
On the perimeter of the common room, however, it was raised and the floor was wood. There were tables and chairs on this level and every single one of them was crowded. Because of the inclement weather the night before, and the icy temperatures this morning, People didn’t seem to want to leave the warm, stuffy chamber.
Caius stood at the entry and inspected the layout of the room. He held on to Emelisse tightly, as an inn like this, especially in bad weather, tended to draw all sorts of unsavory characters. He was fairly certain there were pickpockets and thieves among the patrons, which meant he would have to keep close watch on his possessions and his wife.
He didn’t want to lose either.
His wife.God’s Bones, it felt odd to even think such a thing. But in looking at Emelisse, he’d never felt such a thrill in his life.
She belonged to him.
But he had come here for a purpose and it wasn’t to daydream over the lovely creature he had married. He had a marriage to consummate and he intended to do it immediately. As he studied the general layout of the inn, he could seethat there were private rooms to the rear of the structure. He could see people entering and exiting the smaller rooms that had curtains in their doorways for privacy. Armed with that knowledge, he went on the hunt for the innkeeper.
Since the inn was so crowded, it took a few moments for him to hunt down a serving wench. He told the women what he needed and once she had deposited her load of drink to the nearest table, she disappeared into the back of the establishment where the kitchens were. In little time, a big, barrel-chested man dressed in surprisingly fine clothing emerged from the kitchens. The serving wench was standing beside him and she pointed to Caius. The innkeeper headed straight for him.
“What is thy wish, my lord?” the man asked, wiping his hands on his apron.
“A private room for my wife and me to share our meal,” Caius said. “We also require one of your best sleeping chambers. I am willing to pay better than anyone else in this establishment, so think carefully on your answer.”
The innkeeper frowned as if immediately insulted, but when Caius produced a good many coins, the man shut his mouth.
“I can offer you a fine chamber upstairs,” he said. “It has its own area to dine in, plus a comfortable bed. Are you opposed to eating and sleeping in the same chamber?”
Caius shook his head. “That is preferable.”
“Good,” the man said, greedily taking the coins Caius gave him. “Give me a few moments to have the wench sweep the chamber and then I shall have her take you to it. Meanwhile, sit. I shall bring you the finest wine I have while you wait. No cost, my lord.”
Emelisse quickly tugged on Caius and when he leaned down, she whispered in his ear. Nodding, he relayed the request to the innkeeper.
“My wife does not tolerate wine very well,” he said. “Do you have anything else she can drink that does not involve ale or wine?”
The man nodded, looking to the lady and offering a yellow-toothed smile. “I do,” he said. “Nectar for the gods. Sit, please. I shall return.”
There happened to be a small table and one vacant seat behind them, which was what the innkeeper had been indicating. As the round man ran off towards the rear of the establishment, Caius held out the chair for Emelisse. As she sat, he looked around for another chair and, noticing a few men seated at the table next to them, he yanked one of the chairs out from underneath the nearest man, who plopped onto the floor. When the man jumped up and turned threateningly to him, fists balled, Caius simply puffed up to his full height and the man, and his friends, wisely backed down. No one wanted to tangle with an enormous, fully-armed knight.
Victorious, Caius grinned as he pulled the chair up next to Emelisse.
“There,” he said. “Now we can sit together.”
She grinned at him as he wedged his big body next to her, very close. “Do you always do that?”
“Do what?”
“Steal chairs and silently dare men to fight you?”
He laughed softly. “Of course I do,” he said. “God gave me this size for a reason.”
“To frighten people?”
“Absolutely.”
He said it with both conviction and humor, and she snorted. “What else am I going to discover about you in the days and months to come?” she asked. “Do you raid small villages and steal puppies from children? Do you push nuns into the mud and steal their sacramental wine?”
He was laughing deeply by now. He enjoyed a woman with a sense of humor, which was something he’d not really seen from her. Given the turmoil of their association, he wasn’t surprised, but he liked what he saw now.
