With everyone squeezed inside, the tavern went from cozy and convivial to close and crowded in a matter of seconds.
“So, you know each other?” asked Booth, confusion plain on his face as he gestured from the bard to the newcomers.
Haber frowned and seemed to be debating the merits of politeness versus accuracy. “We, um. Traveled together,” he hedged. “For a while.”
“Just chronicling their adventures,” said Staysha, brimming with enthusiasm Fern thought was false.
“That’s one way of putting it,” muttered the orc, who looked like he wanted to throttle her with the hands that he was keeping very carefully unclenched at his sides.
“You were s’posed to be here ages ago,” cried Finny, who couldn’t be bothered with all of the dithering politeness going on. She stumped over to Haber and glared up at him through her cracked spectacles. “The Oathmaiden’s gone and done your work for you. So, where’s our silver?”
The attention of everyone shifted to Astryx in her throne of blankets. She waved mildly in return.
A hushed conference ensued amongst Haber’s Five, with many glances thrown the elf’s way.
Eventually, Haber emerged once more as their spokesman. He approached Astryx and bowed formally, which the white ferret around his neck was not amused by. “Our thanks, lady. It’s to our shame that you had to face such a threat on your own. You are clearly the equal of the tales that go before you.” He shuffled his feet. “And on a personal note, I’ve admired you since before I was old enough to dress myself.”
Astryx, unlike the ferret, appearedhighlyamused.
Turning back to Finny, Haber continued. “As for your silver, I wish I had better news. It was . . . misplaced.” Here he shot Staysha a dark look that she appeared to studiously ignore. “But we’ll do what we must to see you repaid.”
Then everyone stood around awkwardly and couldn’t figure out what to do with their hands. The rest of Haber’s group started to inch for the door with many nods of deference in Astryx’s direction and daggers stared in Staysha’s.
Zyll was suddenly at Fern’s elbow. “Very inter-lesting,” she mused aloud, with a remarkable amount of discretion. “The bard-a-larding is maybe, how do you say, little shit-faced.”
“I don’t think that’s how we say it,” replied Fern, out of the side of her mouth. “But I think I know what you mean. And I’m going to find out.”
“Hey, hang on a minute.”
Haber turned back to Fern with a quizzical expression. The rest of his crew were already halfway to their horses, which shied and stamped nervously at the smell of the slain verdigaunt sprawled half on the road at the verge of the lamplight.
Fern pulled the door closed firmly behind her and gestured for them both to move farther away. Inside, she could hear Finny stridently arguing with Booth.
When she was sure she was out of earshot, she kept her voice low and said, “I need to know about Staysha. You were too polite or unsure to say something in there, but the looks you gave her could have spoiled milk. My tail isn’t going to untwist until I know why.”
The man glanced back at the door, while his white ferret blinked at Fern. “You’re with One-Ear? And the Sparrow is traveling with you?”
“I guess so. For a little longer anyway.”
“Everything all right, Haber?” called the orc, who had stopped to peer at them through the gloom.
“Fine!” Then, to Fern, “You don’t know me, but I’m not the sort to speak ill. Tends to kick back and catch you in the face. And we can’t prove anything, but . . .”
“I’m not a Gatewarden,” said Fern impatiently. “You don’t have to hedge.”
“We didn’t ‘misplace’ the silver. It’s gone, though.” He sighed. “Here’s the thing. Staysha rode along with us for a few weeks—gathering material, she said. It’s not a bad idea for an outfit like ours to have a few tales told or songs sung about them, even if it can be a bit embarrassing. Well,usuallynot a bad idea.
“Seems the Silver Sparrow may have taken too much artistic license in our case and given folks the impression we did some things we definitely didn’t. Jance Half-Hand wasn’t too happy to discover she was givinguscredit forhiswork. She vanished just as he came calling, and wouldn’t you know it,” he jerked a thumb back at the tavern, “the purse these folks sent as advance payment disappeared right about the same time. We’ve been struggling to navigate the whole mess, which cost us most of the silver we had left and a big slice of reputation.”
“Shit-faced,” muttered Fern.
“Huh?”
The ferret hissed from his shoulder.
“Nothing. Thanks for telling me.”
“Even if it does mean we owe these folks, make sure the Oathmaiden knows we’re grateful, and she has our respect.” He nodded at the bulk of the verdigaunt. “Not many I know could tackle such a beast alone.”
