Shea settled at the table. It was a tight fitwith all of them gathered and two of the men had to eat bybalancing their dishes on their laps.
The inn’s matron bustled out of the kitchen,the swinging door giving a brief glimpse of the large cast iron,wood burning stove and the built in brick oven. It looked homeywith its yellow painted walls and white trim. Herbs hung fromdrying racks and the meal’s makings littered the wooden island.
It didn’t look like the sort of kitchen thatwould produce such substandard food. It looked like the sort ofplace where the woman of the house might spend a lot of time doingsomething she genuinely loved.
Shea murmured a “thank you” as the woman seta pitcher of mead on the table along with several clean cups.
She waited until the woman retreated backinto the kitchen before responding to Dane’s question.
“Nothing concrete.”
“So you wasted the entire afternoon onnonsense?” Paul rolled his eyes.
Shea shrugged. If that’s what he wanted tocall it.
This was the first time she’d had Paul on oneof her trips. It’d be the last time too. He was a large man whoalways seemed like he was sucking on something sour. Nothing amusedhim, but everything seemed to annoy him. He complained the entiretrip to Goodwin of Ria.
Shea had been reduced to making up excusesfor why she had to scout ahead so often. His near constant bitchinghad tempted her to break her oath of never abandoning or causingintentional harm to her charges.
“Useless,” Paul muttered when it became clearShea had no intention of responding.
The table got quiet as all of the men avoidedlooking in her direction. Shea’s fork didn’t pause as shemethodically continued to eat.
At this point, she’d become inured to hisinsults. He’d have to do better than that to get a rise fromher.
Paul turned his attention to new prey.
“How’d it go?” he asked Dane.
Dane shook his head and settled his elbows onthe table. Zrakovi had appointed him the leader for the expedition,and recently he’d earned nearly as much hostility from Paul asShea.
Normally James was the diplomat on these typeof trips, but the elders had kept him back and sent Dane instead.She thought it might have something to do with Edgecomb.
“It didn’t,” Dane said before taking a biteof his roll. “We got the runaround all afternoon. Same as yesterdayand the day before.”
There was a large sigh around the table asthey realized they were stuck in Goodwin for another night.
Nobody wanted this.
Paul didn’t take the news well. He lookedlike someone had spat in his food and then told him to eat it. Hesat back, folding his thick arms across his chest as he glared downthe table.
In the beginning, the stalled negotiationshadn’t bothered anybody, but as the days passed and the mood in thetown became more and more tense, the men grew edgy andcombative.
“Something’s happening in the Lowlands.”Witt’s voice was grim.
They nodded. It was growing more and moreobvious that something wasn’t right.
Paul scoffed. “Something is always happeningin the Lowlands. The wind changes direction, and they think thenext cataclysm is upon them.”
“Not like this,” Shea inserted. “There’s talkof Edgecomb.”
Dane’s eyes shot to her as she carefullyplaced the fork back on her plate. He knew she suspected the menthey rescued had been Trateri. The elders had ridiculed hersuspicions, and even the guild had expressed doubt when she sent amissive recounting the events of last fall.
Everybody agreed it was probably one of thebandit groups that occasionally claimed the Badlands as home. Sheahadn’t been convinced. She still wasn’t.
Needless to say, the elders tried to placethe blame on Shea for everything that went wrong. To her surprise,James stood up for her and even wrote a letter to her guildexplaining his part in the events.
The village elders had gotten a slap on thewrist and a warning to start abiding by the contract or else losetheir pathfinder.
