“I have a better idea,” said Ragnar.
I looked up. He was back to rubbing his neck again.
“I tried to say this to you earlier,” he said. “You’ve already brewed plenty. No need to brew more when all we have to do is find the missing kegs.”
“And how do you propose we do that?” I asked, folding my arms.
“Simple.” He dealt me a wolfish smile. “We track down the thief and take it all back.”
“Whoever took it is probably halfway to the coast by now, where they’ll grab a ship and sail out of the Isles. We’ll never catch up to them.”
“Nope.” His smile widened. “I did some investigating when mine went missing. No wagons or carts were seen leaving today, which means the kegs can’t have gone far. They’ll be somewhere here in Riverwold, on the festival grounds.”
“Ooh, I like this.” Nilsa bounced on her toes, her bells jingling. “If you catch them quickly enough, they won’t have enough time to drink it all themselves. You could save Yule!”
“Shh,” I whispered. “If we’re going to do this, we can’t let the gossip mill catch wind of it. We have to make sure the thief never sees us coming.”
Nilsa nodded enthusiastically. “You’re right. I’ll keep calm, as best I can, and make very vague inquiries of my guests. To suss them all out, right?”
“Sounds good, Nilsa. Thanks.” Ragnar touched my elbow. Swallowing, I met his gaze. “I’ll meet you here in the morning. We’ll get a start on it then.”
I nodded, my words abandoning me.
“Sleep well.” Giving the hearth and the bard a regretful glance, he vanished out the door.
Nilsa leaned in close as soon as he was out of sight, her forehead dipping to mine. “Are youreallygoing to make him sleep in his wagon again?”
“Oh, stop it,” I whispered.
She waggled her brow at me.
I rolled my eyes. “You’re far too obsessed with romance. Aren’t there more important things to worry about right now?”
“What, ale?” She laughed. “If you believe a few barrels of beer are more important than the deep, life-altering connection between two lonely souls, then I’m afraid you’re more hopeless than a hound without a bone.”
“The only thing that connection does is tie you down.” I pulled back, my heart hammering. “Besides, if I were ever to fall in love, it wouldn’t be with a man like that.”
She gave me a no-nonsense look. “Oh yes. Definitely not him. I mean, he’s only ruggedly handsome, strong enough to toss you around, swooningly confident, and kinder than you think.” She ticked off her list with each finger. “Oh, and he has good taste in food.”
“Sounds like he’s perfect for you, then,” I quipped.
“And leave dear Herold? Never.” She squeezed my hand and tugged me around the counter, bustling the both of us into the back kitchen. To speak of the devil, there they were. Herold hovered around the stove, stirring pots of bean and vegetable stew and frying buttered sliced potatoes. The scent was mouth-watering.
Herold was a dwarf, half an inch taller than their wife. They had a big ginger beard that bounced as they moved, and the bells woven in jingled a merry tune. A leather apron strained against their stocky frame, barely covering the white, stew-stained tunic beneath. Their boots creaked as they shifted my way. When they spotted me hovering in the doorway with their wife, their face broke out into a broad grin.
“Lilia!” they exclaimed, still stirring the stew without missing a beat. “Nilsa said you were here. Glad you could make it again. Save me enough of your ale for a few tankards, eh?”
I winced. “Ah, there’s been an incident with the ale. It’s gone missing.”
Herold dropped the spoon. It collided with the side of the pan, launching a spray of beans onto the wall behind them. It ceremoniously clattered onto the floor. “The ale’s gone missing?!”
“Don’t worry, my love. Lilia is going to sort this out with herfriend,” Nilsa said, patting her partner’s arm. She turned to me. “Now, I wasn’t going to tell you this because he asked me not to, but I think it’s time to spill the beans…” Nilsa giggled to herself, pointing at the bean splatter on the wall.
I folded my arms. “Nilsa, I love you, but that was groan-worthy.”
“I’ll tell you what’s groan-worthy. That man you’re so insistent on keeping at arm’s lengthdidhave a room here. You know what he did when you arrived looking like something the cat dragged in? Well, he said to me, ‘Nilsa, I’d like Lilia to have my room. I run hot, like my ancestors, and so I’m just fine sleeping out in the cold.’ Bet you didn’t know he gave up his room for you, now did ya?”
I blinked.
