Page 49

The road they’d been following along the river veered left, and before long, it was lined with an assortment of thatched-roofed stone buildings. Signs hung above a few of the doors. It was too dark to see them clearly, but Leif guessed that they marked the tref’s business establishments.

“Keep a watch out for an inn,” Leif said.

“Over there.” Knud gestured to his right. “You see it? There looks to be a stable at its rear.”

The building appeared a little larger than its neighbors, and a chink of pale light shone through the shutters of the closest window.

“I will try the door,” Leif said, dismounting and handing Knud his reins. “Wait here.”

He crossed the short distance to the door and knocked. Footsteps sounded from within, and moments later, the door opened to reveal a burly man with dark hair and beard.

“Good evening to you,” Leif said. “My friend and I just arrived in the tref and are in need of a room.”

The man placed his fists on his ample girth. “No chambers fer you at the castle after all them royal people arrived, eh?”

At Leif’s startled expression, the man chuckled loudly. “Yer welcome. We may not ’ave a servant fer every room ’ere, but I can give ya both a bed and a meal.”

“Our horses?” Leif asked.

“Have yer friend take ’em round back,” the man said. “There’s a lad in the stable who’ll take care of ’em fer ya.”

“I thank you,” Leif said. Keeping his back to the innkeeper, he moved closer to Knud. “There’s a boy in the stable who will take the horses,” he said softly. “Just hand him the reins and meet me inside. The boy should not need any instructions.”

“I hardly know what to do with a horse anyway,” Knud muttered, but he turned his mount toward the stable, leading Leif’s horse behind him.

Leif turned back to the innkeeper. “He will see to the horses,” he said.

The large man opened the door wider and invited him inside.

“The name’s Elis,” the large man said.

Leif’s thoughts raced. If he offered Elis his real name, he would be all but introducing himself as a Viking. As much as he wished to learn what was happening at the castle, he did not want word that two Norsemen were staying in town to reach the stronghold’s inhabitants.

“Luc,” he said, landing on the simplest name he could conjure up that was not too far distant from Leif. “And my companion is Ned. You’ll find that he does not say much, but he’s a good enough fellow.”

They entered a large room. Three rectangular tables took up most of the space, with an assortment of mismatched chairs and benches alongside each one. Two young men sat at the far table, bowls of pottage before them. On the other side of the room, a fire burned in a wide stone fireplace, and a woman dressed in a serviceable gown stood over a large pot hanging over the flames.

“Good evenin’, sir,” she said, straightening.

“And to you,” Leif replied.

“This ’ere’s Luc,” Elis said. “This is me wife, Lowri. An’ over there’s Rhun an’ Maelon.”

The men at the far table offered Leif cursory nods, and Elis crossed the room to reach for a key hanging from a shelf on the wall.

“Yer chamber is upstairs at the end of the passage,” he said. “Will either of ya be wantin’ any mead or pottage?”

It had been several hours since Leif and Knud had last eaten, and the smell coming from the bubbling pot was making Leif’s stomach growl. “Both would be welcome,” he said.

Elis gave him a curious look. “Where d’you hail from? Nowhere local, I’ll wager.”

“The coast,” Leif said. “North of here.”

“That’ll do it. They don’t talk quite right up there.”

“What of the people who’ve arrived at the castle,” Leif asked. “Where are they from?”

“Why, it’s Owain Gwynedd himself,” Elis said, taking two wooden bowls off the shelf and handing them to his wife. “Along with more retainers an’ guards than me boy could count. Saw ’em, ’e did. Marchin’ out of the forest and into the castle.”