They gathered around a worn wooden table; Vatis sat with his back to the door while Taldor buttered bread in the seat across from him. Vidmar sat next to the boy, chewing his thumbnail, and Hobb drifted from the table to the stone hearth.
Vatis tried to focus, but his thoughts returned to the previous night's attack. He tried to play a simple traveler earlier in the square. He called the character Jon. A plain name for an ordinary traveler, he thought. He wandered through the square as Jon, trying to talk to merchants and avoiding the carts that looked like Zidane's. I can't believe I was so naive. They almost killed me. A loud pop in the fire snapped Vatis out of his reverie.
"What did you do to get under Acer's skin?" Hobb asked, returning to the table.
Vidmar shifted in his chair. "Well, see, that's a long story."
"I'm not going anywhere."
"Me either," Taldor said excitedly.
Vidmar ran his finger around the rim of a mug. "I don't know where to start."
"The beginning usually works best," Vatis said, trying to sort through the wave of emotions in his body. A story will distract me, and I'll learn more about Vidmar too. If his brain and gut weren't reenacting the fight in the woods, Vatis would have been ecstatic. But, instead, he settled for interested and pulled out his writing supplies.
"What's that for?" Vidmar said, glaring at Vatis.
"Notes," Vatis said.
Vidmar huffed but didn't object, so Vatis readied his quill for a story.
"Why are you taking notes?" Taldor asked.
"I'm collecting Vidmar's story. He's quite interesting," Vatis said, testing the quill on his hand.
The answer seemed to satisfy the boy, but Hobb looked at Vatis with uncomfortable scrutiny. Vatis avoided the old man's gaze by examining his surroundings: wood burnt orange in the fireplace. A steady thump bounced off the wood floor as the dog overaggressively scratched one ear. The smell of sweat, dirt, and pine hung in the small room like a fog.
Vatis watched Vidmar take a long drink of a strong juniper spirit, the only alcohol Hobb had. The farmer said it was typically used to sterilize wounds. Vidmar's eyes glistened as he swallowed loudly. "I know I'm not up to your story-telling standards, but I will try my best. Damn, this stuff is strong," Vidmar said, coughing. "So, I was born in a burrow of Haran. My Pa raised..."
Good information, but unnecessary. Vatis interrupted. "Maybe skip ahead a few years to your involvement with this Acer fellow."
"You said start at the beginning, but very well, I met Acer in," Vidmar paused. "Well, how old are you, Taldor?"
"I'm twelve. Why?" The boy looked every bit of twelve. Acne sprouted haphazardly up his neck onto his cheeks. Dirt clung to his wavy brown hair, and his voice cracked each time he got excited.
"Now see, this might cast a poor light on me," Vidmar started.
"I know about whore houses...' Taldor said as his voice cracked again while his cheeks developed a bright pink hue. "Ev told me about them."
Vidmar laughed. "No, no, nothing like that. I met Acer in a... tavern in Haran. I was playing King, Calvary, and Army and doing well; when Acer approached our table," he paused and scratched his chin.
"What's King, Calvary, and Army?" Taldor asked.
"Don't interrupt, boy," Hobb said. He dismissed the boy and glared at Vatis while he took notes.
YOU ARE READING
Tales & Treasure
FantasyA disgraced bard emerges from years of isolation, vowing to find the story that will restore his name and bring him the recognition that he desperately craves.
