Kaelin glanced around the room. It was unlikely he would return here. He smiled grimly. It was unlikely he would return anywhere.
Buttoning his coat, he moved downstairs. The drunken officer was asleep, his head resting on the table. Lieutenant Langhorne was stoking the fire. He looked up as Kaelin reappeared.
‘This week’s password is Valhael, Master Ring,’ he said. ‘Should you be stopped mention my name and the password. It should ease your passage.’
‘Thank you, lieutenant. I was thinking of paying my respects to Colonel Ranaud. Are you sure there is nothing I can fetch for you from the barracks?’
‘No – though it is kind of you to offer. I thought you already had your supplies?’
‘The roof has leaked and ruined our salt,’ said Kaelin.
Outside he saw Senlic standing with Rayster beside the wagon. Kaelin offered the old man his hand.
‘Take care, boy,’ said Senlic.
‘You too,’ he replied, climbing to the driving seat. ‘Look after the farm.’ Rayster stepped aboard and sat beside him, just as Senlic dipped his hand in his pocket and produced a small charm which he passed up to Kaelin. It was the head of a bear, in a circle of silver. Kaelin looked into Senlic’s eyes. ‘What is this for?’
‘ ‘Tis a good luck piece. My father told me it was once blessed by the Veiled Lady. Don’t know if it’s true. Wanted you to have it.’
Kaelin closed his hand around the charm. ‘Thank you, my friend. A man never knows when he’ll need good luck.’
Senlic nodded, then turned away and walked back to the barn.
‘Did you tell him?’ asked Kaelin. Rayster shook his head.
‘No, but he’s canny is Senlic. His mother had the second sight. Maybe he inherited it.’
Kaelin flicked the reins and the wagon lurched forward on the long road to Black Mountain.
The Dancing Bear was one of the oldest buildings in Black Mountain. It had begun life as a barracks and supply depot for Varlish soldiers building the new keep some four hundred years ago. Then it had been a warehouse, and finally a tavern.
It was a large building, originally two-storeyed, but a fire had gutted it a century before, leaving the outer walls standing, but burning away the upper floor. Now it had a high, vaulted roof above a collection of bench tables and leather-topped stools and chairs. The tavern keeper, a wily ex-soldier named Grabthorne, had constructed a partition wall of wicker, separating the drinking area from the dining tables. His cooks supplied no fancy fare, and spices were in short supply, but the Dancing Bear was renowned for its beef steak pies, venison, and mutton. Grabthorne’s wife would also produce fine pastries, apple bakes and custard delicacies.
Kaelin Ring and Rayster were seated at a table by the window, overlooking the gatehouse arch of the keep. Occasionally both sentries would come into sight, usually to greet soldiers crossing the drawbridge after an evening of revelry. On the battlements above another four sentries patrolled.
‘What are we waiting for?’ asked Rayster.
‘The last changing of the guard,’ said Kaelin. Rayster glanced out of the window. The keep reared up against the night sky, majestic and powerful. ‘You are not eating your pie,’ said Kaelin.
‘My appetite is not what it was,’ admitted Rayster.
The tavern keeper, Grabthorne, sidled over to them, wiping his hands on a gravy-stained apron. ‘Is everything to your liking?’ he asked. He was a small man in his fifties, with sharp, blue eyes.
‘The pie is superb,’ said Kaelin. ‘My compliments to Mrs Grabthorne.’
‘I have seen you, young man,’ said Grabthorne. ‘You are from Ironlatch Farm?’
‘I am, sir.’
‘Colonel Ranaud speaks highly of you. Good man, Ranaud.’
‘The best,’ agreed Kaelin.
‘He’ll put those rebels in their place and we can get back to living in peace and making money, eh?’
‘It is certainly to be hoped so, Mr Grabthorne.’
‘We’ll be closing down the kitchens soon,’ said the tavern keeper. ‘If you’ll be wanting apple pie you’d best place your order now.’
‘Thank you. Two portions, if you please.’
Grabthorne wandered away. Many of the diners were now leaving. In the drinking area a group of soldiers were singing raucously. ‘Are you sure you want to go ahead with this plan?’ asked Rayster, leaning across the table.