‘A room, young gentleman?’ He came out from behind the bar. Instead of replying
to Wess, he spoke to Chan. Wess smiled to herself. Like all Chan’s friends, she
was used to seeing people fall in love with him on sight. She would have done so
herself, she thought, had she first met him when they were grown. But they had
known each other all their lives and their friendship was far closer and deeper
than instant lust.
‘A room?’ the innkeeper said again. ‘A meal for you and your ladies? Is that all
we can do for you here in our humble establishment? Do you require dancing? A
juggler? Harpists and hautbois? Ask and it shall be given!’ Far from being
seductive, or even friendly, the innkeeper’s tone was derisive.
Chan glanced at Wess, frowning slightly, as everyone within earshot burst into
laughter. Wess was glad her complexion was dark enough to hide her blush of
anger. Chan was bright pink from the collar of his homespun shirt to the roots
of his blond hair. Wess knew they had been insulted but she did not understand
how or why, so she replied with courtesy.
‘No, citizen, thank you for your hospitality. We need a room, if you have one,
and food.’
‘We would not refuse a bath,’ Quartz said.
The innkeeper glanced at them, an irritated expression on his face, and spoke
once more to Chan.
‘The young gentleman lets his ladies speak for him? Is this some foreign custom,
that you are too high-bred to speak to a mere tavern-keeper?’
‘I don’t understand you,’ Chan said. ‘Wess spoke for us all. Must we speak in