Chapter 3: At the Tweed

Silence is awkward. Especially so when the cause of alarm is unknown. I stand in the door-frame with my dagger raised to the guard. His hand lays on the hilt of a short sword at his waist. The smell intensifies as another minute passes. Suddenly, the guard points behind me and yells.

"Fire!" he indicates. "Help, there's a fire in the study!"

The guard calls out to those downstairs. I can hear footsteps and additional shouts from below. 'Let the scurry begin,' I think with an opportunistic flare. With a firm thrust, I push the guard aside. In a match of fire versus a thief, the fire receives precedent. The stroke of seeming misfortune works to my advantage. I am able to return to the master's bedroom while the men attempt to extinguish the flames. Perhaps, they will understand why some traditions ought to be broken. After all, who else leaves a candle close to a curtain unattended?  

I pass through the master's bedroom and return to the balcony. My entrance shall be my exit. The fire blazing in the room next to me dances in the night. To my surprise, I can hear a shatter. The heat causes a crack in the glass. As the smoke pours out into the air, I begin to cough. My eyes turn towards the lawn.

There are some shards of glass to the left. I scale the side of the building carefully as to avoid stepping on the shards. Once I land on the grass, I can hear the panic in the building grow louder. Using a well to gather enough water to extinguish a flame that great would take time. I shake my head. 'I can’t sympathize now.' I dart across the yard to the familiar tree. 

To the rooftops I tread. I glance below and note that more figures scatter into Ode's estate. Some of the village folks have awoken from their slumber to provide assistance. I shake my head. There's no time for distractions. In the light of the moon, I race across the houses towards the Saunders Gate. Despite the distance, I can already hear the cheers of those behind me. 'The fire is out,' I think with a wry smile. 'Now, I have to leave.' A wanted poster alone could not prompt me to flee, but with the addition of arson, I'm certain that my price will increase. 

By dawn's early light, I jump from a building close to the village's entrance. With a pause, I peer at the road ahead. I recall hearing about another town to the west. Perhaps I may be able to reach it by the next sunset. 

The walk is arduous as my stomach growls for food. In the bushes, there are some edible berries. 'Food on the go,' I think with gratitude. Although berries may not sustain me for a day of travel, they will suffice for the meantime. The dirt road snakes around hills and dips down a slope. 

"Ngiyabonga," I say to the clear sky above with a sense of appreciation. 

The day's journey wanes as my eyes notice a bridge in the distance. As suspected, the sun begins to dip beyond the horizon. The town is painted in hues of pink and gold. The weather will be just as pleasant tomorrow as it is today. It's as the old saying goes: red sky at night brings a sailor's delight. I mind my posture to deflect unwanted attention. Although Saunders has me as a criminal, there is a strong probability that the town ahead does not know of my tricky nature. 'I am but a mere traveler,' my thoughts conclude. When venturing to a new location, one must speak with tact. After all, strangers cannot be fully trusted. 

"Payment please," a small voice breaks my train of thought.

"Excuse me?" I reply while searching for the speaker. 

A child stands by the bridge with his hand held open. 

"Payment," he repeats with more assertion. "Or else you won't cross!"

The threat goes unnoticed. I can easily maneuver around the child. Yet, I feel generous and decide to entertain him.

"Very well," I say with a broad smile and provide a short bow. "Umlingo is one of his word. I may not have much, but I believe this will suffice as proper compensation."

I peruse through my hidden pouch. 'That's the token,' I think to myself as I feel the cold metal. Out from my stash, I show the child a golden bracelet. A child as himself living on the streets would be able to provide for himself and others well with that trinket. I can always take another, but he may not be as fortunate. His face beams in delight as the remaining sunlight sparkles on the treasure. 

"I believe that will do just nicely!" The child snatches the trinket. He looks towards the open gate of town. "Welcome to Riverwood. Should you need a place to stay, the inn is along the second street to the right."

The boy points towards the direction as noted. As I begin to walk into town, he stops me. 

"I mean, the second street on the left." He scratches his head. "Sorry, but I forget sometimes."

"Thank you," I say with a smile. "And what's your name, Bridge Guard?" 

"Richard," the boy says after a pause. "Enjoy your stay!"

With a short salute, the boy runs off. One good act is rewarded with another. Perhaps, Riverwood will provide more sanctuary than Saunders. At least until my face is made known as a wanted rogue. I enter the town and nod towards the gatekeeper. He replies in the same gesture. He looks as though he wished not to have the night shift. The town is larger than my previous residence. Although the sun is low, townsfolk enjoy a nightly stroll. The cobblestone streets are layered evenly. Lamp-posts are lit and glint like starlight. A gentle breeze makes me smile. 'What a peaceful town,' I surmise. First impressions are crucial in the formation of associations. As I walk to the inn, I feel at ease. 

"The Tweed Tavern and Inn," I read out loud. "Well, here we go."

I open the door and the savory scent of meat wafts through the air. There are many people gathered around wooden tables. Silverware clink against each other as the guests eat in delight. Tall mugs of ale slam on tables while people burst out in laughter. The spirits are high. 

"Hello good sir." A slurred voice approaches me. A small man with a drink in hand greets me with a crooked gaze. "I don't reckon I've seen you in these parts."

"And neither can I note your face," I say with a grin. "Excuse me."

I gently move the man aside. With a delicate maneuver, I grab the drunk's purse. He staggers off unawares and stumbles into a corner. I move to a vacant table. 

"Welcome dear," a barmaid is quick to provide courtesy. "What can I get you?"

"Do you have any beef stew?" I ask while folding my hands on the table.

"Aye we do," she smiles. "And do you want any ale?"

"Of course," I say with a cheery expression. "I haven't had a good drink in a long time."

"Well overdue I'd say," she laughs. "I'll take care of you soon, don't worry."

I nod to thank her for her assistance. While waiting for dinner, my eyes glance around the room. To my surprise, I can see a table of Sindre Dwarves! There are no dwarves in Saunders. 'How far is this town from the mountains?' My mind attempts to form an internal map of Andoria. Yet, my thoughts are scattered from the external ruckus. 

"I can't concentrate," I whisper while placing my head in between my hands. 

The barmaid returns with a large bowl and mug.

"Here you go sweetie," she winks. "Enjoy!"

"Thank you, love," I reply with gratitude. 

The stew smells delicious! Eagerly, I dip my spoon into the bowl. Upon the first mouthful, I bite into a tender chunk of beef. The stock is flavorful. Aside from beef, the stew contains an assortment of vegetables and potatoes. I take a sip of the ale. 'Pleasant!' This is the first genuine meal that I have had in a long while.

Once the barmaid comes to check on me, I request a room to board.

"Luckily for you, we have one vacancy left," she remarks in a sing-song demeanor. "Though, how much do you have?"

I rummage through the pouch and remove a couple of rings. Their gold bands shine in the lantern light while the rubies excite the barmaid.

"They do seem honest," she replies with a grin. "I'll see what the boss says."

"Thank you, dear," I reply while placing the pouch back on my person. "Oh, and tell the cook he has done a splendid job!"

She smiles in confirmation of the request. Although I see her walk away with the rings, I do not fret. 'I can always snag more if she takes them for herself,' I think as I take a sip from the mug. 

My attention shifts from the barmaid to the table to the right. The Sindre Dwarves are joyous in their drink. Who knows how long they have sat at the table? Regardless of the time, at least they seem to enjoy themselves. Without wanting to draw unnecessary attention to myself, I return to the half-empty bowl. I'll let my ears do the eavesdropping. In years past, I recall lessons in the Dwarven tongue. 'Focus, ' I tell myself, 'concentrate and remember.' Frustration takes its toll as my mind fails to decipher what they are discussing. 

"The boss says that you're clear." The barmaid breaks my concentration. 

"Excuse me?" I ask while unable to grasp her meaning initially. 

"You've got a room," she smiles as she places a key on the table. "And a meal tomorrow."

Room and breakfast for someone else's rings? That's a great deal!

"Thank you for your time!" I take the key. 

She receives a call from another customer. As we bid each other well, another patron catches my ear. At the Sindre table, their voices lower to a hush. I focus my ears and retrieve a word of value.

"... Gursimi," a dwarf whispers to his group.

'Treasure,' my mind translates the term. Indeed, tonight brings more luck than anticipated.