The Groom's Tale

The thunder out over the deep woods was still distant, but rain already pattered on the wooden roof of the charcoal burner's cabin- and into the leak pan on the earthen floor. The storm outside was a warm, comfortable sound. Around the fire, the five strangers were starting to talk like old friends as they passed bowls of venison stew and the half-blind charcoal burner wiped ale out of his long, white beard.

Although the graying equerry was dressed in velvet and oiled furs while the others wore undyed wool or ragged linen, he didn't look out of place among them. When they finished their meal and sat back cozily on their crude chairs, he was the first to stop talking and begin to speak. "I think," he grew less formal word by word, "That we had best share all we know before we go any further together. From what the tanner- and the rest of you- told me, I think I'm finally starting to understand. But none of us lived this long by rushing into danger blindly, you know? I'm sure she'll need help if she's really gone into that witch realm alone, but I want to know what kind. And why she went."

Only the young bowyer minded a pause to digest words and stew. "Are you old coots gonna cook your feet black by that fire before you start talking? I'm in the mood for a bawdy story even if I have to tell it myself."

The equerry laughed. "You remind me of a man I used to know. Well Arsalin gave me a story you'll like -if you can be patient." He stopped just long enough to annoy the bowyer. "I suppose I'll go first, though I think some of you knew her earlier."

I was still working as a stableboy at Red Braigo's Inn when I met Arsalin. It was a sultry evening two moons after I'd turned eighteen. The sun was lighting the lakes ablaze as I walked back from the farrier's with a horseshoe in my left hand and a pair of copper raimos clinking in my right. Since I'd negotiated the cantankerous old farrier down from his usual price, I could keep half the difference. Braigo made sure we were hard bargainers on his errands that way.

He gave us a big discount too, but most of our extra coin still went right back to him since he had the best place in Daraigo. When I returned, Vaiker'd already had two ales and was sharing a third with a little shepherdess from out east of town somewhere. He was just getting started. Vaiker was only a year or so older than me, but he'd had a thick, black mustache for three winters and he was really big. Almost six feet maybe. Never saw him drunk, no matter how many he had. He was already adventurous and more than a little coarse sober; ale just made him louder.

Jaga and Carago, another pair of inn hands, were eyeing the girl enviously. They were older than Vaiker but not as handsome. Jaga might've been if he didn't have that broken nose from when a horse kicked him years before. Vaiker'd had his first woman before they did and never let any of us forget it. This girl would be lucky number six, or so he claimed, and she was politely giggling at that when I came in.

Braigo took the opportunity to change the subject to something that wouldn't offend the old banker from Garao or the other grandees in the common room. "Karan!" he tapped one orange-haired hand on the bar and waved me over with the other, "How'd dickering with old man Jangra go?"

I tossed him his copper and he whistled appreciatively. "That reminds me!" he beckoned me closer, "I was short of coin on your birthday, but here you are now. With interest!" he winked at the banking guild's man and pressed a cool, golden raimo into my palm.

The tanner whistled too. "Sounds like a lucrative man to work for!"

Karan nodded, "He was always good to us, rest his soul. Not a bit conceited either; Braigo always said there were better inns back home in Raim, so having the best one in Daraigo didn't make him a bigshot. He'd always liked me especially well too since I did what he said when he said without any sass or grumbling." He drank to wet his lips, "Of course, the Signore's good too in his way. He lets me do my job-"

"Get to the fucking good stuff, would you?" the bowyer interrupted.

Well I'd already been doing a man's job at eighteen, so it hadn't seemed a special birthday till then. I thanked him and he smiled warmly, "Think about what to spend it on while you hang the shoe in Thunder's stall. We'll get that on the rascal tomorrow."

I was turning to go when Carago elbowed me. "Might be enoughta pay-" Braigo shook his red-curled head, but Carago was too soused to take the hint, "Pay.... Oh, maybe enoughta pay shome wench to fuck you, gap teeth and all."

I heard two men hooting along as I hurried out, red-faced.

The sun was huge, red, and in my eyes on the way to the stable. I'd been living in the loft four years, since I lost my pa in the blue fever of '28. It wasn't a bad place to sleep: warm in the winter and I always liked the smell of clean straw-

"Is Arsalin actually in this story?" the bowyer earned a glare from the tanner and an inscrutable stare from the quiet fisherman.

Karan the equerry sighed and sat up, "Yes, right now. I'm going to tell my story my way. You'll have your turn."

The sun was blinding, so I didn't see her standing there in the shade of the crooked door.

Thunder was a big, reddish gelding Braigo'd had for six years. A good horse for hauling carts, but for some reason he was always throwing shoes.

I hung the new one on the door to his stall, got some more hay for him and the rest, and then saw a new horse in with the other guests'. He was a smallish, gray stallion with the Washtan look. Great endurance horses, you know. You can tell the breed for sure since they've only got seventeen ribs. Anyway, he still had his saddle but I decided to fetch him some water first.

I turned and nearly jumped out of my shoes when I saw her right behind me!

She was beautiful.

Well, no, not quite. The Most Serene Republic of Daraigo On The Lake isn't a huge city like Raim or Isva or even Virse, but it's no country village either. Women from all over came through, so I'd certainly seem some who were more beautiful.

But she was up close and she was... striking. She looked fierce and hard. Not quite muscular, but I could see her tanned arms were wiry strong. Dangerous. And lovely for that as much as for her pretty features.

She was young then, of course, just a few years older than me. She wore mostly red back then too though: a long, sweat-darkened dress; a triangular, straw hat with scarlet ribbons; and road-worn riding-boots of crimson leather.

I was staring. She cleared her throat and gave a wry grin, "That's my horse, Clipper."

Those black eyes were hypnotic. "I... uh... Clipper, yes!" The faint smile on her full lips was prettiest of all. "I'm Karan. A stabl- a groom here. At Red Braigo's!"

She looked so confident, so smooth. "It's been a long day in the sun; Clipper will need plenty of water." She slid by and took one of the saddlebags, "I've got the stirrups packed already. Put the saddle and the other sack in the tack room under my name."

"Yes, I-" I realized she thought I was slow. That or she was mocking me. After Carago I wasn't in any mood for that. "Of course, miss. What is your name?" It was a bit brusque, but her look wasn't disapproving.

"Arsalin." She stood with so much pride that I'd half-expected a title of nobility. "Can you write?"

I proudly said I could. "Good," she smiled again and I felt prouder yet, "Put me in your register as A-R-S-A-L-I-N. Now Clipper doesn't like carrots or apples from anyone else, and I already gave him one, so just put his oats in the manger and he'll eat when he wants to." Her voice was pretty but strong, like the rest of her. No, not 'but strong', pretty because it was strong. I almost lost track of what she was actually saying, but I'd embarrassed myself enough already.

Well just like that we're talking horses. She knew almost as much as I did, maybe more about riding. I think I impressed her too when Clipper nuzzled my hand and took an apple I offered after all. I always did have a way with them.

People were done traveling for the day, so no one interrupted us and we talked till it was full dark. It felt like no time at all, and I barely remembered a word we said. I know she didn't tell me much about herself, but she was more interested in Daraigo and the people around town than I'd expected any outsider to be.

"Well I'm not," the bowyer cut in again, "I want to know why she's going to this 'blackguard' in Zhendry. And," he added with a shameless smirk, "Whether she was a great fuck back then too."

"Youth," the tanner lounged in his chair, "Is wasted on the dumb."

The equerry stepped in quickly, "I think we're going to need to know all we can about her before we do something so dangerous. So please," his polite tone hardened slightly, "Stop interrupting."

Well eventually she went in to take a bath and order a late dinner and a room. I closed up the stables for the night. Tending the horses was always late work compared to hauling water like Jaga or tending to the roof and whatnot like Carago and Vaiker, but I never really minded since I wasn't much for talking or drinking back then. Not with them anyway.

Vaiker whistled and laughed when I came in. "So how was she?" he asked the entire smoky room. There wasn't much choice between sitting with him and walking through the whole crowd while they stared at me. I sat.

"How was who?" Jaga sounded thicker than usual and Vaiker and Carago snickered at that instead for a moment.

"That red-hot, fuckable bundle of woman who came strutting through here, you dolt!" Vaiker chuckled and waved toward the ladder to the second story. "You should have seen the ass on her."

Amer- the shepherdess blushed a bit, but she'd shared at least another two drinks with Vaiker now and nodded dreamily, "She was something."

Vaiker put an arm across his forehead in mock distress, "Oh no! Carago was one thing, but don't tell me I have a beauty like you for a rival!"

At that she really did blush and stammer that that wasn't what she'd meant, but he just laughed again, drained his mug, and turned back to me, "But what am I telling them for? You must know more about what's under that dress than I do after so much time alone in the stables together."

"Did you fuck her?" Carago was agape at the idea.

I almost said I had. I wanted them to stop mocking me for not having bedded anyone yet, but I realized I didn't want to lie about her. I just shook my head instead.

"Just as well. You wouldn't know what to do with a woman anyway." Vaiker glanced over his shoulder, "Speak of a wolf and it's in the sheepfold!" He turned back around and smirked, "I'll tell you what her pussy tastes like over breakfast tomorrow."

I followed his gaze and found her climbing gracefully down the ladder. Her hair was nearly black after her bath, and she'd cleaned some of the road dust off her dress too. I blushed when I realized Vaiker was right; the dress hugged her butt as she came down and it looked as toned and comely as the rest of her.

Devann brought me a mug of Braigo's good, dark ale. She was a matronly woman who usually acted older than her thirty-five winters, but she had a roguish streak too. Short and sharp-chinned with rusty orange hair like most of us Daraigath. Braigo said she was perfect for keeping things calm while managing the bar on a busy night. Vaiker said she was perfect for bending over the bar on a slow night, though I didn't really believe he'd had her.

I chatted with Devann and the shepherdess -she was almost as quiet as me, but she had the prettiest little giggle I'd ever heard- and tried not to watch Arsalin mingling with the other guests.

Vaiker tried to get her attention across the room for a while and I was really glad she didn't seem to see him. I was just turning to ask Devann for another round and one of her famous stuffed potatoes when I saw him combing his hair in the looking-glass he'd taken to carrying. "A face this pretty is worth spending a pretty penny on," he'd said when he bought it. He stood up, brushed himself off, and sauntered over to her, grinning his handsome grin. I didn't want to, but I had to watch.

Even when he sat at her table, she kept talking to an old trader-woman on the other side of her for a while. When Arsalin finally turned to him, I could almost hear him pouring on the charm. I had butterflies in my stomach.

It dropped into my shoes when she stood to come back with him. The shepherdess said something angry. I couldn't watch another moment; I scurried into the kitchen.

Devann was grumbling at a stubborn stain on a pan and trying to keep the one-strapped, brown apron over her dress from getting in her way. We were pretty good friends and she was always glad of another pair of hands on crowded evenings. I gladly worked for those potatoes of hers. Braigo sometimes said he'd have to marry her for them.

Anyway, she didn't mind me helping her put things in order. Most evenings we'd try to hum some minstrel tunes together while we worked, though neither of us was much good. That night I was just awful.

I kept looking out at Vaiker's table. Jaga and Carago were well and truly drunk and mostly just snickered at each other's jokes or leered at Arsalin. She and Vaiker and the girl were doing all the talking.

Now that there was a bit more light, I could see Arsalin wasn't just tanned; she had a rich, reddish-brown complexion like the people from all those little countries north of the Wide Waste. Sort of chestnutish but darker. Sweat made her gleam like polished bronze in the torchlight.

And when she leaned forward to listen I could see part of her breasts too. They looked small and firm and I wondered what they'd feel like. Vaiker and Carago both said breasts felt great, but I hadn't even had the courage to ask to kiss a girl yet.

"What did the shepherd-girl look like?" the bowyer asked. Karan glanced down, "Well, uh, I didn't really notice her next to Arsalin that night. But she was cute. Very cute with lovely red hair and freckles. Deep brown eyes. I think she had on a long, green and brown dress. Wool of course."

Well I wasn't very sneaky. As Devann walked by me to toss a rag in the washbucket, she winked and tapped a finger on her ear, "Quit your worrying, lover-boy, she's not into him." Devann always said she had the best ears in Daraigo- and needed them to hear orders on nights like this.

It looked like she was right! More often than not, Arsalin was talking with Am- with the girl- and Vaiker was trying to squeeze back into the conversation. I stopped worrying after a few minutes of that.

The guests started heading home or upstairs for the night. I had a quick dinner and some more ale with Devann while we talked about the rains and whether she thought we'd be short on fish again this year.

I was a little unsteady by the time we were helping Braigo and all the sober inn hands he could find clear the tables. As we walked back into the kitchens with a last armload of plates I asked, "Is it true about you and Vaiker?" That's when I realized I was really drunk.

She stood up sharply, "Why do you think that's your business?" Her face was in shadow, but I was certain the stern Devann was back.

"I- I'm sorry. It isn't. I'm sorry," I scurried away while I could.

Half an hour later, everyone else was asleep. It was time for Devann to lock the door for the night and past time for me to go to the stable loft. "Yes, it's true," she said as I stepped outside. The summer breeze felt cool and clean after the smoky common room. I could feel sweat drying off my hair as I wondered what she meant. "But that is not for all ears. I expect more brains from you than that boy. Don't disappoint."

The equerry trailed off sadly.

"The poor woman is dead, isn't she?" the tanner asked.

Karan nodded dully, "The war. Daraigo was... ravaged. I was in Raim during the fighting, but I was riding with the Signore when he led the repairs. I... there were thousands of bodies. I knew so many of them.... Vaiker was there too, rest his soul. They said he was a hero. The inn got hit first, middle of the night. Vaiker and Braigo held the entrance long enough for the guests to slip out the cellar door." He laughed brokenly, "I tripped over it in the dark a dozen times. Now I'm glad it was so hard to see..."

He leaned over to stoke up the dwindling fire and get control of his voice. "People aren't just one thing, you know? No one is. Vaiker was a bully and a braggart sometimes, but he was brave and he could be kind too. When I lost the last of my family and had to start staying in the stable loft, he never mocked any of the crying I did. I think he did a little himself even. And he stayed up all night to fix up the roof just right so it wouldn't ever leak on me."

The equerry jumped back into the story.

Well... I finally realized she meant she'd really bedded Vaiker. "Oh.... Uh..." I'd definitely had too much ale to talk smooth. Not that I was much good at that then anyway. "I won't tell."

"It was just a little fling," she must have had too much herself, "I wanted to see if a younger guy would still think I was sexy; he wanted... well just about anything in a dress will do for that boy. And I guess I was wondering if he was actually any good." I didn't want to know more, but I could practically hear another of her rare winks as she went on, "Much better than I thought he would be. That mouth is good for more than jokes. He'll be a fine catch for some young woman if he ever gets around to growing up. For now he's still just a boy, and I think your lady-friend saw that. Ameri too."

I did not want to stay to ask who Ameri was. Thinking about Vaiker giving Devann the Isva Kiss was getting me hard, and I really didn't want her to see that. I said an awkward goodnight, stumbled my way up into the stables, and bedded down after checking on the horses. Clipper was sound asleep with the rest.

I slept like a stone too but woke early the next morning. Earlier than usual even, and I was often up before dawn so people could ride out at first light. Someone with a candle was moving down below.

I lit a candle of my own, threw on my tunic, and climbed down to help whoever it was.

Arsalin yawned and slid a knife back into her boot when she saw it was me. I hadn't noticed that the night before. It wasn't her only one either; a long dagger hung on her belt and I saw another little one in her other shoe before the shadows hid her feet. "I'll be going now," she said neutrally as we walked toward Clipper's stall.

There were so many things I wanted to say. "That's early," was all I came up with.

Her tone grew icy, "Braigo wanted me out."

"Oh." I was afraid I'd offended her somehow, but after a moment she brightened.

"I need to move on anyway. No sense in picking a fight about a few more hours of snoozing before I get on the road." She yawned again and her dress swished as she stretched. She was wearing the same clothes -- other than the hat, of course- but a bit rumpled now.

Together we watered and fed Clipper, brushed him, and were about to saddle him up when she turned to me. I was suddenly conscious of how warm and close our bodies were in the stall.

She smiled and looked me in the eye. My heart stopped. "Would that Braigo beat you if we fucked?"

I had no idea what to say. I think I stammered something about Braigo being good to work for with enough conviction that she gave a little snort.

"Then I want to if you do. You live upstairs, I take it?" I could only nod.

So we gathered the candles and climbed up the ladder to the loft. My hands were shaking so bad that I nearly fell off.