He noisily cleared his throat, so I glared at him over my shoulder. This time, I tugged the hood back just enough that I could see his face. The late-afternoon sky was bright as the skin of the pink delight apples Biko grew in his orchard. A cluster of clouds, thick and dense, stretched lazily across the setting sun, like a house cat unfurling its limbs. I flared my nostrils slightly, picking up no immediate scent of rain. I turned to see the stableman motioning me back, but I did not move.
“I need come no closer if you plan to steal my coins,” I called.
The man soured and gestured vigorously. “Come, now, miss. I’ve room enough for yer mare.”
I walked back toward the stall, still ready to climb astride the horse and head home if this exchange did not go as planned. I could not overpay for the mare any more than I could toss coins into the sea. Even though I may have looked out of place here, I had as much right as any to investigate this pub, and I’d not part so easily with my limited funds.
The man nodded sheepishly and held out a hand. “Penny per hour,” he said. “Two now. Pay the rest when you return.”
I nodded and slipped my hand into the pouch for my coins.
“But don’t go losing all yer coins in the games,” he gruffed. “Or I keep the mare.”
There was little risk of that happening, as I did not plan to even play tonight. But rather than respond to his warning, I offered him the pennies and passed along the reins.
“I don’t expect to be more than an hour,” I said. “If I leave a third penny, would you provide directions to my destination?”
At the man’s clipped nod, I took another penny from my pouch and handed it over.
“You’re not the type to give a woman false directions…are you, sir?” I studied his face and took comfort in his immediate response.
“I’m a businessman.” He pouted. “Can’t blame me fer trying to make a bit o’ extra off a lady who’s got it, can ya? But I’m not that sort, no, miss.” He pointed to a plume of dark smoke drifting high into the air. “That’s yer place. You can see the sign from here if ya squint.”
While I hoped this stable hand was not the sort ofbusinessmanwho would lead me down a path and follow to rob me or worse, I decided to trust the sincerity of his displeasure at my question. And while I couldn’t quite, even squinting, read the words on the sign, I could discern what looked like a large tavern set back from the road. Smoke rising into the sky like that meant cooking, I assumed, so there might be food even if that was not the gaming house I sought. My stomach reminded me I’d likely miss dinner, and in my haste to dress and leave the house, I’d eaten only a few bites of lunch.
“Thank you, sir. I’ll be back shortly for the mare. My name is—”
He held both hands up, as if to physically brace himself from the impact of my words. “No names, miss. Please.”
I tilted my head in confusion. “Excuse me?”
“Up where yer going, ’tis the policy. No names. I’d prefer not to know it myself. Makes doing business a lot easier knowing as little as possible about the comings and goings of customers.” He pointed to my mare and then to me. “I’ll not forget she’s yours.” He looked nervous then, a sheen of sweat illuminating his wide balding head. “Just remember,” he said, sounding rough again. “Penny an hour.” Then he took my horse, still laden with the water cask and torch, and led her back into a stall.
No names… This place grew more unusual the longer I stayed, but I found no reason to dispute a system that clearly worked here. If I didn’t share my name, there would be no evidence that I’d ever been to Kyruna. As long as I made it home safely. I tugged my hood back over my face and set my eyes on the smoke rising through the wild gray clouds.
I kept my face low as I walked, avoiding meeting the eyes of the people scurrying about their business. Nerves fluttered in my belly, but I did not feel afraid—I was excited. The scent of delicious roasted meats wafted on the air. The passing of horses and carts full of people and goods made the busy shire seem for a moment just like Omrora. But it wasn’t home. And I didn’t think this place, or a place like this, could ever feel like home. As badly as I wanted to escape my destiny, I was beginning to realize in this strange new shire how very difficult running away from home and being reborn might be.
But I was in no way deterred from my plan. I had an appetite for adventure, the kind of my own making. I would not remain a pawn in my parents’ lives as long as I had any moves left to make.
Despite years of trying to have more children, including, I was certain, trying for a son who might more easily follow in my father’s footsteps, my parents had given up hope that I might have siblings. Since they couldn’t replace me with more malleable offspring, they fought me, pushing me like an unwilling checker against a fractured board. They controlled what I studied, who I spoke to. What entertainments I enjoyed. And now they would arrange a marriage between me and one of the many members of the Otleich crime family to ensure that my father’s dark pacts stayed in place for another generation.
This tavern might be my last hope.
I hurried toward the unassuming structure. For a tavern, it was very large, as if it had been built for another purpose entirely but had found its calling after many troubled years. A chimney climbed through the simple peaked roof, spitting dark smoke into the sky. A slight echo of cheering voices carried through the walls. Out front, a carved wooden sign bearing the name Knuckles & Bones hung from a metal arm that swayed slightly with the wind. There wasn’t a soul outside or walking into the place, and yet the window glass was bright with firelight.
I walked up to the door and tugged the handle, but it did not open. A small flap of wood at about my eye level was pulled aside. A pair of eyes peered out, though the door remained closed.
“What’s yer business?” a voice demanded.
“I’m here for a drink and a game,” I said.
The man behind the door glared at me. “And yer name?”
I pressed my lips together, unsure what to say. The odious stable hand had told me there were no names used here. Was that a lie? Something to discredit me or make me look a fool to those who ran this place? I considered saying I had no name, but at the last moment, I doubted myself.
“I’m…”
I’d uttered only the first sound when the small door shuttered closed with a violent bang.