Embrace of the Lycan - Chapter 2

Chapter 2
When they arrived, they could see only one building that looked like it may have any life in it. It was a larger building and in marginally better repair than the dwellings they had passed earlier. Smoke was coming from a chimney, so somebody must be at home. Lucian surmised it was an inn or tavern and made his way towards the door. Raze, who had appointed himself Lucian’s guardian, moved quicker than you would expect for such a big man and ducked through the door first.

There were no customers sat at the half dozen rickety tables, nor could they immediately see any one behind the bar. ‘Barkeep!’ yelled Raze, in his deep thunderous voice, which vibrated a few tankards lined up behind the bar. Within a few seconds a young woman ducked out the small door from behind the bar that led to a kitchen area. Going by the sweet smell that followed her out there was bread or dumplings cooking. She didn’t look too pleased at the intrusion.

‘Why are you bellowing at me like some horny bull?’ Krisztina cried as she closed the kitchen door behind her. She looked up at the dark man-mountain that was towering over her bar and she immediately regretted the comment but felt it was too late to back down now.

‘We want food,’ he grumbled. ‘Bring us what you have… now!’

Krisztina glowered right back and said, ‘Do I look like I am in the habit of giving food away to any cretin that finds its way through my door? Show me your coin first, and I may consider not kicking you right back into what ever hole you just crawled out of.’

Raze’s eyes opened wide in surprise. Here was a man not accustomed to people, especially women, answering him in that tone. He curled a lip and flared his nostrils, and looked as if he was about to swat her with one of his huge fists. Lucian laid a hand on Raze’s forearm, and with a look was able to prevent any further argument.

Krisztina had to admit she was a little impressed. This man was much smaller in stature, but obviously commanded great respect from the rest of the men. He had an edgy fierceness about him that was nothing to do with mass. He was dressed from head to toe in leather, and was armed with a couple of blades strapped to his back. His melancholy face was framed by long dark hair, a small section held back by a piece of leather thong. She looked into his sad green eyes and knew that they had seen trouble, and dealt with it. Going by the state of him and his group, they had recently been through some kind of conflict. The man had a few cuts on his face that looked a several days old, and there appeared to be dried blood on his clothes and in his long matted hair.

Lucian turned towards the woman who stood defiant, despite being alone in front of several ferocious looking men. It was a brave gesture, and he admired her spirit. Even with the worn clothes smudged in flour, she was an attractive woman and seemed quite young, early 20’s perhaps. She was a similar height to him, with long wavy hair that was a much darker brown than his. Her face was lightly tanned and combined with her large dark brown eyes, made her quite striking. What was a woman her age doing running a tavern in this forsaken village?

‘Madam… I apologise for my impolite friend here, but we have recently fought our oppressors, and gained our freedom. We do not have any coin on us at the moment as we are refugees looking for a home.’ He paused to see how this had gone with her so far, yet he saw no emotion on her face as she held his gaze.

‘We would like to settle here, and we plan to work, and build. This village looks half dead, but we are willing to stay and give it new life if it will offer us the same. If you could spare some food for my men here, I promise that we will pay you in kind.’

Lucian continued to look directly at the woman. Her lashes fluttered ever so slightly over her large brown eyes, an indication of some internal dialogue. Her hardened façade seemed to visibly soften, and she waved them towards the tables. She pushed an errant strand of chestnut hair behind her ear and said ‘I have some fresh bread baking in the oven; it will be about another 15 minutes. I can reheat some of the gulyás from yesterday.’

‘That’s very kind, thank you.’ Lucian smiled.

Raze was the last to sit down. He sheepishly asked for some thing to drink, this time far more genteel. Krisztina shortly came back and brought with her some clay jugs of water, and passed them the tankards from behind the bar. This was followed by loaves of warm bread that were big and round, with a thick hard crust.

They broke the bread, breathing in the fragrant steam as the crust broke, and Sabas asked Krisztina what meat was in the gulyás.

She asked in return, ‘How hungry are you?’

‘Very,’ he added.

‘Then don’t ask.’

When the stew was served in clay bowls, its tasty aroma soon quelled any further questions in regard to the ingredients. Krisztina placed generous bowls in front of everyone and then returned behind the bar. Lucian got up, as his men devoured the hot food. He went over to the bar, and Krisztina asked, ‘Are you not hungry?’

Lucian smiled and shook his head. ‘I just wanted to thank you, once again.’ He seemed content to watch his men eat.

Krisztina went to the table, fetched his bowl and placed it firmly in front of him on the bar barking, ‘Eat!’

Not wishing to offend his hostess, Lucian shovelled some stew into his mouth, and realised after that first taste that he was actually quite famished.

‘So, when did this … emancipation of yours happen then? Should we expect a visit from some noble looking to retrieve his ‘property’?’

Lucian paused, a morsel half way to his mouth, and he answered tersely, ‘It happened but a day ago, and no, there will be no noble looking for us.’ Krisztina understood only too well what this implied and decided not to pursue the matter, but could not hide her surprise.

‘A day ago?’ she replied. ‘Those cuts look two or three days old, you must heal fast.’

Lucian regretted his slightly sharp tone earlier, so he smiled at her and said, ‘Yes, you could say that.’

He asked her of her situation, asked why she was in this place alone. Krisztina briefly explained that after her mother’s death, she had been raised by her maternal grandmother in a city many miles away. After her grandmother passed away, she had no choice but to return here to her father. She said although he did not welcome her, he was the only family she had left. He too passed away last winter. She admitted that she sometimes regretted staying at the Inn, as the few travelling merchants, moving between markets were her only custom these days.

The meal over, the men started to get up. János came and thanked Krisztina, and she rewarded him with a wide smile that made his heart flutter. He promised to come by the next day and take a look at a hole he had spotted in her roof. The others muttered their thanks, and with promises of similar aid they filed out the small door.

‘Before you go…’, Krisztina shouted to Lucian. She darted into the back room, and came back with a hessian bag. In it, were half a dozen more loaves and a few kolbász. ‘This is for your friends outside.’ When Lucian looked at her quizzically, she explained. ‘I saw you all arrive in town from my upstairs window. I know that there are more of you out there and I can’t have my new neighbours going hungry.’

‘This is extremely generous of you. We cannot thank you enough for your assistance,’ Lucian replied, genuinely grateful.

‘Oh… no need for such thanks,’ she responded, a little embarrassed. ‘It would all be thrown away anyway, if no one buys it.’ She smiled warmly at Lucian, and pushed a lock of her long hair back behind her ears in an obvious self conscious manner. He returned her smile, just as warmly, and for a second Krisztina saw how gentle and kind his face could look, when it wasn’t being haunted by whatever tragedy had befallen this group.

‘Is there a village council or elder that I should perhaps seek permission from before settling here?’ he enquired.

‘Not really,’ she wrinkled her nose in thought, ‘There is Old György who lives just across the way, near the smithy. We don’t really have a council as such, but he is the one who takes any matters to the Duke should we need him to.’

‘You have a smith?’ he asked earnestly.

‘Not anymore,’ she laughed. ‘We have a smithy, but no smith to work it.’

She walked him to the door, and just before she closed it behind him she shouted ‘And don’t let the big guy eat it all.’