Total pages in book: 179
Estimated words: 169943 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 850(@200wpm)___ 680(@250wpm)___ 566(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 169943 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 850(@200wpm)___ 680(@250wpm)___ 566(@300wpm)
“All right. Not seduction, then.” Gwenna continues to pace, thinking. “But if we can find out where the guild men drink, perhaps we can bribe or trick one into getting us in.”
“I’m not sure that’s going to work,” I tell her, uncertain. “They seemed pretty against women overall.”
“Because they were in a group,” she says, all confidence. “Men say very different things when they’re alone with a woman.”
This sounds suspiciously like seduction again. But I don’t have any other plan, and I don’t want to give up, so we might as well give it a try. Find a nice man at a bar. Talk to him. Get him to realize how much this means to me and see if he can’t persuade them to let me in. I don’t have the funds for bribery, but there are other things I can do. I can read and translate. I know how to deal with holder nobility. I’m very good at etiquette. I have an excellent grasp of Old Prellian history.
And if nothing else seems to be effective, perhaps tits will work.
* * *
We argue over who will stay with the luggage and the cat. Gwenna wants to go with me as I head out into Vastwarren City after dark, and I would love for her to accompany me as well, but I also don’t want to abandon our things.
“Let’s go downstairs and talk to the innkeeper,” she suggests. “Maybe she’ll know something and we can go from there.”
It’s a good compromise, and a short time later, we’re downstairs in the raucous tavern room. There’s a woman in the corner shouting a story at a nearby man, a large mug of ale in her hand. Two other men watch her with annoyance, and there looks to be a family tucked away at a table in the corner, by the hearth. The room is dimly lit and smells of smoke; the battered tables are greasy and look as if they haven’t been cleaned in years. Behind the bar, the innkeeper leans against a cask of ale, talking to a man seated by himself at the bar. He looks…unsavory, and I nudge Gwenna to make sure we keep a safe distance between us and him.
We settle at the other end of the bar, near the door, and the woman in the corner gets louder. “AND THEN I WALLOPED HIM,” she howls. “SHOULDA SEEN HIS FACE!”
I wince delicately and wait for someone to tell her to calm down, but no one does. Perhaps this is a normal occurrence here. That’s…worrying.
The innkeeper saunters over to us, and I’d swear she’s wearing the same clothing as yesterday, stains and all. She slaps at the counter with her wet rag, and it’s the same one, too, and smells awful. I swallow hard and decide to breathe through my mouth.
“Y’hungry?” she asks us.
Oh, by the five gods, I don’t think I’ll eat anything in this place again. I try not to stare at the dishrag in horror. “We are seeking information—”
Gwenna puts her hand on mine, shaking her head. “What my friend here is trying to say is that we’re looking for men. Guild men.”
The barkeep eyes us as if we’re fortune hunters. “Mm-hmm. I suppose it’s that time of year.”
What in the Lady’s name does that mean? I open my mouth to protest, but Gwenna stomps on my foot. “Can you think of a better time to find a good man?” She beams at the woman. “Don’t suppose you know where we might introduce ourselves to a few of them? See if they’re lonely?”
See if they’re lonely? Good gods.
The innkeeper shrugs. She swipes at the counter with that nasty rag again, sending a fresh wave of scent in our direction, and I press a finger under my nose as if it will make a difference. “You can ask the loud one in the corner,” the woman says. “She’ll know everyone at the guild. And if you get her out of my inn before she breaks something, I’ll be mighty grateful.”
I turn my head, craning to look at the woman in the corner with new interest. She’s currently in a drinking contest with another man, both of them with their mugs tilted back and beer spilling down their faces. From what I can see of her, though, she looks to be about the same age as Gwenna and myself, though she’s wearing a pair of trousers and a dark blouse that is about to be completely soaked.
“Thank you.” Gwenna puts a penny on the counter and then grabs me by the arm, hauling me across the tavern room toward the carousing woman in the back. We march up to her table, and Gwenna speaks again, holding me against her. “Scuse me, miss—”
The woman slams her near-empty mug down on the wooden tabletop, splashing us with the remnants of her beer. She looks over at us, then opens her mouth and gives the most unholy belch in all of history.