Dragon's Lair Read Online Free PDF Page B

standing across the street in the door of his smithy. "Gunter!" The blacksmith waved back, but by then Aldred had ducked into the alehouse.
    He halted, blinking until his eyes had adjusted to the shadows. It was more crowded than he'd expected, for Vespers had not rung yet. Customers clustered around the rickety wooden tables, perched on stools and benches, sat on upturned empty barrels, voices pitched loudly to be heard above the din. Most were men, although there were a few local women happy to gossip and drink in a place where they could feel comfortable and safe. In the midst of this chaos was Nell, looking more harried than usual, pouring ale and scolding her helper, Ellis, for being a laggard and slapping away hands if they got too familiar as she squeezed past.
    Aldred found a spot for himself and when Nell noticed him, he held up two fingers, hoping that she'd be tempted to take a break and have an ale with him. He'd always assumed that any woman managing an alehouse would have to be a hag, ugly as sin and as strapping and hulking as a Kentish quarryman. But Nell was a little bit of a lass, not even reaching his shoulder, with curly flaxen hair that was always escaping the constraints of her veil, a ripe, pouting mouth, and eyes as blue as a harvest sky. Aldred's shy courtship had not progressed very far; he suspected that Nell dismissed him as a green country lad, even though he'd lived in London for nigh on two years and proudly bore a scar on his throat from the blade of the notorious Gilbert the Fleming.
    Eventually Nell made her way over, and Aldred's hopes rose at the sight of two tankards of ale. "Move your bum, Firmin," she directed and the man obediently slid down the bench, allowing her to sit next to Aldred.
    "Lord have mercy, what a day…," She drank, sighed, and drank again. "I vow, Aldred, I've been on the run since daybreak, with nary a chance to catch my breath. First my Lucy was chasing about with that mad beast of Justin's and she tripped, scraping her knees and getting blood all over her skirt. Whilst I was getting her cleaned up, the sausages I was frying burnt to cinders. Then Hardwin finally showed up to whitewash the walls, after promising and putting me off for nigh on a month. So what happened next? Look for yourself," she said, pointing toward a patch of brightness, an island in a sea of smoke-smudged, murky grime.
    "He mixed the lime and salt with water, painted that small section of the wall, and then told Ellis he was off to the cook shop for his supper. That was hours ago! I'll wager he's not coming back tonight, and all I've got to show for his day's work is one half-done wall, a lot of clutter, and that trough over there slopping over with whitewash! Ellis already put his foot in one of the buckets, damned near broke his leg. When I catch Hardwin, I'll make him rue the day he was ever born!"
    Aldred did not doubt it; Nell's temper was legendary on Gracechurch Street. "You know how painters and carpenters and their ilk are," he said sympathetically. "If you are fool enough to give them their money ere the job is done, they're off in a puff of smoke -" Suddenly realizing that he'd just inadvertently insulted Nell, he said hastily, "Is Jonas here yet? He told me to meet him at Vespers. He and Justin have been chasing their tails all over London, trying to track down those rumors about some of the sheriff's men keeping a portion of the ransom for themselves."
    In his eagerness to distract Nell from his gaffe, he was being indiscreet. Normally Nell would have seized upon this intriguing bit of gossip, but she was only half-listening to Aldred, eyes narrowing upon a corner table. "I cannot believe it," she muttered. "Now that knave is harrying poor Leofric!"
    Following her gaze, Aldred did not see why she was so vexed. The object of her anger seemed to be a stranger of about thirty or so, well-dressed in a stalked cap and bright blue tunic, long legs stretched out in front of him, revealing