“But, sir! It’s got good flavor. At least let me ask three.”
He sighed. “Why must you always be so damn stubborn? Let it be three, but make them brimming pints. Mind you, if I hear one complaint, I’ll fine you a silver and you can take your case to the Steward’s Court.”
“Thank you, sir,” she said, smiling.
“Good day to you all.” He nodded and trotted off toward the east.
They watched him go, and then Dunstan started chuckling. “A fine welcome home you’ve had so far—a belt in the mouth and threat of arrest.”
“Actually, outside the fact that everything looks a lot smaller, not much has changed here,” Hadrian observed. “Just some new faces, a few buildings, and, of course, the envoy.”
“He’s only been here a week,” Dunstan said, “and I’m sure the bailiff and the steward will be happy when he leaves. He travels a circuit covering a number of villages in the area and has been showing up here every couple of months since the New Empire annexed Rhenydd. No one likes him, for obvious reasons. He’s yet to meet Lord Baldwin face to face. Most of us think Baldwin purposely avoids being here when the envoy comes. So Luret’s list of complaints keeps getting longer and longer and the steward just keeps writing them down.
“So are you really here just to see your father’s grave? I thought you were coming back to stay.”
“Sorry, Dun, but we’re just passing through.”
“In that case, we had best make the most of it. What say you, Armigil? Roll a keg into my kitchen and I’ll supply the bread and stools for toasts to Danbury and a proper welcome for Haddy?”
“He don’t deserve it. But I think I have a keg round here that is bound to go bad if’n I don’t get rid of it.”
“Hobbie!” Dunstan shouted up the street to a young man at the livery. “Can you find a place for these horses?”
Dunstan and Hadrian helped Armigil roll a small barrel to the bakery. As they did, Royce and Arista walked their animals over to the stables. The boy cleared three stalls, then ran off with a bucket to fetch water.
“Do you think the envoy will be a problem?” Arista asked Royce once Hobbie had left.
“Don’t know,” he said, untying his pack from the saddle. “Hopefully we won’t be here long enough to find out.”
“How long will we be here?”
“Cosmos will move fast. Just a night or two, I imagine.” He threw his bag over his shoulder and crossed to Hadrian’s horse. “Have you decided what you’ll say to Gaunt when you meet him? I hear he hates nobility, so I wouldn’t start by asking him to kiss your ring or anything.”
She pulled her own gear off Mystic and then, holding out her hands, wiggled her bare fingers. “Actually, I thought I’d ask him to kidnap my brother.” She smiled. “It worked for you. And if I can gain the trust and aid of a Royce Melborn, how hard can it be to win over a Degan Gaunt?”
They carried the gear across the street to the little whitewashed shop with the signboard portraying a loaf of bread. Inside, a huge brick oven and a large wooden table dominated the space. The comforting scent of bread and wood smoke filled the air, and Arista was surprised the bakery wasn’t broiling. The wattle-and-daub walls and the good-sized windows managed to keep the room comfortable. As Arista and Royce entered, they were introduced to Dunstan’s wife, Arbor, and a host of other people whose names Arista could not keep up with.
Once word spread, freemen, farmers, and other merchants dropped by, grabbing a pint and helping themselves to a hunk of dark bread. There were Algar, the woodworker; Harbert, the tailor; and Harbert’s wife, Hester. Hadrian introduced Wilfred, the carter, and explained how he used to rent Wilfred’s little wagon four times every year to travel to Ratibor to buy iron ingots for his father’s smithy. There were plenty of stories of the skinny kid with pimples who used to swing a hammer beside his father. Most remembered Danbury with kindness, and there were many toasts to his good name.
Just as the bailiff had predicted, it started to rain, and soon the villeins, released from work due to weather, dropped by to join the gathering. They slipped in, quietly shaking off the wetness. Each got a bit of bread, a pint to drink, and a spot to sit on the floor. Some brought steaming crocks of vegetable pottage, cheese, and cabbage for everyone to share. Even Osgar, the reeve, pressed himself inside and was welcomed to share the community meal. The sky darkened, the wind whipped up, and Dunstan finally closed the shutters as the rain poured.