Larger Font   Reset Font Size   Smaller Font  

Dragon of Torik, Page 2

Floyd Looney

The four horsemen arrived at the town of Torik in late afternoon and while they could see the road continued up a small rise to the large chateau of the Duke of Torik, which also doubled as the townsfolk redoubt and keep. The Duke, Roget Willoughby, also owned a lot of the peppercorn fields overseen by such a residence.

  They tied their horses and then entered Torik de Arms Inn. Most of the bottom floor was taken up by tables where supper was being served to patron. Upstairs there were actual rooms to let, not just a hay loft. The sign out front with the name Torik de Arms Inn had a wooden representative of a disembodied arm, with the end of it being painted red.

  At first glance it was quiet and no one was in the street. Then again that was also suspicious to Meritor who still had no idea why they had been sent by the senile King's son, Prince Harald. Meritor looked from table to table as Braccus approached the man at the counter.

  “Are you still looking for that dwarf?” Kaster asked, “Seems rather pointless. No doubt he was hired by someone else to get rid of us.”

  “Funny little man.” Hodkins said with a chuckle.

  Meritor frowned. He hadn't told them about “Lord Jasper”, but you would think they would at least have some desire to run a blade through the dwarf that tried to have them killed by trolls. The dwarf, Malwort, had no way of knowing how much experience the big men had at killing the beasts. A pathetic attempt to slay them it might have been, but really, he still tried to kill them!

  Braccus returned. He had acquire a room for the night, just one, but there was a good chance they would do no sleeping. “I think our contacts will give us a message before long. They couldn't have missed our arrival in this small town.”

  Braccus led them to the dining room where several rough-hew tables sat. Wine, bread and cheese were delivered to the table by a young lady. Meritor really hoped that Hodkins or Kaster didn't call her “wench” or they'd be asked to leave.

  “If they approach us soon, we'll take to the ale house across the way.” Braccus said.

  “Sounds like a good plan!” Hodkins said pouring the wine in his cup down his throat, although some missed and dribbled down his beard. Meritor tried to act civilized but his compatriots were chowing through the bread and cheese like it was their last supper.

  “Calm it down.” Meritor said, “This isn't even the main course.”

  Braccus laughed. He had already known but, he always let the men enjoy themselves. Sure enough a plate of baked chicken, potatoes and carrots with a side of raw tomatoes was delivered. Meritor was nodding deeply and saying “Thank you, young miss.” while the brutes were already tearing the meal to bits and stuffing it into their mouths. Meritor tried to think about something else besides his partners having the manners of a full-grown hog.