But Tahlen might be right. They’d heard no fast-approaching riders chasing after them. Zelli was free, for the moment. Grandmother would have to trust him.
The enormity of that hit him as they reached a good-sized building, the biggest structure within sight, and Tahlen cleared his throat as if to tell Zelli something.
People were gathered around, although keeping their distance, and they all seemed to have stopped, so Zelli stopped too. He was wondering if he ought to ask one of them where to go when a dainty woman stepped out of the large building to appraise Zelli. She looked past him when she’d completed her study and smiled widely.
Twisting around, Zelli saw Tahlen smiling back at her, and faced forward again to consider her with interest.
Younger than Grandmother by decades, with some silver in her nearly black hair, which was twisted up atop her head like a crown, a length of cloth woven in with it. Her pants looked to be wool and her long shirt was likely linen. Her apron had flour all over it. Her skin was darker than Aunt Bet’s—who was really a cousin but old enough to be an aunt and the title made things less confusing—and her smile for Tahlen revealed a dimple on one cheek.
Tahlen had not been trained in protocol or the traditions of the Tialttyrin family, but he must have remembered quite a bit from his visit here years before, because he dismounted gracefully, moved to stand between the woman and Zelli, and then said in a voice that carried, “This is Mizel of the Tialttyrin. He is here to listen and to offer judgments on whatever you put before him. He will be speaking as The Tialttyrin.”
Zelli snapped his jaw shut just before the woman turned to study him again. He shot Tahlen a quick look full of many questions and Tahlen stared back, as unperturbed as ever.
“This is the owner of this inn,” Tahlen informed Zelli smoothly, “Stern Sar.”
“And mayor this year,” Stern Sar added merrily. “It’s my turn.”
She gazed expectantly up at Zelli.
Zelli, not used to being looked up to, immediately thought he should get down and did so, forgetting in his haste that he did not have a mounting block to rely on. He hit the ground harder than he would have liked but smiled as though he didn’t hear giggles.
“We have smaller horses, but I am fond of Lemon Blossom,” he explained himself to no one in particular, then faced Stern Sar. “Good day,” he told her with palace manners he’d never gotten to use. “I’m here to offer my help as one of the Tialttyrin. It’s an honor to meet you. We might have met before, but I would have been a child at the time, and my hair was darker then.” Like many of his fae traits, the colors of his hair had not been obvious at birth or in his younger years, and had changed over time. He was not certain they were done changing, but the arrival of new shades had slowed even as his other problems had started to meld together. He suspected that humans and the fae did not age at quite the same pace.
Stern Sar seemed intrigued but didn’t indicate if she’d seen Zelli then.
Zelli bowed his head, slightly, then continued on, faltering at the end. “You wrote that you wished for official judgments to be offered. I’m sorry we couldn’t send advance notice of our arrival and I understand that there might be delays as things are readied. I would be pleased to wait in your inn, if you’re willing, and will pay you for the privilege.”
Any Tialttyrin staying with villagers within the valley was to offer to pay for any service done for them. The payment would be politely refused at least once, and then payment would be left anyway, usually for more than any bill would have said. Back when Grandmother had considered regularly taking Zelli with her on these trips, that had been the first lesson.
Stern Sar’s mouth twitched, as if she had heard that speech many times before. But she inclined her head, so Zelli pressed on.
“If you please, could someone see to our horses, and find a room for me and a room for my guard, Tahlen?” He gestured to Tahlen though Mayor Sar seemed to remember him. “Thank you.”
Mayor Sar did not ask why Zelli had only the one guard or why Grandmother had not come herself, though she did grow more serious, dropping some of her smile. “Wedohave a matter that is bigger than the usual scrapes some get into… and a few people who will never listen to the mayor but have to listen to The Tialttyrin—or at least pretend to,” she confided to Zelli, smiling wider again.
Zelli sighed in relief at her humor and gave her a smile in return. “I understand.” Some of his relatives were much the same.
The mayor directed a look toward the crowd behind them, but called out to someone who came and took the reins of both horses. Then she waved Zelli into the inn and waited for him to step inside before she followed him. If she was insulted that Tahlen stayed between her and Zelli, it didn’t show on her face.
The common room was wide and clean and mostly empty of people, which made sense so early in the day. More people trickled in behind them, which was not a coincidence of timing, but Zelli pretended they weren’t there as best as he could and admired aloud the space of the inn.
Mayor Sar did not preen, but she did ask Zelli if he wanted a private room to wait while his bedroom was prepared, and when he said no, she was obviously proud to show Zelli to her best table. Then she stepped away to bring refreshments.
Zelli had never been to an inn before and had no desire to hide upstairs, even with his growing audience. He pulled his cloak back in order to sit and stared expectantly at Tahlen until Tahlen sat too.
“It’s not fitting,” Tahlen said, close to a complaint.
“Hurts my neck,” Zelli snipped back. “And I am not The Tialttyrin.”
He hadn’t expected an apology or explanation and of course did not get one. What he got was a shamed, “I should have chosen a smaller horse for you.”
Zelli nearly slid his hand over the one Tahlen had on the table. “You chose my favorite, which was thoughtful in its own way. I didn’t think about dismounting in front of strangers. Why should you have?”
He would have said more, but Mayor Sar returned, bringing Zelli a tiny cup. From the size of the cup and the scent in the air, the drink was likely the version ofwarmthmade in this part of the valley.Warmth, to those who were fond of it,headacheto those who weren’t, was made from the leftovers of grapes crushed for wine. It was usually clear and sometimes sweet, and was much, much stronger than wine.
Zelli thought of his breakfast of cheese and one apple, but smiled and accepted the glass. He downed it in one swallow, as was expected, and also pretended not to see the people watching eagerly for his reaction. Winegrowers from each region were particular about their wines, but especially about their versions of warmth, which was only brought out for special occasions.
The cellars at the fortress had many varieties from all over the valley and even some of the spicy liquor made over the mountains by the Rossick. Zelli had had warmth before, and this one wasn’t terrible, but he gave Tahlen a warning glance before he bobbed his head to Mayor Sar to thank her. “Delicious. I’ve always enjoyed the variety from here.” His voice was only slightly strained. He hoped Tahlen would not have to walk him to his room so he wouldn’t fall on his face. Mayor Sar gestured to one of the inn’s employees, and they came over quickly with a tray with a bottle and cups on it, and a small plate of nuts and dried fruit.
