Dragon in a Dream, page 16 ---"The Weeping Willow"--- +Lady_Blaze+

-- Author's note: For those of you who stop by that actually read this post, you have my thanks... And those few who have kept reading from the beginning, you have the pleasure of this book continuing on for more than fifty "pages". I continue to thank you for your thoughts and support...

At the other door into the sanctuary I stopped once, my heart thudding in my chest, to listen and make sure no one would be on the other side.

The spacious room was as empty as I had left it except for a single old man seated in the last row. I could hear him muttering guttural prayers as I passed him. Rocking to and fro, he stopped a second to glare murderously up at me, then continued mumbling and rocking when I had surpassed his vision. His gaze made my skin crawl.

The burly priest guarding the main entrance had been replaced by a fresh-faced and clean shaven man only a little younger than I. He smiled hesitantly and nodded in my direction, a befuddled look suddenly crossing his face. Determined to clear it and feeling slightly daring now that my ordeal was over, I took a deep breath, my breasts rising an inch or two, and gave my hips a swing I had never displayed since my teenage years.

My legs shook only slightly walking down the chapel steps. I had taken far longer than five minutes, but absence of the guard and the now cheery spark in the man’s eyes produced a spring in my step I could not contain.



=Chapter II, entitled "Gerath"=



The Weeping Willow was known for its unique mellow brew that men with women problems could cry into to make it taste sweeter, or sweat into to make it taste stronger. At least, that was what the fable written in nearly illegible hand on the plague by the entrance proclaimed.

I had meant to stop for a light supper and be on my way to deliver the package the Rhymester had bestowed upon my keeping, then search for Almond Row in hopes of coming in contact with Rainyn.

But the light-hearted revelry of the inn, the gradually darkening sky, and the sign over the barkeeper that stated, “We Have Empty Rooms” changed my mind. All around the room men and an occasional woman sat together engrossed in what another had to say. A card match was being played out in the far corner of the cozy room, the only area well-lit; all of the remaining lamps had been dimmed. Soft chords from a musician strumming idly created an ambient feeling of warmth and welcoming.

I looked into the mug before me, half-filled with a delicious tea that still steamed after two hours, and suddenly wondered why the place was so different than the other rowdy, coarse barkeeps dotting the city. The name Weeping Willow did not seem the kind of name that would attract customers, nor was it as evocative as the name of the inn she had seen a street down: The Harem. Peacock feathers had been tied to the hanging sign by it’s doorway.

The serving woman approached me once more with a full-mouthed grin and said happily, “Ma’am, will that be all for you tonight?” She looked to be the sort of lady who worked harder than usual doing something she loved yet earning small pay, though her smile radiated a contentment unmatched by any I had ever seen. I suddenly longed for that kind of stability.

“Yes, thank you… Oh, would you happen to know if this inn has a spare room? I’d like to stay the night.”

“Why, yes, we do! Please wait here a moment,” she whisked off to another room, leaving me to finish my mug.

Returning with a key and a small cash box, the woman requested five. I reached for my money pouch and drew out a handful to count out the required amount and the correct kind of currency. Light from a nearby lamp shone on the coinage, and I was stunned to see that every last one of them was an octagon with a dragon head emblem stamped into it. There were varying sizes, and a few had dark blue stones set as eyes instead of the maroon color I had first seen.

Wordless, I handed her half of the small pile in my hand. The rest I left as a hefty tip beside my now empty tea mug while the serving woman - after looking a little oddly at the money - deposited the pay in the box.

My room was small but sufficient with a single bed, garment hanger, chest and writing desk. The window presented a fine view of the street before the inn, one I found for some reason comforting.

I wasted five minutes beginning to unpack my travel belongings, at last giving up when the knot tying my toiletry items refused to yield. It was the first time in several years I found a firm, slightly lumpy mattress to be as good as any bed. But of course it had been so long since sleeping among the weeds in the Labyrinth that I suspect I had grown a little soft.

-- I sincerely hope you are enjoying the story so far! :) Please tell me periodically if you think it's getting too boring.. I understand that this page is kind of dull, an in-between action page..

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