Hellrien woke up with a headache. Grunting, she got up from the bed, moved over to the window and pulled the curtains aside. Dammit, it was almost noon already. Hellrien spent a moment eyeing the facade of the tavern on the other side of the street and smiled at her hazy memories from last night. Naked, she stood there for a while watching the traffic down the street, then moved over to the table to wash up. Soap smarted in the red cuts and scratches she had acquired on her arms recently, probably from falling or bumping against the walls in her room last night. With a bluff smile she toweled her body and quickly dressed up. After a quick breakfast she walked into the market square.
Hellrien spent a couple of hours loitering around the square. She kept an eye on the town gate, but there were no visitors. She wandered up and down the streets of Trestlebridge aimlessly for a while, then ate dinner and went to sleep for a few hours. After nightfall she went back to the town square. Lanterns illuminated the streets well enough for her to see. Suddenly a lonesome rider rode through the gate. The blond-haired horseman dismounted and walked his horse to the stables, and Hellrien followed him into town like a shadow. He was maybe an inch taller than Hellrien, but because of the darkness she couldn’t see any other characteristics about him. He went into the Spick & Span inn a little ways down the street from the boarding house and vanished inside. Hellrien hid in the ruined remnants of a burned-down building opposite the street. From there she watched as a light turned on in one of the third floor windows. Quickly she sneaked behind the inn to investigate the back yard. There was a back door and a path that led down the riverside, where Lily had her cottage. If the man wanted to take the path down or Lily popped up for a visit through the back door, they could not be seen from the main road. Hellrien frowned. The only place where she could hide and see both the front and the back of the inn was a narrow alley between the Spick & Span and some other building, behind the begonia bushes. She was also fairly protected from the eyes of anyone going down the path behind the inn because of the tall grass and downward-sloping ground, at least as long as she didn’t stand up.
Somebody was playing a lute somewhere nearby. The minstrel was not bad at his trade, the melody was easy on the ears and the tune was catchy. The light stayed turned on for an hour before it went out. Hellrien watched through the shrubs as the minstrel strolled past down the street, still playing, heading towards the bridge. Walking and playing at the same time was beyond this minstrel’s capabilities, alas, as now he did pluck the chord in a wrong way, producing a loud shriek from his instrument. The minstrel stopped to the lights and looked around. Hellrien raised an eyebrow as she realized that the minstrel was Ingrandor. He kept strolling towards the bridge, now and then producing those horrible false notes that irked the villagers, most of whom were trying to sleep. Hellrien could hear curses, banging of the shutters and splashes here and there as contents of slop buckets were tossed on the street. None of the filth hit anywhere near the stoic performer, who continued his steady stroll, unperturbed by his unappreciative audience. When he reached the bridge, though, he was stopped by the guards and angrily turned back. Hellrien heard something about noise attracting orcs. So Ingrandor strolled back up the street, plucking the strings of his lute even harder this time.
”My good men!” he said in a loud voice. ”How fine is that establishment over there?”
By this time Hellrien was sure that Ingrandor’s peculiar performance was aimed at her; the sellsword wanted to make contact. But she didn’t want to give away her hiding place in the alley to the many eyes now undoubtedly fixed at Ingrandor. She was also reluctant to leave her post and risk losing sight of her prey, whom she presumed could be none other than Seyton Redweed. Ingrandor had stopped for a conversation with a couple of the night guards. ”Can one make coins there?” Hellrien could hear his loud voice clearly, but couldn’t make out the response of the guards. And now he was walking towards the inn again, straight towards Hellrien. He stopped at the door, almost within touching distant from Hellrien behind the begonias. He pushed open the door to take a peek inside.
”Pssst!” she whispered to attract his attention.
Ingrandor stopped and looked at the begonia bush. He frowned and motioned towards the gate with a nod of his head. ”It's too late... they'll be asleep now.... not good for music”, he muttered and walked off. Hellrien could hear him plucking the strings in a gentle ballad.
Hellrien growled, reluctant to leave her post, but there was no mistaking about Ingrandor’s intentions. She got up and sneaked through the alley, going around the village through the back. When she had reached the stables she spotted a dark silhouette sitting up by the road rising east of Trestlebridge, beyond the Shelton residence, playing his lute to make sure Hellrien would not miss him. Hellrien sneaked through the yard and climbed the path up to him. Ingrandor kept playing his lute quietly, keeping his head low, face concealed behind the slouch of his hat. When he heard Hellrien approaching he plucked hard, breaking one string, and then stopped playing.
”Good evening”, he said.
”Evening.” Hellrien turned to take in the view to Trestlebridge. Where they were standing she could clearly see the back of the Spick & Span inn and the road leading down to the riverside, but the front and the main street was hidden behind densely built townhouses. ”Have you been here the whole time?”
”Yes, playing the traveler or the musician. I managed to get my hands on this lute two days ago. Fiontann sent a letter.”
”Yeah, he sent a letter to me too and said you were coming. I spotted you the first day, but I haven't seen you since. Have you gotten any sleep?”
”Don't worry about me, I have, here and there. I have my means... you didn't run into any trouble, did you?”
”No, no troubles. But Fion told me in his letter yesterday that this Seyton Redweed character could be arriving any day now, so I've been keeping an eye on the arrivals. A couple of hours ago somebody rode in and took a room in the Spick & Span, over there.”
”Yes, I saw too”, said Ingrandor, looking in the direction Hellrien was pointing and nodded. ”I've been trying to stay at a close proximity to the inn to make sure that no one's after you if they suspect anything. My role is to watch your back.”
”So I reckon we'd best keep watch if he comes or goes. There are not many places where I can keep watch at the front and back at the same time.”
”Leave that to me. You focus on your task. Nice dress, by the way”, Ingrandor grinned teasingly and lifted his lute. ”I could compose a ballad for you!”
”Just tryin' to blend in to my surroundings”, Hellrien said self-consciously. ”And that is my task - to find out where the treasure is. I suppose he will be meeting someone here, either in the tavern or down the river. Or perhaps somebody will go meet him. Either way, we need to keep eyes on him.”
”And that we will. Luckily it's a very small village, and there is almost nowhere to go for someone. If I stay close to the main road I see everything and everyone. I feel like an old lady in Bree... seeing things, hearing things. Disgusting.”
But you can’t see the back from the main road, Hellrien thought. ”Problem is, it might be a long wait”, she said. ”Perhaps we should consider taking turns to let the other sleep now and then. Or even ask for help from the Dawn barracks.”
”Let's give it some days first. I could always go and rent a room and take a look inside. Try to employ myself to entertain them. I'm good with words.”
”I was thinking spending the night in the alley. I can see if anyone goes to either direction from there.”
”When's the last time you slept?”
”Today. I took a nap in the afternoon, and slept late too, so I'm well-rested now.”
Ingrandor nodded and looked at her up and down, somewhat incredulously. ”I think I should give it a try. Get in, entertain them, see who is inside with whom. Maybe ask questions too if they trust me.”
”Tonight? I reckon everyone's sleep there by now. It's past midnight.”
”Tomorrow. Tonight we can rest as well I reckon. It's not that they'll do something and we'll miss it. No one came to town either.”
”I am well-rested and couldn't sleep now anyway. I think it's important to keep an eye on what's going on. But let's say we meet again tomorrow morning and decide what to do then? How about that?”
”I am fine with that. I could do with some sleep. Carrying this thing all day and playing and walking is tiring I tell you.”
”Alright. How much sleep do you need? Would you be up at dawn?”
”When the sun rises, Ingrandor rises. I need to be fresh to perform at an inn.”
”So we'll meet at dawn. Where?”
”At the market. I'll come composing a ballad for you, in a not so polite way. Amongst a disagreement we can share a few words and then settle it somewhere.”
”Alright. We will meet tomorrow then. Go get some shut-eye, Ingrandor. Good night.”
”Take care, Hellrien.”
Hellrien returned to her watching post, but nothing happened. A couple of cats began meowing somewhere behind the alley. Hellrien waited and waited and quivered like a dog as the new day started dawning. When the day broke the cats started a fight behind her. The town woke up with the sun. Hellrien emerged from her nook and stretched the stiffness out of her body. She headed her steps toward the market square. Ingrandor was there, standing by some crates, checking them out and pestering a merchant with a barrage of questions. The merchant next to him seemed bored and irritated and replied to his questions briefly, obviously hoping for this bothersome ’just-looking’ customer to go away. Hellrien went to stand by the fountain in the middle of the market square and stared into the water, as if hypnotized by her own reflection. Ingrandor shut the crate and made to leave. He spotted Hellrien and grinned. He pulled the lute from his back, plucked the remaining strings and began singing.
”There was once a maiden,
by the fountain.
Looking at herself,
making the sun above her hide.
She is one of a kind,
one of this kind.
One of my kind!”
Hellrien looked up the fountain and glared at the minstrel, frowning. ”Hey! Watch your mouth, minstrel, or I'm going to give you an earful!”
”She gives she says an earful!
But I give, I say, a mouthful!
Come maiden come and take it.
Trust me, you won't regret it!”
”I warned you already!” Hellrien yelled at the mischievous bard, shaking her fist. ”Don't make me come over there!”
”Come to me sweet-lip maiden,
I will take you to heaven.
Come fair wench,
your thirst I'll quench.”
Hellrien started to strode towards Ingrandor with her fists clenched by her sides, and Ingrandor retreated, walking backwards as he still kept singing and playing his instrument. Hellrien burst into a sprint, chasing Ingrandor behind the City Hall. She could hear some laughing and hooting at their performance coming from the market square.
”Oh, hey. How great a composer am I?”
”How's that for a performance?” Hellrien grinned, holding in laughter at the silliness of it all.
”I applaud!” Ingrandor grinned, bowing before her.
”I hope you had a good sleep. Nothing happened during the night. So what do we do next?”
”I get to entertain the patrons of the inn with my skills in wordmaking. And you can get some day sleep.”
”Okay, sounds good. I think I need a few hours of sleep.”
”Time to get them then. I will present myself and see if I can get to work on a regular basis if possible. Between us… extra coin!”
Hellrien grinned. ”I will be back about noonish then. Is there a need for us to meet then?”
”If there is something to tell you I will pluck my strings hard. You can also come and ask me to play a certain song for two coppers. Or one.”
”Alright”, Hellrien said. ”Alright, sounds good. See you later then.”
”Have a good rest. I'll go find a new set of strings.”
Hellrien went back to the boarding house, undressed and slept for four hours.
