Total pages in book: 33
Estimated words: 32461 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 162(@200wpm)___ 130(@250wpm)___ 108(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 32461 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 162(@200wpm)___ 130(@250wpm)___ 108(@300wpm)
Torden's gaze moved over her. Lori was pretty enough. bright eyes, pleasant smile. Skinny, but he didn’t mind, most women would do. Except the smelly ones. He wrinkled his nose at the thought. Those he would not touch.
He shook his head. “Nay.”
Her smile disappeared and she straightened with a huff and walked away.
Torden didn’t mean to insult her, but he had no regret as he watched her go. Then he cast another glance around the room before settling in.
Lori returned with his ale, setting it down with considerably less enthusiasm than she'd shown before.
Torden slid an extra coin across the table.
Her good humor returned immediately.
He lifted the tankard and took a long swallow. The ale was good. He had a corner to himself. He knew no one, no one knew him, and no one needed anything from him.
Peace at last.
“I bought the last round!”
“Nay, you didn't!”
Torden was about to enjoy another swallow of ale but stopped with the tankard halfway to his mouth. His eyes closed briefly. It was no concern of his. He took a swallow and tried to ignore the raised voices.
“You bought the round before last.”
“And the last one.”
“You're too drunk to remember what you bought.”
A chair scraped across the floor.
Torden kept his attention on his ale.
“Call me drunk again and I'll knock you on your arse.”
“Drunk.”
Several men laughed.
Torden sighed. So much for peace.
He glanced toward the two men. They stood near the hearth, close enough to trade blows but neither looking particularly eager to throw the first one. One was thick through the middle and red-faced from drink. The other was younger and taller, his crooked grin doing nothing to improve his companion's temper.
Neither had reached for a weapon.
Torden dismissed them. Let them argue themselves hoarse.
Lori approached carrying a bowl of stew, and Torden's attention immediately returned to more important matters.
She placed it before him along with a generous chunk of dark bread. “Anything else?”
“Nay,” Torden said, his focus on the stew.
Her smile suggested she hoped his answer might change. But it didn't, so she left him to his meal.
Torden tore off a piece of bread and dipped it into the thick gravy. The smell of beef and onions reminded him how long it had been since he'd eaten.
He was bringing it to his mouth when the inn door flew open hard enough to strike the wall.
Everyone turned.
A petite woman stood in the doorway.
Torden smelled her from across the room.
“Gods’ teeth,” he muttered.
The odor swept through the inn with her, strong enough to have one man gagging and another hurriedly covering his nose with his sleeve.
“What the devil happened to you?” a fellow called out.
“Get outside!” yelled another.
“Close the bloody door behind you!” another chimed in, holding his nose.
The woman paid them no heed.
Mud streaked the hem of her skirt and splattered her boots, but the dark, wet stain covering one side of her from hip to ankle appeared responsible for the stench filling the room. She wasn’t familiar to him which meant she was not from around here.
Her eyes swept over the patrons and stopped on the younger of the two men who had been arguing.
His crooked grin vanished.
The woman pointed at him. “Niall!”
His companion immediately stepped away. “I had nothing to do with it.”
“But Niall knew exactly what he was doing,” she accused, shaking her fist at him.
Niall's grin returned, though less confidently this time. “You should have moved out of the way.”
“I was off the road.”
“Not far enough.”
Her cheeks heated with anger. “You deliberately drove your cart through that rut filled with horse piss.”
A few chuckles sounded.
The woman's head snapped toward them and the laughter died.
Niall wasn't as wise.
He laughed outright. “You should have seen yourself, Ismera.”
Torden shook his head. Horse piss. No wonder she stunk. He had no intention of going near her. Let the innkeeper do his job. He picked up his mug and sniffed to clear his nostrils of the odor before taking a swallow.
“I'll give you something to laugh about,” she warned.
She started toward Niall.
The innkeeper appeared with a broom. “Out, Ismera.”
It was about time the innkeeper stepped up and did his job, Torden thought, watching the exchange.
She sidestepped him without slowing.
He moved in front of her again. “Whatever quarrel you've got with Niall, take it outside. You're fouling the whole inn.”
“I'll leave when I'm finished.”
“You'll leave now.” He pressed the broom against her middle and tried to steer her toward the door.
Ismera slapped it away. “Stop poking me.”
“Then move.”
“I am moving.”
“The wrong way,” the innkeeper yelled and pointed at the door.
She darted around him.
The innkeeper caught up and blocked her again.
Ismera went left.
He followed.
She went right.
He thrust the broom in front of her.
Several patrons began laughing.
Torden continued watching despite his determination not to become involved. The lass was quick and furious. Not a good combination.
She tried once more to get around the innkeeper, only to have him block her path.