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Chapter 52: Little Roma Couldn’t Possibly Be This Reckless
Roma tilted her small face upward, gazing at the wooden sign hanging above. The cool night air lent her cheeks a pale hue, tinged with an adorable blush. Even though it was early summer, the temperature in these high-altitude regions remained frigid after sunset.
The weather-beaten wooden sign, long since darkened to black by wind and rain, bore the image of a galloping horse painted in uneven strokes. The words written beneath were unfamiliar to her, but Roma guessed this must be the place she sought. Her hands rested protectively on her precious leather satchel as she hesitated for a moment, scuffing the ground with her round-toed boots—was this really it? The so-called Galloping Horse Inn?
In the distance, the tolling of warning bells echoed through the night. A patrol of guards marched past her, their armor clinking softly. Roma wasn’t particularly afraid; instead, she curiously watched them until they disappeared around the corner. When the bells finally ceased, she let out a small sigh of relief before turning back and stepping into the inn.
The owner of the Galloping Horse Inn was a dwarf, just as the stories described—his beard flowing down like ripened wheat, braided intricately with numerous plaits bound together by brass rings. Each ring told a story, engraved with mysterious patterns, though they were actually runes from the Dwarven language. These inscriptions bore the names of families, each ring representing a lineage. Renowned clans such as “Firebeard,” “Stoneprint,” and “Jeweled Splendor” could even afford to wear gold rings, both valuable and weighty.
These rings, much like the dwarves’ beards, were a source of immense pride. With histories stretching over a thousand years, dwarves wore them proudly, the metallic jingle accompanying their every step. But dwarves were rare in human society, and Gorn Barborossa Rockhall, the innkeeper, had capitalized on this scarcity. He deliberately dressed himself as a figure of importance, spreading rumors about his wealth and status while occasionally denying them in public. Curious travelers flocked to meet this mysterious dwarf lord, and Gorn’s business flourished accordingly.
Today, Gorn wore a silk robe adorned with three ruby rings, one cat's eye ring, and an emerald ring on his stubby fingers. His nephew—a human, naturally—stood beside him. Gorn, having established himself among humans, maintained connections within their world. How a dwarf came to have a human relative was a tale that could take three days and nights to unravel, so we’ll focus instead on the young man currently serving in the White Mane Legion. He pressed firmly on Gorn’s shoulder, whispering instructions. Another companion stood nearby, suggesting they’d been here for some time.
“So you’re saying if I see a little girl, no matter what she asks for, I should agree immediately?” Gorn grumbled, shaking his head. “But why? What if she demands my entire fortune? No, no, this idea is absurd.”
“Uncle Gorn, listen to me,” the young man pleaded. “I’m not asking you to give her your fortune. Just prepare a carriage for her without raising suspicion. Then ready another one for us to follow her discreetly.”
“Only carriages?” Gorn squinted suspiciously at his nephew.
“Yes, only carriages.”
“Fine. Will she pay?”
The young soldier sighed, knowing his uncle’s nature all too well. “Of course she will! But don’t haggle too aggressively. Don’t scare her off. If you help, Uncle Gorn, this success will be mine, understand?”
“I still don’t fully grasp it, but do you fancy this girl? If so, I might consider giving you a 5% discount.”
“No, no! It’s not like that!” The young man groaned. “She’s actually a spy for Madara. They escaped from the dungeon and are likely trying to flee the city. Captain Luc Besson sent us to monitor every possible route out of town.”
“Then why don’t you simply arrest her?” Gorn asked, perplexed.
Parker slapped his forehead in exasperation. “Uncle Gorn, she has accomplices. To capture them all, we need to lower their guard and tail them quietly. Do you understand now?”
“Still unclear…”
“Alright, in short, relax, Uncle Gorn. Whatever money she doesn’t pay, I’ll cover.”
“Lower my guard and fulfill her requests, eh? Now that makes sense.” The dwarf nodded thoughtfully.
Despite his penny-pinching ways, Gorn was efficient. He quickly summoned a servant to make arrangements, then hurried back to ask, “It’s done. When will the girl arrive?”
“I don’t know. Hopefully, she comes here first. I can’t let Glanson think less of me.” The young man sighed, only to feel his companion urgently patting his shoulder. Looking outside, he leapt up in excitement. “That’s her! She’s here! Quick, Uncle, it’s your turn!”
“Relax, lad. Stop shoving me like a sack of potatoes. I’ve been in business for thirty years—I know what I’m doing.” Gorn couldn’t resist boasting even at the last moment.
………
When Roma entered the inn, she couldn’t help but glance around curiously. She’d never seen architecture so heavily adorned with stone before, yet the stonework walls and pillars felt strangely familiar. Roma was busy taking in the sights when a dwarf with a beard nearly brushing the floor appeared before her.
“Are you a gnome?” she asked innocently.
“No, I’m a dwarf,” the innkeeper corrected sternly.
“Short gentleman, are you the owner here?”
“It’s dwarf, not short person. Understand, lass? And yes, I am the owner.”
“But I’m looking to rent a carriage. Do you offer that service?”
“Obviously, or what do you think I’m doing here?”
“Will I need to pay?” Roma continued to examine the inn curiously.
“Of course! Business thrives on clear transactions. We charge based on rental duration. However, the Galloping Horse Inn generally doesn’t rent carriages for trips exceeding one day. Additionally, any damage caused by the customer will incur compensation. Our drivers also reserve the right to refuse commands endangering their safety…” Gorn launched into a lengthy explanation.
“How much for half a day?”
“Thirty torr.”
Roma pulled out a gray-blue pouch, shaking it until two, then three copper coins fell onto the counter. She looked up innocently. “But I only have this much. Can I still rent a carriage?”
“You could rent a wheel…” Gorn started to say but remembered his nephew’s words and reluctantly amended, “Well, though it’s less than ideal—lass, when do you need the carriage?”
“Right away. How do I find my carriage?”
“It’s parked in the rear. Here’s your token. Show it to the driver, and he’ll guide you. Shall I escort you there?”
“No need. Some friends are waiting outside. Can we settle now?”
“Certainly! Clear transactions are my favorite.” Gorn wiped his brow, feeling this deal went against his principles. Still, considering his nephew’s promise of reimbursement, he begrudgingly agreed.
Meanwhile, Parker and his companion hid in the kitchen, watching Roma exit the inn with a satisfied smile. They rushed out to question Gorn. “Well? Did it work?”
“Of course! Have you forgotten who I am? I once traded with greedy ogres!” Gorn recounted the details smugly. But Parker groaned, slapping his forehead. “By Marsha’s grace, Uncle Gorn, what have you done?! She’ll suspect us now. She won’t take the carriage!”
“What?”
“What merchant gives discounts like that? You were far too generous, Uncle Gorn! She must have suspected something from the start. What else did she say?”
“She said she’d consult her companions.”
“Companions?” Parker exchanged glances with his friend and bolted after her, leaving Gorn shouting behind them. “Wait! You brats, where’s my money?”
He huffed indignantly. “Young people these days have no respect for elders.” Turning back, he saw a servant approaching. “Master, the carriage you arranged has departed.”
“My arranged carriage? What carriage?”
“The one you instructed us to provide regardless of her requests.”
“Hmm… That young lady was quite charming, wasn’t she? Is she Young Master Parker’s lover?” the servant mused aloud.
“What?!” Gorn glared daggers at him.
……..
“Where to, lass?”
The carriage rattled forward, its wheels spinning as the scenery blurred past. Roma marveled at the novelty of it all. Soon, a voice called from outside.
“I love admiring landscapes. Let’s head to the southern gate first, then loop around to the northern gate. Any notable sights along the way?”
“Indeed. We’ll pass by Lord Everton’s estate.”
“Everton? Who’s that?”
“Lord Everton, a renowned hero…”
…….
Brandon and Chael climbed to the spire of Usson Castle, peering down with bated breath. Below, a sea of private soldiers surrounded the castle, torches flickering like fireflies. The encircling flames resembled a dragon coiled around the castle’s moat.
The private army had breached the gates, storming the outer courtyard and advancing toward the keep. The earlier explosion caused by the wind spell had alerted the nobles, prompting preparations for a full assault.
Brandon and his young wizard squire exchanged uneasy glances. Escape seemed nearly impossible—even with the aid of gargoyles, carrying two passengers wouldn’t allow for significant altitude.
Brandon held his breath, pointing nervously at another line of fire in the distance. “Do you see that? The White Mane Legion is approaching.”
“I wish I hadn’t, my lord.”
“That makes two of us.”
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