cured. He was answered by agreeable muttering from his table.
Olin, the tanner from Torin, stood up, more than slightly drunk and spoke loudly. "Anyone who cares about Reth should kill Myr and ask for Geoffrey ae'Magi to take the kingship of us. Who needs a king what is going to attack his own folk out of the blue like that? Just think what'd be like havin' the Sorcerer for a king. We'd not worry 'bout those Darranians who're claiming our mines over in the east." He paused to belch. "'N with the most powerful magician in the world, we could even drive those Uriah spooks outta the wilds. Then we could be rich again."
Not to mention that a thousand marks was more than a man earned in a lifetime of farming or mining, thought Aralorn. The tanner's speech wasn't odd, but Aralorn was surprised how it was received. The patrons of the inn shifted uncomfortably, and chose another topic to speak on; but they didn't disagree with what he'd said. The whole nation had adored their young king, who was promising both as a warrior and a statesman. Two years ago Olin's words would have gotten him into a rough argument or even a fight.
Moving unobtrusively. Aralorn took the slop bucket outside to dump it. That done, she walked to the stables where Sheen was.
She received a lot of harassment from Ren when she took the warhorse with her on assignments because he was too valuable to go unremarked. Talor carried an old coin for luck when he went into battle: it must be much more convenient than a horse.
She did what she could to disguise his worth. He'd long ago learned to limp on command, which helped somewhat. She also left him ungroomed, but anyone with an eye for horses could see that he was no farmer's plug.
Here at the inn, she'd let it be known that he was the only legacy left to her when her elderly protector died. The innkeeper didn't ask her too many questions - just retained the better part of her weekly salary in payment for boarding the horse.
Aralorn scuffed her foot lightly in the dirt as she leaned against the stall door. Sheen moved over to her and shoved his head against her shoulder. Obligingly she rubbed his jaw.
"It's got to be the ae'Magi's doing, Sheen. The last time I saw Myr he was hardly distraught enough to go berserk. I think that it is too convenient that the Assembly decided to place the ae'Magi as Regent, don't you?" The stallion whickered softly, as if in response. Aralorn laughed at his timing and gave him the carrot she'd taken before it would have gone to its death in the greasy pot of stew.
She tangled her hand in the coarse grey-black mane and listened to the munching sounds he made and continued with some enthusiasm. "I could go to Ren with this, but given his present attitude toward the ae'Magi, I don't, know what he would do. Myr needs to be protected from the ae'Magi. Since Myr is the king and immune to magic, he's the ideal hero to stand against the ae'Magi. Someone has to stand against him, and people would hardly follow a mercenary from Sianim.
"I only wish I had some way of contacting Wolf. Knowing him, he probably could tell us exactly where Myr went. It could take me quite a while to find him; I'm not nearly good enough with magic to locate anyone, let alone someone immune to magic." She paused and then smiled. "But I would be much better occupied looking for Myr than struggling with the futile battle to clean the floor of the inn."
Finished with the carrot, Sheen bumped her impatiently, asking for more rubbing. "Well, Sheen, what do you say? Should we abandon our post and go missing-monarch hunting?" The grey head moved enthusiastically against her hand when she caught a particularly itchy spot. Aralorn laughed softly: it looked for all the world as if he were nodding his head in agreement.
When Aralorn decided to move, she moved fast. She snuck into the kitchen and blessed her luck because no one was there. She located a large cloth that was almost clean and folded it to hold such provisions as would keep on a journey: bread, cheese, dried salt meat.
Cautiously she made her way upstairs without meeting anyone and crept into the room that had belonged to the only son of the innkeeper. He'd died