Crown of One Hundred Kings (Nine Kingdoms Trilogy #1) - Rachel Higginson Page 0,14

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“You don’t belong here,” he snarled. His booming voice drew the attention of several surrounding tables.

My cheeks flushed. Glancing around the room, I noticed that most of the patrons were male and stood as tall and thick as he.

Scratch that, all of the patrons were male.

I straightened my shoulders. Chairs scraped against the food-littered ground as more men rose to their feet.

“What’s the matter?” I heard one of them ask.

“There’s a girl in here,” growled someone else.

A hostile rumble rippled through the room.

What did they have against girls?

“I take it you have a no female policy?” I asked the original behemoth.

“No girls after twilight.” His meaty fist jabbed toward the door. “You need to leave.”

My shoulders sagged with a sigh. I opened my mouth to argue, but Oliver pushed through the crowd and appeared at my side. “We’re travelers,” he explained. “We weren’t aware of your rules.”

The expression on the original man’s face shifted from furious to irritated. Apparently, they’d dealt with unwanted females before. He took a step back, but still pointed toward the door.

“Females are not allowed outside after dusk,” he huffed as I stood.

“Why not?” The words slipped out before I could temper them.

He leaned forward and I inhaled the sour smell of ale and animals clinging to him. “The demons prefer the girlies.” A lascivious grin lifted the wet corners of his mouth. “They taste sweeter than the menfolk.”

“Demons?” Oliver gulped.

“That haunt these woods,” the man explained and the other men laughed as though he’d made a joke. It wasn’t a happy laugh or even a taunting one. A bite of nerves clung to the sound, causing chills to race down my spine. “The demons would like to find you, lassie,” he said to me. “They’d love to happen upon you while you’re stumbling about in the Blood Woods in the dark. Love to snatch you up and ferry you away to Denamon.”

I felt light-headed. I wasn’t scared of demons or the Blood Woods or stumbling around in the dark. And yet these men believed in the curse of this forest stronger than anyone I’d ever met. And they lived here. This was their homeland.

The man’s attention swiveled back to Oliver. “Get her inside somewhere soon or you’ll lose your pretty companion to the Woods.”

“Th-thank you,” Oliver stuttered.

My fingers wrapped around the strap to my satchel and squeezed until they felt cold and stiff. It was probably futile to point out that I was currently inside some place safe and that he was the one sending us back into the dark unknown.

I glanced at the faces of the men gathered around one more time. No, we wouldn’t find help here.

Oliver took my wrist in shaking fingers and yanked me toward the door. “Do you think if I asked nicely, he would give us directions to the nearest temple?”

I pressed my lips together to keep from laughing. I couldn’t tell if Oliver was jesting or not.

Looking back at the stern-faced ogre I shook my head. “I doubt it. Ten to one odds, he would prefer it if the demons found us as soon as we stepped outside.”

Oliver snorted. “Not helpful.”

“Did you say you were travelers?”

I jumped, startled by the gruff voice near the tavern door. His voice cut under the guffaws of the men watching us leave and if I had been less jumpy, I might not have heard him at all.

I looked up to see a man leaning against the door frame. He was almost entirely hidden by a black cloak with a hood draped low over his eyes. I could just make out a scruffy beard covering the lower half of his jaw.

“Who?” Oliver stared wide-eyed at the man. “Us?”

“Are you travelers?” the cloaked man repeated slowly.

“Y-yes,” Oliver answered for us. “We’re on our way to… to… to visit an aunt.”

I elbowed my friend in the side and found great satisfaction in his low grunt. But honestly, Oliver. Our aunt?

“Papers,” the stranger demanded.

I studied him and tried not to panic. The rest of the men of Tenovia were built as thick as their trees. They were made for hard work in their forests, chopping down ancient wood, and hauling lumber to all corners of the realm. The stranger didn’t have that build or height, yet he was no less threatening.

His cloak didn’t help. I imagined all manner of weapons tucked into the folds. His gloved hands rested on the hilt of something that promised to be especially sharp. And he kept his face tilted away