Page 16 of Witchbane

I handed the boy the reins and patted Warrior on his muscular neck. ‘There’s a penny in it for you if I’m satisfied he’s been well cared for,’ I said quietly to the boy before following the man.

As I stepped inside I removed my hat and voices stilled, drinking vessels stopped in midair. A couple of the men gave me sideways looks but most kept their faces turned from me. I was used to receiving strange looks from people – it was part of my life as the Witchfinder’s son – but this seemed different somehow and I wondered if word had spread about me investigating Lord Thistlebury’s daughter.

‘Show him up to his room, Bridy,’ the man instructed a freckle-faced girl of about fifteen. Her face reddened and she stared at me. ‘Bridy, now!’

She scampered past me and up the stairs. ‘This way, sir,’ she said her voice small and high pitched.

I looked about me before doing as she asked, catching the eye of a dark-haired older man who, unlike the others, didn’t take his gaze from me. I gave him a nod but it was not reciprocated. Clearly I wasn’t welcome in this place and it made me wonder why. I climbed the stairs and entered the bedroom at the top to the left. I stared at the small, sparsely furnished room and saw a lumpy-looking bed, a small table and rickety-looking chair in front of the window, and a washstand. Everything looked ready to collapse but it would have to do.

‘Would you like something to eat or drink, sir?’

I turned to her and smiled. ‘Beer and whatever your landlady has prepared will do me fine.’

She didn’t respond but walked over to the washstand, picked up the pitcher and left the room.

I sat on the bed. It was rock-hard with barely any stuffing left in the mattress, but it was better than sleeping by a roadside or traipsing all the way home only to return in the morning.

I was impatient to undress and get into bed and hoped she wouldn’t be long bringing me my food and drink.

‘Here you go, sir,’ she said, pushing the door open with her bustle and carrying in a tray with a steaming plate of food and a lidded tankard. ‘I’ll leave these here and bring your water straight up.’

‘Thank you,’ I said, opening the window to let much-needed fresh air into the stuffy room. Unfortunately, along with it came more of the noise from the patrons in the bar. I took off my boots, pulled the chair back from the small table and sat, eager to fill my stomach and ease my dry throat.

The food didn’t look or smell very appealing, but I needed to eat, so I took a mouthful of flavourless mutton stew. The meat was tough and I realised I was too tired to continue chewing it, so, spitting it out, I tore a piece from the dry bread on the tray and soaked it in the watery liquid. I attempted to think of other ways to track down the woman my father had tasked me to find, aware that the urgency increased each day closer to the full moon, when we suspected witches traditionally met.

It shouldn’t be this difficult to find someone, surely? Why did no one seem to know of her? There was something off about the situation but I couldn’t work out what it might be. I swallowed the last piece of bread and leant back in my chair to drink my ale.

Then it dawned on me. I needed to ignore my weariness, put my boots back on and go downstairs to the bar and find someone with information on the woman’s whereabouts.

The noise from the bar increased when I left my room and went downstairs, but quietened somewhat as I reached the lower steps, several people turning to watch me, some whispering comments to their companion. Spotting a space next to the dark-haired man I had seen earlier at the bar, I decided to go and stand there.

‘A good day to you,’ I said, interested to see his reaction. Out of all the people there, he had been the one to strike me the most for some reason. I saw a look of distrust in his eyes, or maybe it was something else.

‘A good afternoon to you, sir.’

The landlord reached out to take the man’s tankard. ‘Here, let me fill that for you, Pierre.’

The man turned his attention from me, thanked the landlord and waited as the vessel was filled.

I had no intention of letting him ignore me that easily and decided to ask him about the woman.

‘Are you from these parts?’

He didn’t bother looking at me. ‘Since birth.’

He was a local. This was a good start and my hopes rose. ‘Maybe you can help me then.’

Still he didn’t look my way.

Sensing he was hoping I’d be put off by his attitude, I continued. ‘I’m looking for a woman by the name of Rue Underwood.’

There was an immediate hush. Slowly the man’s head turned towards me. I had got his attention. His expression didn’t change but there was something threatening about his demeanour. ‘Why do you presume to ask me about this woman?’

It was clear he was angry for some reason, though he was trying to hide it.

‘I have asked several people about her,’ I explained. ‘I don’t presume anything other than that you might know of her, or her whereabouts.’

His gaze hardened. ‘I do not.’