The inn dominated the gentle curve of the road it had been built against. Sturdy stone walls protected a wide courtyard and the large three storey structure could, when viewed through squinted eyes at the end of a long ride, almost be confused for a small castle. Golden light streamed through the ground floor windows dispelling any such notion, but heavy window shutters and reinforced oak doors made these buildings proof against all but the most dedicated attacks.
Brukhan was proud of these inns, one of his Orders efforts at pacifying the unruly North. A large part stemmed from having grown up in one, but he was acutely aware of how anchoring these massive buildings were in the harsh north. They provided contact with the wider world, employment for dozens of people in the local communities and a safe haven to retreat to in the case of raids. Unfortunately, their efforts at establishing more of them were severely curtailed by the local nobility. They were limited to rebuilding and refurbishing the old Imperial inns on a mandate from the Chamberlain, who allowed them to man and manage them independently, providing his order a steady source of funds, but had not managed to build more than a handful of new inns in living memory. Few of the nobles liked having such a powerful reminder of Imperial authority in their lands, especially if they didn’t directly profit from it.
These thoughts and a dozen others occupied his mind as he guided his horse into the stable. Well kept and clean, he noted, giving the young sandy haired stableboy a copper and the reins of his mount. He stretched his back and looked around the well appointed grounds, quickly noticing two large destriers in the furthest stalls.
‘Good bit of horseflesh, that’, Abrecht muttered as he dismounted next to Brukhan. ‘At least we won't have to wait around for our guests to arrive.’
Brukhan didn’t answer but frowned, his mind already preparing for the meeting ahead. The mounts were exceptional, likely worth a fortune, indicating nobleborn Bre- Brothers. He couldn’t hide his grimace at the thought, dealing with nobility had never been his forte. Albrecht, as usual, followed his gaze and quickly understood.
‘I will make introductions and lead the conversation, you play the aloof legendary commander. We have done it a dozen times by now.’
With a quick nod and an annoyed grunt Brukhan stepped out of the stables, quickly stepping aside to let his the Aspirants dismount and lead their horses to the stable. It would be a tight fit for all of them, but they should all be able to spend a warm night under a roof. Alberecht joined him and with little else to do, he stepped forward towards the inn as the sounds of a northern jig and stomping boots started drifting through the courtyard.
Pushing open the deceptively heavy door with its axe marked exterior, he was greeted with a waft of warm air carrying the concentrated musk of unwashed humanity mixed laced with the delectable smell of hot food and a wall of sound dominated by an overly enthusiastic rendition of a local jig accompanied by equally intense clapping and stomping.
What he did not expect to see was a giant bear of a bearded man stomping and spinning like a ard but an ornate pommel, its polished surface catching the reflection of the dancing blaze a few feet away.
Albrecht spotted them quickly too and made a beeline for the table, removing his riding gloves as he approached.
‘Brother, be welcome to the North!’, he called, raising his voice to be heard over the din of the common room. ‘I am Brother Albrecht and this is Commander Brukhan of the Evantine Priory. We are glad to see you arrived safely!’ He stretched out his arm in welcome as the stranger rose, his right hand stretching to grasp Albrecht while his left grasped his hilt and prevented the blade from becoming tangled as he rose and returned the greeting.
‘Brother Guiscard at your service.’ His voice was low and raspy, forcing them both to lean forward to hear him. ‘That there is Brother Onfroi.’ To Brukhard’s surprise he pointed to the dancing giant who seemed to have finally noticed them, and was finally making his way over, his spinning over, but his feet still stomping to the rhythm and the young maid still sat on his massive shoulder. ‘And this blossom here is Alix!’
He punctuated his statement with a small shrug as he effortlessly lowered the beaming and breathless girl to the floor. Brukhard noticed that while his sleeves were rolled up, his right arm was bound in bandages as though he were injured, despite them being suspiciously clean.
Alberech cast him a quick puzzled glance, the image of the jolly giant as far from what they had imagined their guest would.
‘Run along and fetch us some of this delicious drink, mon cheri,’ the gestured towards the kitchen with his flagon.
‘For the last time, it is MEAD, you southern brute!’, the girl playfully yelled at him, then yelped and scampered off laughing as Onfroi playfully scowled and swatted her behind.
‘Have a seat, have a seat,’ the giant gestured as he carefully folded himself into the comparatively small chair as it creaked ominously. ‘We have been waiting for you less than a day,’ he smiled. ‘Normally I would applaud your timeliness, but here…’ He left the rest unspoken as he turned his head to follow the barmaid with his eyes. ‘Here I would not have minded a few more nights,’ he said chuckling.
Brukhard and Albrecht exchanged anther confused glance. The oaths of celibacy for all orders, not just theirs were sworn at Initiation. He was not naive and knew men to stumble and neglect these oaths from time to time, but to do so so openly and flagrantly in front of a Commander? Especially for a Southerner?
‘You must excuse Onfroi, Brothers,’ Guiscards shrewd eyes had followed their unspoken exchange. ‘He has taken a more… liberal… interpretation of the oath of celibacy. He believes it refers to marriage rather than… intercourse.’ He waved his hand awkwardly.
Onfroi, unfazed added. ‘Ah! It is not just me, Brothers. I have sent letters to all prominent scholars on this topic! Not just to those of the Collegia but to the Theist and Deist Churches as well! You should see the unholy shitstorm of argument, debates and outright screaming matches this question has elicited! I hear there was even a sanctioned duel fought over it!’ He laughed uproariously, his eyes still tracking the barmaid behind the bar.
‘But duty calls, my brothers, and I will have none say that I shy from it! We are off!’ He raised his tankard and bade them toast.
‘Incidentally, where are we off to? I have little to do here but babysit you, report back to my superiors and let things cool down while I am away.’ He spoke these words with a merry glint to his eyes, seeking to rob the sting from the insult of his offhand comment.
