Page 67 of Peregrine's Call
A barmaid brought them food and ale. Predictably, Pierce complained about it with every breath.
“This is appalling,” he said, poking at the meat in front of him. “I’m sitting in a tavern, drinking some half-brewed swill, and dining off tables so filthy they might as well place the food on the floor. If I’d known, I’d have chosen the woods.”
“I doubt that,” Tav muttered.
Robin saw how irritated Tav was and knew it wouldn’t take much for the knight to do something physically painful to the lord. How on earth could she shut Pierce up?
As if delivered by an angel whispering in her ear, the answer came to her. Robin almost smiled at the simplicity of it. Rooting around in the small satchel she carried, she found what she needed.
“If I go plead for the innkeeper’s finest ale, will you drink it instead of complaining?” Robin begged Pierce.
“I make no promises. I have grave doubts about any ale from this sort of place.”
Robin stood up and made her way to where the other barmaid was tidying up. In a low voice, she asked as nicely as she could for a quality beverage, offering to pay more than what even the finest ale would be worth. The maid raised an eyebrow at the coin, and then nodded. “Just because it’s you asking, mistress, and not that pig.”
A few moments later, Robin bore a full tankard back to the table. “Here. A special batch of dark ale. Suitable for a lord.”
Pierce took a sip, and his sour expression melted into pleasure. “Nowthisis worth drinking.”
“I’m so glad,” she murmured. Tav looked on silently, obviously annoyed at Pierce’s high-handedness and Robin’s eagerness to appease him.
Pierce drank more. “I’d buy this from a brewer to ship to Malvern,” he said, licking his lips as he stared into the tankard. “A trifle sweet, but good. Very good.”
“I hope so, considering the cost.”
“This is why money is important,” he said, taking another quaff.
“So that means you’ll reimburse me?” Robin asked. “I paid with my own coin.”
“Oh, don’t fret, my little Robin,” he said with a wink. “I’ll pay you back in one way or another.”
Robin sighed. Why did Pierce persist in his flirting, long after they’d left Willesden? She’d made it clear she wasn’t interested. Hadn’t she?
A seed of doubt sprouted in her heart. Though she certainly didn’t want to ever go to Pierce’s bed, she hadn’t been as forceful in refusing his frequent hints as she normally would be. With all the men who’d propositioned her before—from the time when she was barely more than a child—Robin turned them down fast and flat. If they didn’t get the message at first, she had no compunction about following up with a threat of violence.
But it was different with Pierce. They needed his cooperation, and in any case, Robin had been trying to act more like a lady, and ladies were not supposed to threaten men with death when they got too attentive. Perhaps she’d mistakenly led him on by remaining in the room when he took his bath. All she wanted was to ensure he didn’t harass the poor maid, but he probably assumed Robin couldn’t resist him.
“What’s your problem?” Pierce asked her.
Robin had been lost in thought, and both men were watching her.
“Nothing,” she said hastily. “I’m just tired.”
“It’s been a long day,” Tav said with just a hint of dryness as he glanced at Pierce, who’d made the day feel much longer for everybody.
Pierce yawned. “Indeed. Didn’t feel tired until you mentioned it, but…”
Suddenly, Pierce slumped forward onto the table. The now-empty tankard was knocked to the floor and rolled slowly from side to side. The others in the main room all looked over at the collapsed man, their eyes widening.
Robin leaned over and held her fingers at his throat. “He’s not dead,” she informed the room at large.
A murmur of disappointment rippled through the crowd. The barmaid in particular looked as if she hoped for a different outcome.
Tav frowned at the prone figure. “Are you sure? He was talking a moment ago.”
“He’s just unconscious. He’ll stay that way till morning.”
“How do you know?”
