My Heroes Have Always Been Hitmen (Humorous Romantic Shorts) (Greatest Hits Mysteries) (12 page)

Iona
and I climbed off the horses, and I tossed the boy a coin. He looked at it, and his eyes grew wide. A smile crossed his features making him look younger than ever.

"
Tell Da you want the corner room," Taran said with a wink. "That's the best one." And with that, he was gone.

The door complained
heavily as we entered the inn. The main room was filled with people sitting at rough-hewn tables and benches, but it was warm from a roaring fire, and the smells of stewed meat and baked bread made me sigh in relief.

A grizzled but friendly
-looking old man met us and handed our soaking wet cloaks to a thin, frowning woman. "Taran brought ye?"

"
He did," I answered. "He told us to ask for the corner room."

The man nodded.
"He must like you then. Just so happens it's not bein' used." He motioned to the tables filled with people. "None of these folks are staying here. They just like the food." I noticed the thin, frowning woman start to smile at this. She must be the cook, and this was a compliment of importance to her.

"
Well it smells as though we are in heaven," I said, bowing to the woman who let her guard down enough to widen her grin. "My compliments, madam. My boy and I are famished."

I glanced at
Iona and saw that she was staring at a platter of meat and bread on one of the tables. The old man guided us to a table closest to the fireplace, chasing off a couple of men who were sitting there but not eating. They spat on the floor, but left without a fight.

"
Name's Deort," the man said as we sat down. "How long will ye be with us?"

"
Two or three nights," I answered, handing him a couple of coins.

Deort
's hand closed over them, but his eyes never looked at the money. He nodded. "That'll be good." He whistled, and the thin, now smiling woman brought us a tray full of food and two cups of beer.

"
When yer done, I'll show ye to yer room," Deort said before leaving us to our dinner.

Iona
took a bite and rolled her eyes heavenward. "Oh my God. This is the best thing I've ever tasted. Ever."

I knew that was a lie. Our cook at the castle was talented. But we were cold and wet
, and that made this tavern a glittering castle.

The meat was succulent
, and the bread was crusty and warm. We ate in silence, savoring every morsel. We'd made it here, to Moray. The worst part of our trip was over.

"
What's our next move?" Iona said quietly as she shoved the now empty trencher away and wiped her mouth on her sleeve. She belched, and I was proud of the fact she was really getting into her role.

I looked around the room. These were
villagers, not visitors, Deort had said. We'd need to get some information. If the Magnate of Moray was involved in a dispute with Sigurd—this seemed like the logical place to start.

"
Work the room. See if you can overhear any gossip," I said. Iona nodded and slipped away from the table.

"
How was yer dinner?" Taran appeared at my elbow with a wide grin.

"
Hit the spot," I said. "Are we the only ones staying the night?"

Taran
nodded. "Yeah. Everyone jes comes 'ere fer dinner." He pointed at a couple of men the next table over. "They work for the magnate." Taran puffed up his chest. "He comes here a lot."

"
After the dinner I just had, I can see why the most important people come here." My words had the desired effect—Taran lit up with pride.

"
I keep tellin' my da that. Maelbrigte the Tusk always comes here."

"
Maelbrigte the Tusk?" I asked.

Taran
nodded. "The magnate. They call 'im The Tusk on account of his teeth sticking out." He pointed at the door. "And there he is!"

A man, his face shielded by a hood, stood in the doorway. He didn
't look like anything special—average size and height. A cheer went up at the table next to me, and the man in the doorway slipped off his hood.

If Taran
hadn't prepared me, I wouldn't have been unable to stop staring. Maelbrigte the Tusk was aptly named. The ugly man had shaggy, dark hair that went in a number of surprising directions out over one, thick black eyebrow. His eyes were wild, as if he was mad. A broken nose sat frankly between them. But it wasn't his strange appearance above the lips that startled me.

Maelbrigte had two, huge
teeth in the front that stuck nearly straight out from his face. I'd never seen anything like it. A wild boar would find himself confused if confronted with this man.

"
Don't stare," Taran said quietly. "He don' like it when yer stare."

I pulled my eyes away as Maelbrigte made his way over to the table filled with his men.

"I see why he's called The Tusk," I said softly.

Taran
nodded. "He looks mean, but he's a good man. He's fair, an that's more'n yer can say fer most."

"
I've heard rumors on the road that your magnate is involved in a dispute with a Viking?"

Taran
spat on the floor, his face contorted with disgust. "The Earl of the Orkneys." He spat again. Apparently Sigurd rated a double spit. "He ain't the earl of me! He's a bastard. That's what Da says."

Trying to seem as if I really didn
't care, I asked, "Why?"

"
Vikings. They don' belong here," Taran said.

Deort
called his son away from me, and I was left with my thoughts.

Iona
appeared in front of me. "We got lucky. Sigurd is coming here in two days' time. And he won't be alone."

That got my attention.
"Really? Why?"

Iona
grinned. "There's to be a fight. A forty-on-forty-man battle. To settle the border dispute."

A forty
-on-forty was interesting. Basically, the magnate and the earl would each bring forty men to the battle, just to keep it fair. Whoever won the battle won the dispute. Actually, I was a little surprised that the magnate had agreed to it. Vikings were talented fighters in a group. They could just chop away at people with axes until there was no one else to chop. After which, they'd look confused and go find some goats to steal.

I shrugged.
"Why not just let Sigurd be killed in battle then?" Did we even need to be here, I wondered?

"
You need to make sure the job is finished," Iona answered. "We can't leave until we know for sure Sigurd is dead."

That was a good point
—but I wasn't about to say it to my sister. Chances were, the Vikings would come out on top here. I needed to make sure Sigurd did not survive this battle.

We once again gave our compliments on
the dinner and followed Deort upstairs to our room. To my surprise, it was a large, corner room with two small beds and a blazing fireplace. After bolting the door and shuttering the one window, Iona and I disrobed and hung our clothing in front of the fire.

The things we
'd brought were wet, so they too went in front of the fire. My sister and I wrapped blankets around our bodies and sat on our beds, mulling over what we knew and what we still needed to know.

"
We should check this town out after breakfast," Iona said. "We can get a lot of gossip in the market."

I nodded.
"All we have to do is make sure Sigurd doesn't leave here alive. I can volunteer to join Maelbrigte's forty fighters." I'd had a great deal of battle experience. Up here in the Pictlands, you just needed to step outside your front door to find it.

"
I can help with that," Iona said. "As your boy, I can fight with you."

"
No. I'd rather you didn't. You're just here to help me. I need to carry this assignment out." And that part was true. It was my job. But I also didn't want her to get hurt. It was better if she stayed out of the fray.

Iona
frowned. I knew that look. That look meant I was in for it.

"
I'm a trained killer too, Dublin. I can handle myself." She was angry with me.

"
I know that." I struggled to figure out how to placate her—considering my next move from every angle. I missed my chess board. "What I meant was that I want you to stay on higher ground. Watch the whole field. If Sigurd makes any attempt to run away, you can go after him if I can't."

Iona
smiled and nodded. She really was too easy to manipulate. Maybe I needed to teach her chess when we got back. She'd shown no interest in it previously, but my sister needed to learn strategy.

"
I'll go to the bakery tomorrow and get us some bread," Iona said. "You need to make friends with the magnate."

"
Good idea. By the way, did you get a look at the man?"

"
Not really but I heard about his teeth. I was wondering how he eats like that." My sister shuddered a little under her blankets. "Why doesn't he just have them pulled?"

"
Because maybe that's all he has," I answered. Teeth were important. Once you lost them, you were stuck eating broth or, in the case of my grandparents, having others pre-chew food for you. Which is why I brushed my teeth every day with a bristled twig. The others made fun of me sometimes, but my sister and mother used it, and we still had all of our teeth.

Sleep got the better of us. Our bones were weary but finally warm
, and we settled into the straw filled mattresses and were out quickly.

"Dublin! Dub!" Iona's voice startled me awake, and I sprang from my bed, ready to fight.

My sister laughed.
"You might want to put some clothes on." She pointed at my nudity, and I scowled as I walked over to the fire and retrieved my stiff but dry clothes.

"
I thought there was trouble," I grumbled.

Iona
giggled. "No, I was just waking you up." She'd already folded her clothing and was dressed.

"
What time is it?" I asked.

"
Oh, it's still pretty early," she answered. "I just didn't want to miss breakfast." Iona took a deep breath, and that's when I noticed the tantalizing smell of fresh baked bread in the room.

Deort
's cook, who turned out to be Eithne, Deort's wife, greeted us with a smile and led us to a table. In minutes, she'd brought out a plate of bread, cheese, and apples. Once again, the little tavern room was filled with people. Iona and I ate heartily. We weren't going to be hungry again until we left.

It was a cold but bright, sunny day outside. Our breath mingled in the damp air. The village was not much to look at in the daytime.
There were maybe ten crude buildings scattered recklessly about. People moved to and fro—some dragging animals or children with them. I asked a few questions and soon found myself standing face-to-tooth with Maelbrigte the Magnate.

I was staring. I know it was rude. But I couldn
't help myself. The two teeth were even bigger in person. And they seemed to know I was staring at them. I don't know how I knew that…I just did.

"
You lookin' fer me?" Maelbrigte said, but I could swear it came from those two teeth. They were enormous.

I forced my eyes upward and looked into his. He had two different colored eyes. The green one, on the left, looked right at me. The brown one on the right, wandered somewhere off to my right. I focused on his eyebrow.

"Yes. I've heard much about you and wanted to meet you in person."

The brown eye focused with the green eye on me for one moment before wandering off again.
"That so?" the magnate said. "Buy me a drink then." His hand came up and turned my shoulder back to the place where I'd just come from. I curbed my instincts to toss him to the ground. Bombays didn't like to be manhandled as a rule. But I needed this weird looking man. So I allowed it.

B
ack in the inn's tavern, Deort clapped two tankards of mead in front of us.

"
Who are you?" Maelbrigte asked as he took a large swig of mead. "Why are you here?"

"
My name is Rabe. I'm a merchant from the South. Just passing through." I nailed the backstory. In your face, Iona! "I'd heard about the Magnate of Moray. You have the reputation of being a good man. I thought I'd introduce myself."

Maelbrigte
's green eye regarded me thoughtfully. It was difficult to say what the teeth were thinking. Their gaze never wavered. "Good to meet yer." He clapped me on the arm. "Sorry yer had ta come at this time though."

I polished off my tankard and motioned f
or Deort to bring another round. This seemed to please the magnate, and he took another drink.

"
Why is that?" I asked innocently. I needed to maneuver him into telling me about Sigurd. It would be too telling to ask directly.