The Copper head Inn is a place that is alway bustling with life. Merchants and travelers are grateful for this safe haven on the road between Alder and Ohia. They see the flamboyant wooden structure at the entrance of Firr village just when their feet start to tire and their eyes need to rest. It’s near impossible to resist the lights behind the colored glass and many a voyager steps inside. Upon entering the inn they are greeted by an array of warm smells and colors. Cinnamon and Sito weeds are burned in little copper incense holders hanging from the ceiling. Wooden benches draped with winegoat wools and everything else styled in colors that vary from rubyred to a deep warm hazelnut.
The tavern, as always, is filled with travellers. Zaire walks through the door with the kettle in her arms. Inkeeper Willow, who used to be an Alderian merchant, moves through the crowd at a brisk pace. He feels at ease with the ragtag bunch of creatures that sit at his tables and drink his mead. He’s a social butterfly and moves his slender figure between the tables chattering like an exited song bird. “Yes dear, put it there on the table. Oh no, that sweet deer stew is for the Kurkozia in the corner. Don’t give him the side dish with vegetables. Kurkozia are religiously carnivorous.” With a sweep of his head he turns to a chanting customer. A creature with tusks and reddish eyes, broody from the alcohol it nearly drowned itself in. “Willow good fellow, your mead is as sweet as your lips isn’t it?” It bellows. Willow giggles. “You would like to find out don’t you?” He turns around again like a dancer anticipating his next routine. “Zaire!” He yells, spilling a few drops of beer on the eating customers next to him. They ordered the Ouroboros platter and prefer beer in the dish not on their heads.
Zaire looks at Willow like a deer in the headlights. Uneasy with the big crowd and eager to go back to her smithy. Her hands firmly grip the handle of the copper pouring kettle, turning her nuckles white. Quickly the innkeeper puts the beers down. He walks up to Zaire, his hands opened in a wide gesture that could be used to welcome a guest but would also help calm a nervous horse. Gently he takes the kettle from her hands and inspects it quickly. “Beautiful dear.” He says as he admires the lion heads and the perfect curve of the copper.
“You want a cup of tea from it?”
“No thank you, I have to polish some swords, else I’ll never sell them.”
Willow nods understandingly and puts a bundle of coins in her hands. Zaire hears the metal shift inside the bag and feels it’s heavier than the birken coins she takes. “Willow, what’s this?” “Alderen. I know you won’t have much use for it here, but you might if you ever choose to visit the temples of the Goddess like your father.” Zaire opens her mouth in protest but before she is able to utter a word Willow continues. “Besides, this is what a good kettle would fetch in the city. Knowing this it feels wrong not to pay you what its worth.” Zaire nodds and smiles. “Thank you.” She quickly puts the bag away and turns to the door.
“Wait, wait!” Sauda comes running from the kitchen. She pulls Zaire into one of the alcoves in the corner of the dining room and closes the heavy curtain. There are several dim lights in the small space. Nevertheless Zaire can see the white of Sauda’s eyes as well as her silhouette against the curtain. Sauda turns around one last time to make sure no one is listening in. Zaire can hear her shaky breath echoe. She is scared. Sauda mumbles something into the dark, Zaire leans in closer to hear her. “You have to speak up Sauda.” “Shjjjjj” she hisses. “Not so loud. I don’t trust them and I don’t know how far their ears reach.” In an attempt to silence her Sauda’s hand reaches over the table, her nails scratching at Zaires skin. Them? A chill is send down Zaires spine. She realizes the cozy atmosphere of the inn is only a small layer covering a tension that is creeping through the walls. How did she not notice that before? “Them?” She asks. Now matching her friends tone of voice. “Yes, them, Bakroes.” “You mean magical, actual Bakroes?” Sauda nods, and shakes her head. Zaire leans back to let it sink in. The man from the dagger was so nervous about these creatures, and so is Sauda. “A whole pack. Willow send me out to the stables with some hay for the horses. There I saw two of them guarding something near Adone’s box. I heard them talk about riches..” Zaires tilts her head tilts a bit.
“What were they guarding?”
“I don’t know, maybe a map that will lead them to something valuable. I swear I tried to listen in, but they talked with such a raspy accent. It made it hard to hear them. I tried to avoid them to be honest.” Zaire shakes her head and thinks. Bakroes love gold and all things shiny. Whatever they are hiding must be worth enough to get the village out of this drought. “I’m going to check it out. I’ll be right back, stay here.”
The stables lay behind the tavern. Embraced by firs and oaks, the trees hide the wooden building from the road. Several torches guard the building from the darkness of the night. Zaire slips out of the back door into the dim flickering light. There is no one outside so Zaire straightens her back and walks to the back of the big stable as casual as possible. When she nears the entrance to the paddock she can hear the sounds of the bakroos talking. Raspy tones mixed with shrill laughter its a sound piercing the air like a knife. A sound Zaire never wants to hear again. She crouches near the door. She presses her ear to the wood trying to hear the conversation on the other side of the timber.
“I’m sure Ba Sombre will get a better deal for the map.”
“Yes, yes, yes.” Says another voice with a slight lisp.
“Three big hematites, and seven rock crystals at least.” Answered the lisping bakroe.
“The map to Dore Dore’s treasure is priceless. We need to get more out of it than that!”
Dore Dore’s treasure? Zaire thought of the big statue in the city temple. The woman with the sphere and the heart. A stone replica of the Goddess that supposedly hid in the North, as far away from her enemies as possible. And removed from her children. Me. Zaire briefly touched her own chest. She noticed her heart racing. “I will get that map.” She wispered.
Zaire moves to the other side of the stables, crawling to the large stable doors. Hay pricks the palms of her hand and the overwhelming smell of ammonia making her eyes water. A big wall of hay hides her from the bakroes. She knows the building is shaped like an L. The short arm of the L, where the bacroos are sitting, houses seven horses. As Sauda described it they where hiding ‘it’ near Adones box. Adone, Willows favorite mare usually stood in the third box to the right.
As silently as possible Zaire peeked over the wooden wall of the box closest to her. A big grey percheron snorted softly and then turned away to chew his fresh hay. The two boxes in between Adone and the percheron are empty. The bakroos kept chattering about their desired riches: Hematite, Aventurine, Amethyst. Zaire recognizes the names, precious stones that are wanted for their magical powers.
“I prefer Ruby. Rubies make merchants run, servants run. It fills their bodies with hot blood and passion. If its not for more profit it’s for entertainment!”
A sharp snickering follows. Meanwhile Zaire climbed over the last box and landed in the hay with a soft thud. Adone recognized the intruder’s scent immediately and whinnied with glee. Zaire landed on something hard, rubs her painful back and rolls away from Adone’s trampling hooves. The horse knows Zaire’s presence normally means treats. She tries to get them by pushing Zaire’s side with her soft nose. “No girl, no.” Zaire whispers, softly pushing the horse away. Zaire quickly hides in the hay. “What is it horse?” One of the bakroos asked. His voice cold and annoyed. Adone, who didn’t feel much warmth for the creature either, put her ears down and let out a shriek. “Make that horse stop please!” Lisp hissed when she kept whinnying.
“I can’t kill it can I?”
“No you can’t, boss will have your head if you mess up the deal. And I will eat your liver.” Lisp schreeched, dead seriously.
“Just walk away! Horses aren’t the animals for us, you know that. We need snakes and colder blood to manipulate.”
When the bacroo walked away Adone calmed down. Zaire realized the hard metal case she landed on had to be the item the bakroes where guarding. It is shaped like the seed of a tamarind and has carvings running across its surface. Upon closer inspections the carvings seem to be roads, trees, cities and rivers engraved in the metal. Could this be the map? Though it’s lighter than she would’ve guessed the metal feels strong and impenetrable. Zaire quickly puts it in the pocket of her pants, immediately feeling a low and pulsing vibration pressing against her hip. Suddenly the air is filled by the piercing shriek of a bakroe sounding alarm.