Erot grunts again. He seems to like that form of communication. I follow as he trails off, walking to the tavern. 

The music beckons louder. Some harp or Eastern instrument is played in concord with a woman’s voice. As we enter the tavern, some eyes pass over us, specifically me in my dirt loins and foreign robe. I am for once, acutely aware of how bad my appearance must be. I shrink behind Erot and the tavern-goers quickly ignore me, watching instead the woman dancing on the tabletop. 

She taps her feet to the beat of the song, singing with a beautiful voice. Her green dress flows with every spin and movement, and sweat drips from her long black hair. A brilliant smile plasters her face. 

“When the storm did scream and the flames they dreamed of a death beyond our halls, 

And the war grows bleak and the frail go weak, so the end shall come for us all, 

But at last we say we shall break away until night befalls our walls.” 

She holds that last note for an impressively long time, eliciting whoops and cheers from the audience. Then, someone sitting and sloshing his drink begins beating it against a table. The others follow, beating and clapping as the tune ramps up. 

Then, they all begin singing along with her. 

“So come and see what a world we weave when the sky does shine unmarred, 

And the war grows bleak and the frail go weak, so the end shall come for us all,

But we’ll scream and shout and we’ll give a fair rout 

Till the enemy does fall!” 

The clapping and singing and melody crescendos and with one sweeping bow, the act ends. Everyone whoops into cheers and laughter. Even I can’t help but smile. Such dances and songs were not so permitted in the Adachi clan. Ours were more conserved: slow dances and slower melodies. 

This was something else. 

The woman steps off the table, assaulted by a tirade of compliments from young men and women and of course, a gathering of children. She smiles and picks a boy up over her shoulder, moving outside with the children and speaking to them in kind tones. 

“That was nice. But where’s the mayor?” I ask, looking at Erot. He grimaces. 

“You're staring at her boy,” he says. 

I look between her smiling form and his face for a few moments. Then, I can’t help myself. 

I laugh. 

“I have so much to learn,” I say. He gives me a pat on the back. 

“Don’t we all?” There is no humor or joy to his voice though. And I wonder once more who this mayor is to make Erot so apprehensive of her.  

We approach her as she swings a boy around by his ankles, the other children forming a circle around them. The rest of the bar goes back to their drinking and small-talk, and the lute player changes the song to a more background-centric track. 

The mayor notices us approaching and sets the child down, patting his giggling head. She tells the children something I don’t hear and they go run off, waving her goodbye. 

Then she turns to us, white smile, green eyes. She takes a seat on one of the outside table benches and beckons us to join her. 

“Come now, Old Erot. It has been a while.” 

We take our seats across from her. Erot looks stiff. I am also on guard. 

She’s all smiles though. “I see you’ve brought back a guest.” 

“Yah,” Erot said, jabbing a thumb at me. “Picked him up on the road.” 

“Oh how very kind of you,” she says. Then, she pauses, looking at me expectantly. A few seconds of awkward silence pass before I answer. 

“My name is Raiten.” 

“Raiten? That’s quite the peculiar name,” she notes, resting her head on her palm. “Hmm. You wouldn’t happen to be from Clan Sorayvlad, would you?” 

I am startled that she even knows of that clan. What business would this Westerner have with that brutal clan? Yet, then again, I had heard tales of Sorayvlad calming down over the past few years, expanding their provinces through multiple marriages with the Western nations. Perhaps she knows of them through such unions. Either ways, this woman is already proving to be dangerous. I hold back a grimace. 

“No, I am not,” I answer slowly and with some finality. 

“Oh. Good,” she nods. She really is quite pretty. I can’t imagine how many suitor offers she’s gotten, considering her position in this quaint little town. 

“Why do you ask?” I prod. She tucks her hair back behind her ear. 

“Oh, no reason,” she says, closing her eyes. “It's just that, if you said yes, I’d have to kill you.” 

She says it so seriously, I almost think she means it. But then she laughs a bubbly sort of laugh and points at me. 

“Your face is quite telling. I like this one Erot. Keep him.” 

“He’s not my slave, Sorina,” Erot murmurs. Sorina huh? That’s also a peculiar name. 

“Of course not, Erot of course not. Heavens forbid I make a joke and you laugh at it.” 

Erot grunts. “Over my dead body.” 

“Oh I can arrange that old man.” 

“Please stop threatening my benefactor,” I say, waving a protective hand over Erot. She looks my way, grin broadening. 

“Ah I see now. So he’s your bodyguard then?” 

“Just get on with it, Sorina. Ask what you want to ask so I can go home to my daughter.” 

“Oh alright alright. You two are no fun. I suppose you’re made for each other,” she winks. Then, she sets her elbows on the table, interlocking her fingers. Sorina’s smile disappears altogether. “Now then, onto business. Tell me Erot, what have you found out from the other villages?” 

Ah I see it now. I look at Erot with a more critical eye. 

He’s her spy.