( Thanks again, folks. Glad to hear that you're enjoying Edwards (mis)adventures.
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Fire at the Harbor!
In yet another astonishing revelation, coming close on the heels of so many other shocking occurrences in our city, we report a disastrous night for the Marie Elena, the frequent visitor of our illustrious harbor. As our reader may recall, the Marie Elena was long purported – but never proved -- to be a pirate vessel. In yet unexplained circumstances, the ship spontaneously erupted into flame and burnt into wreckage that promptly sank to the bottom of the bay. The cause of this incident is as yet unknown, although some witnesses did report seeing a darkly clad figure skulk away from the wreckage. The veracity of these stories, however, is called into question by the inebriation of the tellers. As a result, the conflagration and ensuing disaster is officially listed as "Fire and sinking, under suspicious circumstances." A reward is being offered for any further information relating to this incident.
--Black Horse Courier, Special news Bulletin
Chapter Thirty-Four
Edward tossed again. He was wrapped in about ten blankets, which he'd had a very difficult time securing from the none-too-accommodating proprietor, and he still felt thoroughly chilled. Furthermore, he couldn't get over his aggravation at having to sleep beside a servant -- much less a servant who had no difficulty getting to sleep wrapped in a single blanket, while he struggled to sleep even under a mountain of them. And, to make it even worse, every once in a while his valet would snore.
Now, his occasional snore was not terribly offensive or terribly loud; it wasn't that that annoyed Edward. No, it was the mere fact that he, Edward, should have to sleep beside a snoring servant that boiled his blood. "
Disgusting," he thought again and again, poking his valet hard with every soft snore while declaring loudly, "Stop snoring! You're keeping me awake!"
After the third time, the valet muttered something inaudible, gathered his pillow and blanket, and lay down to sleep on the bench at the far end of the room. Edward congratulated himself heartily at this, thinking that, finally, his efforts had paid off -- though he was still sharing a room with his servant, at least he didn't have to suffer the humiliation of sharing a bed with his hired help.
Then he started shivering, and was all at once cursing his wayward servant anew. Instead of generating heat at his side, when the other man had gone, he'd left Edward exposed to the cold night air -- as exposed as one can be fully dressed in heavy clothes and under ten blankets, at least.
His teeth began pvssyring again, and he hunkered down under his coverings, certain that he would freeze to death before morning. "
Then, at least, this will all be over," he consoled himself. "
Damn this barbarian outpost and its frigid nights and full inns and stupid mages' conferences and insolent servants and..."
Lulling himself to sleep with a barrage of people and things that he'd like to damn, Edward dozed at last. He slept relatively peacefully, having only the occasional dream of dying a slow death on a frozen tundra with a barbarian outpost just ahead, just beyond where the last reaches of his strength could push him. He woke the next morning feeling quite stiff, as though he had, in fact, partially frozen, and quite cold, as if evidence of the first supposition. His first instinct was to berate his servant, though for what he wasn't quite sure.
"
Hogging the bed?" he wondered. No, that was a dangerous one to bring up, particularly in light of the fact that Edward had pushed him practically off the edge of the bed, and then had later forced him out by hitting or poking him whenever he snored. "
Ahh!" he thought, "
that's it! The snoring!" Yes, that would be perfect. Already imagining the tale of lost sleep and discomfort with which he'd assault his valet, he stopped short as he glanced at the bench on the opposite side of the room. There was the man's pillow, and a blanket folded up very neatly, but where was he?
Edward frowned deeply. His servant's blanket had been an extremely thin one, and it aggravated him intensely that the other man was able to survive the cold with so little protection while it bothered him so substantially. "
Bastard," he thought. "
And where in Oblivion is he?" Edward was feeling very peevish that morning, and it annoyed him more than he could coherently express that his paid subordinate...alright, his pay-deferred subordinate would just up and leave without asking permission. Not that, of course, Edward would have wanted to be woken to be asked something like that; but he conveniently ignored such facts when it suited him to do so, and it suited him now. "
Well," he thought, "
I've half a mind to fire that man! Just who does he think he is?"
At that moment, the door opened, and the valet and one of the inn's servants entered, carrying breakfast food. "I'm not sure if he's awake yet," the valet was saying, "so bring in some strong coffee please. He's got a long day ahead of him."
"Yes sir," the third man agreed.
Edward frowned as a host of delicious aromas assailed his nostrils. Somebody, at least, in this town of savages could cook.
"Ahh!" the valet greeted. "You're awake, sir!"
Edward nodded warily. He was suspicious of his valet's motives in acting as though nothing was amiss when he felt a nagging sense (was it the pangs of conscience?) that things were not well.
The valet, however, deftly set down his tray on the stand near Edward's bed, and then directed that the other tray be set on his bench. He watched as the third man left the room and shut the door, and then turned to Edward.
"I'm glad you were awake, sir," he said, "because I came across some intelligence that might prove very helpful to you on your mission."
» Fri May 13, 2011 12:42 pm 
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Oh, and don't worry about the proofreader function. It's sometimes difficult to catch those things when you're writing, because you know how it's supposed to read, so you expect that it does. 
