A journey for information

Riva left the castle at first light, dressed in a simple riding gown of deep green wool and a plain cloak that hid her finer features. She took only two guards, men who knew better than to question her early departures. The road to Oldford wound through open fields already turning gold with harvest. She rode with purpose, the memory of her wet dream still clinging to her skin like a second layer of heat.

The town smelled of smoke and burnt meat and brown bread when she arrived. Narrow streets bustled with carts, shouting vendors competing for buyers over the heads of passing villagers. Riva dismounted near the butcher’s quarter and left her horse with one guard while the other trailed at a discreet distance. She found Agnes’s shop by the heavy iron hooks outside and the sharp tang of blood that clung to the air.

Agnes was a stout woman in her sixties, apron stained dark, arms thick from years of cleaving bone. She looked up from a slab of beef when Riva entered and recognition flashing across her lined face.

“M'lady,” Agnes said quietly, wiping her hands on a rag. “Didn’t expect you so soon.”

Riva stepped closer, lowering her voice. “I need to know where Baron Rufion’s men are operating and which roads and towns he has eyes in. Any word from your contacts in the south quarter?”

Agnes glanced toward the open doorway, then nodded toward the back room. Riva followed her through a curtain of hanging sausages into a dim space lined with salt barrels. The old woman spoke low and fast.

“Three of 'em came through two nights ago. One’s posing as a wool merchant near the river gate. The other two are staying above the Broken Wheel tavern. They’re asking questions about grain shipments and castle guard rotations. One of them has a scar across his left eye, that one's name’s Varn. He’s the one paying silver for information.”

Riva absorbed every detail, already calculating how to use it. She reached into her cloak and pressed a small pouch of coins into Agnes’s palm.

“Keep listening. If they move, send word through the usual channel.”

Agnes nodded once. “Watch yourself, girl. These aren’t court dandies.”