Free The Buried Symbol (The Ruins of Issalia Book 1) by Jeffrey L. Kohanek Page B

They ’ re both gone, Ren. ”
    That quieted the talkative boy. He sat down as tears began to well up.
    “ What am I going to do? I can ’ t do this alone. I need Hank, ” he sobbed.
    Brock sat on the bench across from Ren, motioning for Tipper join him. “ Don ’ t worry, Ren. It isn ’ t something you need to solve this minute. Let ’ s order some food and we ’ ll see if we can help you figure out a plan. ”
    Ren nodded and wiped his eyes with the back of his hand. He used his sleeve to wipe his nose and glanced up as a serving girl walked by. After delivering two ales and two bowls to the couple who had recently arrived, she turned and strolled over to greet the boys.
    Long red hair framed her pale young face. Large green eyes and lightly freckled cheeks surrounded her perky nose. The swooping neckline of her dress exposed the upper portion of her ample bosom. She appeared to be about Brock ’ s age, perhaps slightly older. Her full lips formed a smile as she approached the table. He smiled back, feeling a warm rush of desire for this pretty girl.
    “ Ren, I see you ’ ve found some friends. ” She looked them over, her hands on her curvy hips. “ What can I get for you boys? Maybe something to drink? We also have some beef stew on the fire. ”
    Ren responded, “ These are my friends, Meg. This is Brock, and that ’ s Tipper. We met them on the road from Kantar. ” Ren paused, his face turning sad again. “ Hank ’ s dead, Meg. The banshee got him. ”
    Meg reacted instantly, showing concern. Her hand rested on Ren ’ s shoulder as she spoke. “ I ’ m so sorry, Ren. Hank was a good man. We ’ ll all miss him. ” She pulled her hand away, placing both hands on the table to lean on them. “ Don ’ t worry; my pa will still buy supplies from you. You still have our business. ”
    As she leaned against the table, Brock found it difficult to look away from her chest. His heart was racing.
    Ren didn ’ t seem to notice, responding immediately. “ Thanks Meg. I have the load of supplies he requested in the yard out back. When do you think Derrick can go over the delivery? ”
    Meg stood upright. “ You ’ ll have to wait ‘ til tomorrow. He had to make a run to Hawk ’ s Landing and won ’ t be back ‘ til late morning. ”
    Looking the boys over, she smiled again. “ In honor of Hank, you boys eat and drink for free tonight. I ’ ll get you each a bowl of stew and some bread. Be right back. ” She turned and left, her hips swaying as she walked.
    Brock glanced toward Tipper. The girl was clearly affecting him as well. He watched her backside as she walked into the kitchen.
    Ren asked, “ Have you guys ever had ale? ”
    Tipper replied, “ No. The owner of the tavern we frequent won ’ t serve us ale. She says we don ’ t need our brains addled until we ’ re older. Although, she never did say how old we needed to be. ”
    “ Hank loved ale. He let me have a mug from time to time. ” Ren sat upright. “ I want to order a mug of ale to toast to Hank. Will you guys join me? ”
    Without a glance at Tipper, Brock responded, “ We ’ d be honored, Ren. We owe our lives to Hank. ”
    The kitchen door swung open, and Meg emerged with three steaming bowls of stew. She placed them on the table along with half a loaf of bread.
    “ Careful, boys. It ’ s hot. ”
    She stood, flipping her hair over her shoulder and teasing it with her right hand as she spoke. The pale skin of her neck was making Brock ’ s heart beat fast again.
    She looked at Brock as she spoke. “ So, what will it be, boys? Do you know what you want? ”
    Did she notice he was staring at her? Was she aware of how she was affecting him?
    Brock stammered, “ Umm. What do you mean? ”
    “ What do you want to drink? ” She smiled again. “ I know the place isn ’ t packed, but I don ’ t have all day. ”
    Ren saved him. “ Three ales, please. We want to toast to Hank ’ s memory, Meg. ”
    She nodded. “ Three