Free Tarah Woodblade by Trevor H. Cooley Page B

considered his proposal as he walked away. A steady job with a noble house? There could be worse ways to live. It was the kind of life her papa would have wanted for her. But that would mean leaving Dremaldria for good. It would also mean dealing with people every day. Tarah shuddered and turned back towards the cottage door.
    She stepped inside to find a tidy living space. The arrangements were nicer than any inn she had ever stayed at. There was a central area with a table, two chairs, and a small cupboard and two identical bedrooms sat at either side of the space. A vase of fresh flowers sat in each room, filling the house with a fresh scent.
    Tarah picked one of the bedrooms and threw her pack down just inside the doorway. She glanced at the intricate pattern on the quilt covering the bed. The wizards sure did their best to make the place inviting to their guests. Tarah frowned. This place made her feel like even more of a fraud.
    She sighed as she unlaced and removed her armor. The sweaty stench of her underclothes made her wince. Tarah used the washbasin by the bed to clean up as best as she could and pulled a somewhat cleaner set of underclothes from her pack. Oh how she wished she were home. To have clean clothes and sleep in her own bed would have been so nice. She pulled back the quilt on the bed and looked at the clean white sheets, sure that there wouldn’t be much sleep for her here. Then she sat on the bed.
    Tarah let out a sigh of a different kind. This was no straw mattress like at the inns she frequented. It wasn’t even stuffed with cotton like the mattress at home. She laid back into the luxuriant softness and smiled as she pulled the silky quilt over her. This had to be stuffed with down of some sort, though she couldn’t imagine what kind of bird had feathers that soft. And the pillow . . . she rubbed her head into it and smiled at the faintly floral scent. No she wasn’t sleeping tonight. This was far too comfortable to miss by indulging in something as ordinary as sleep.
    She was snoring softly within minutes.
     

Chapter Four
     
    Knock, knock, knock !
    The sharp rapping shook Tarah from her slumber. She opened her eyes to find that sunlight was streaming in from the small bedroom window. How long had she slept?
    Bam, bam, bam !
    “Just a minute!” she shouted and hurriedly threw on pants and a shirt, not having time to strap on her armor. Tarah left the bedroom and moved to the front door just as whoever was there beat the door loudly again. She frowned and cracked the door open, peering outside. “What do you . . ?”
    There was no light outside, just the deepest darkness. And two eyes; two glowing yellow eyes like luminous orbs. Tarah’s heart jumped. Those were moonrat eyes. Just as she made the realization it let loose a chittering moan. It was a haunted and penetrating sound, both sorrowful and hungry.
    Tarah slammed the door shut and took a step back, her hands shaking. What was a moonrat doing here?
    “They’ll never truly be gone, Tarah,” said her papa’s voice and Tarah turned to see him standing in the doorway to the second room, leaning against the doorjam. He was just as she remembered, tall and handsome with a muscled frame and an easy smile above his stubbled jaw. “But come on, you don’t fear moonrats, do you? You’ve certainly killed enough of them.”
    “N-no, papa,” she said, then jumped as something heavy slammed against the front door, rattling it in its frame. “B-but-.”
    “Of course you ain’t afraid. Tarah Woodblade fears nothing,” Grampa Rolf lectured. Suddenly he was sitting at the small table beside her, a steaming mug of tea in one hand. His eyes twinkled under their bushy brows and his thin gray mustache stretched as he gave her a reassuring grin of his own. “You can take that thing, girl. Tarah Woodblade can handle any situation.”
    Tarah nodded and her staff appeared in her hands just as the door to the outside shook again. This time great