Stars dotted the night sky as the tavern called "The Prancing Pony" flickered with dim light on the street.
The young inn servant responsible for greeting guests diligently guided Thorin and the others to the stables for storing their horses, except Tarnes discreetly recalled Torrent into the spirit-calling bell when the servant wasn't looking.
Of course, the servant's diligence might also have been due to Thorin giving him a silver coin.
Even so, Thorin still had Fili and Kili remain at the stables first, to prevent the servant from doing anything strange to their mounts that were so important for their expedition.
Thorin and the others then entered The Prancing Pony first.
Thorin pushed open the heavy oak door, and a lively atmosphere mixed with the smell of alcohol and food wafted toward them.
Candlelight flickered in the tavern, with light and shadow interweaving. Rough copper lamps hung from wooden beams, casting warm light into every corner.
Patrons sat around carved wooden tables, chatting and laughing loudly. Some talked boisterously, others whispered in low voices, occasionally accompanied by the crisp sound of silver utensils clinking.
At the bar, the bartender busily shuttled about, his hands nimbly dancing through the air as he mixed various drinks. Each time he finished one, he would deftly place it on the counter, leaving a trail of thin foam.
Near the fireplace, several farmer-looking men sat together. Their faces were covered with mud, their noses and cheeks reddened by alcohol, but their simple smiles couldn't be hidden.
They raised their cups in unison, the firelight reflecting on their faces, occasionally waving their arms and gesturing dramatic stories.
The waitress responsible for serving plates, who was also the innkeeper's daughter, wore a proper black dress with her light golden hair tied in a short ponytail, moving between every table in the hall.
Thorin and the others' entrance didn't quiet the tavern's noise but rather made it louder, with topics gradually shifting toward "why did a large group of Dwarves suddenly appear here?"
Though Thorin's group was numerous, fortunately The Prancing Pony's first-floor hall was spacious enough, with several empty tables in the corners.
They claimed those spots, and the waitress approached with a smile, asking kindly: "What would you like to eat? Are you staying the night?"
She then quickly observed the composition of Thorin's group and added with a smile: "Though we don't have rooms specifically prepared for Dwarves, we do have several fine hobbit rooms. Of course, we also have normal-sized rooms for your accommodation."
Thorin pulled out a heavy money pouch from his waist and threw sufficient silver coins onto the waitress's tray. The crisp collision of coins made her beam with delight.
Thorin said: "Give each of us two pieces of pure wheat bread, a bowl of vegetable soup, a pork sausage, half a block of cheese, and a portion of fruit. Also prepare enough rooms for us to stay. We don't need hobbit rooms, just ordinary human rooms will do."
The waitress replied cheerfully: "No problem, I guarantee everyone will be satisfied."
After speaking, she was about to turn and leave.
But Thorin suddenly had an idea and called out to her: "Wait."
The waitress turned around, still maintaining her smile: "Is there anything else you need?"
Thorin pointed at Bilbo, who was rubbing his sore thighs, and said: "Give him a separate fine hobbit room."
The waitress curtsied elegantly while holding her tray: "As you wish."
Bilbo looked at Thorin in surprise, opened his mouth, and pointed at himself: "Me?"
Thorin glanced at Bilbo indifferently: "Cherish this last night of having a warm bed for peaceful sleep, Master Burglar. After we leave Bree, pillows and bedding filled with down will be completely gone from your life."
Bilbo closed his mouth but put on an expression of "I'm already mentally prepared."
Because Tarnes and Thorin's group was large, the waitress made five round trips to deliver all the food Thorin had ordered.
Tarnes sat at a table with Bernahl, Millicent, and Igon. Thorin squeezed together with Fili, Kili, Dwalin, and Balin... five Dwarves at one table. Dori, Ori, Nori, Oin, and Gloin sat on high seats.
Because Bombur was the largest and fattest, he could only share a table with his cousins Bifur and Bofur.
He immediately devoured the half block of cheese that had just been served on his plate, chewed it deliciously a few times, then felt around the table edge but couldn't find the pint of ale he had imagined.
"Oh, if only I could drink, I'd love to have a hearty drink," he complained quietly to Bofur.
Bofur had just been eating the pork sausage on his plate. After hearing Bombur's words, he glanced at Thorin and then whispered: "I don't think Thorin would allow drinking tonight... at least not getting drunk. I'm afraid the next drink will have to wait until we reach the Lonely Mountain."
Bilbo sat with Gandalf and Igon, feeling much better about the soreness in his thighs.
Tarnes sat at the neighboring table. He had just picked up the pure wheat bread from his plate when his brow furrowed, though his hands didn't stop moving.
Bernahl's amused voice came: "You noticed too?"
Tarnes chewed the food in his mouth, swallowed, and while picking up his vegetable soup, said: "How many people are watching us?"
Bernahl also acted normally, eating the food on his plate while having already discreetly scanned the bustling hall of The Prancing Pony.
After hearing Tarnes' question, he laughed quietly: "Four in total, like three different groups. Two big-bearded men by the window, one cross-eyed man sitting by the bar, and a bald one-eyed fellow mixed in with those drunk farmers. They've been watching us since we entered The Prancing Pony. At first I thought it was just simple curiosity about Dwarves and us, since we're both wearing armor. But you also sensed the killing intent in their gazes just now, right? Though it's not directed at us, but at your Dwarf friends."
Tarnes smiled while eating, as if chatting about something interesting with Bernahl: "Hmm, quite interesting. Actually, I rarely come to environments with so many people. If they hadn't failed to conceal their gazes toward me, I might not have noticed that Thorin was being watched. But the one thing I don't understand is: who exactly is targeting Thorin and the others?"
Bernahl said: "That's simple. With so many of us here, these people definitely won't make any moves. But after they go out... you and I take two each."
Tarnes smiled: "No, to be safe, let's call for backup. Four people is too many. Kill one and see what the other three have to say."
As he spoke, he looked at Millicent, who had heard their conversation but remained silent.
Millicent only returned a confident smile.
During their conversation, the two black-bearded humans by the window seemed to confirm something. They exchanged glances, threw some copper coins on the table, stood up, and headed outside.
Tarnes' gaze met those of Bernahl and Millicent. As soon as the two big-bearded men left The Prancing Pony, Tarnes stood up and stretched.
"I'm going to relieve myself," Tarnes said with a smile to Thorin, Gandalf, and the others who looked over, then found the waitress and very politely asked her for directions to the toilet.
Gandalf was smoking his pipe, his face covered by the exhaled smoke, squinting his eyes.
Obviously this wizard had also discovered some problems. Probably only the Dwarves hadn't yet realized they were being watched.
The Prancing Pony's toilet was in the completely opposite direction from the main door, so after Tarnes headed to the toilet, the remaining two watchers who hadn't left didn't sense anything amiss.
Tarnes came alone to The Prancing Pony's toilet. After confirming no one was around, he crouched down. His entire form suddenly seemed covered by a dark veil, then his figure disappeared.
The Concealing Veil he had previously demonstrated to Gandalf and Thorin finally came in handy.
Tarnes smoothly and quickly returned to The Prancing Pony's hall. No one could see an armored man crouching and walking, not even when Tarnes left The Prancing Pony.
The two big-bearded men hadn't gone far, walking hurriedly on the street less than fifty meters from Tarnes.
Walking on a sparsely populated street at night... too much of an opportunity.
Tarnes stared coldly at these two men, thinking to himself.
"Can you be sure, brother? That's the Thorin we're looking for? Those Dwarves all look almost identical to me." One big-bearded man wearing dark brown cloth with a curved sword at his waist asked his companion.
The other big-bearded man answered confidently: "Of course, I can be certain that leading Dwarf is definitely Thorin. Unlike you, who just came here from Dunland, I've been to the Blue Mountains and seen him in person. All his features match the portrait... it's definitely him."
His expectation froze in the air as his companion's praise didn't reach his ears as hoped.
He felt inexplicably confused and slowly turned his head. The scene before him made him instantly rigid... Tarnes' fist, carrying whistling wind, swept toward him like a hammer, mercilessly striking his forehead.
The big-bearded man's vision went black. He couldn't even make a sound before collapsing to the ground.
"Hey, excellent sleep quality. If Bilbo had your sleep quality, I wouldn't have to hear his quiet grumbling every night," Tarnes said while dragging both men into the darkness beside the street.
Everything went unnoticed since it was very late, dark, and cold outside, so everyone was in their warm homes.
Meanwhile, at The Prancing Pony, the bald, one-eyed fellow mixed among the drunk farmers was also preparing to leave.
The bald, one-eyed man quietly stood up, his large cloak concealing his form.
He deliberately paused, looking around as if waiting for something.
However, everyone in the tavern was busy with their own affairs, and no one noticed his actions.
Finally, after confirming no one was paying attention, he slowly walked out of the tavern.
Millicent also waited until the bald, one-eyed fellow left the tavern before saying she was tired and wanted to rest, calling to the waitress.
The waitress immediately understood, smiling as she led Millicent through the tavern's lively hall, up the rustic wooden stairs, and quietly brought her to a guest room on the second floor.
After entering the room, Millicent closed the door. Her previously smiling expression toward the waitress instantly turned cold, as if she had become a different person.
She pushed open the second-floor room's window. Cold wind poured into the room like wolves and tigers, whipping up her flame-red hair.
Millicent's golden eyes locked onto the bald, one-eyed fellow walking alone outside. Her slender, graceful body nimbly climbed out the window like a jungle leopard, agile and silent as she leaped onto the moss-covered roof.
Her light form left almost no trace in the night, only slight sounds on the tiles.
Inside The Prancing Pony, the charcoal fire crackled, and Bernahl's smile appeared especially brilliant in the firelight.
He gently set down his empty ceramic bowl, still warm, the wooden spoon tapping the bowl's rim with a crisp sound.
Bernahl stood up like a hunting leopard, his gaze sharp and direct as it pierced toward the last cross-eyed man in the corner.
The cross-eyed man sensed this gaze and stiffened slightly.
He wanted to immediately stand and leave, to get out of The Prancing Pony, but felt as if he were being watched by an extremely terrifying monster.
If he dared move even slightly, his body would be cut in half by a blade the next second.
At this moment, Bilbo at the neighboring table asked cautiously: "What's wrong with you all? Why are Tarnes, Millicent, and you all standing up one after another? Is there something you're hiding from me?"
Thorin's questioning gaze also looked over. Even someone as slow as him had noticed Tarnes and the others' abnormal behavior.
Gandalf gestured for Bernahl not to mind Bilbo, chuckling as he took over the conversation, saying to him and the Dwarves: "It seems after eating and drinking our fill tonight, there's still a good show waiting for us, Thorin, Bilbo."
Bernahl paced forward, each step on the wooden floor producing deep, rhythmic sounds. His smile gradually faded, the cross-eyed man's mouth twitched, and he sat pale against the window.
Others in The Prancing Pony also felt this invisible pressure, and their conversations grew quieter.
The cross-eyed man moved his lips, about to scream loudly and accuse Bernahl of being a bandit, trying to cause brief panic in the tavern, but was interrupted by sudden footsteps.
The innkeeper's daughter was coming down from the second floor. She had just led Millicent to her room and was now coming down.
Her arrival seemed to inject a touch of calm into the tense atmosphere.
Bernahl smiled slightly, enthusiastically opened his arms, and quickly walked to the cross-eyed man's side, actively laughing loudly: "What a coincidence, Rykard! I never expected to meet you here... it's been seven years since we've seen each other, right? How have you been lately? Hey, could you bring me and him two pints of fine red wine! Consider it celebrating my reunion with my friend!"
The waitress obviously didn't know what was happening. After hearing Bernahl's words, she nodded happily: "Of course, please wait a moment, I'll get them for you right away."
Then Bernahl really did act like he was meeting a friend he hadn't seen in years, directly putting his arm around the cross-eyed man's shoulders. However, where others couldn't see, a sharp knife was pressed against the cross-eyed man's waist.
"I don't expect to pry any intelligence from your mouth. Do you understand what I mean?" Bernahl let out a loud laugh, then said in a low voice near the cross-eyed man's ear without changing expression.
The cross-eyed man's heart tightened, but he also pretended to show the joy of reuniting with an old friend, chatting and laughing with Bernahl.
Though it was only Bernahl talking one-sidedly while he just nodded and said "mm," "right," "good," and such.
Seeing this seemingly normal scene, others paid no more attention and continued their previous activities.
If Tarnes could hear Bernahl's address for the cross-eyed man at this moment, he probably couldn't help but laugh out loud.
"Pfft, uh, cough cough cough..."
Well, obviously even Igon, who had long left the Lands Between, clearly knew what the three words "Rykard" represented.
The vegetable soup he had just poured into his mouth sprayed out directly, choking him.
[Chapter Complete]
***
Want more? Check out my Patreon for:
✓ Advanced chapters of all my stories
✓ Exclusive novels & fanfics
✓ Early access content www.p@treon.com/meowthtl
💪 Community Goal: 500 Power Stones unlocks a bonus chapter!
Thanks for reading and supporting the story!