Virryn woke him with a plate of fresh fruits and a bowl of something mushy, brown, and steaming. “Eat up,” she advised. “This was all I could save from Beleg. That man has an appetite like I have never seen.”
Kre nodded and accepted the food gratefully. He wasn’t too sure of the mush at first but gave it a small taste so as not to offend Virryn. It was sweeter than he anticipated, with a light trace of honey. She motioned that he should add some of the fruit to the bowl and he was appreciative of her advice.
When he finished the bowl, she took it from his hands and then motioned over to a larger bowl full of water on a nearby table. “To refresh yourself,” she stated. “I shall be in the other room.”
“Actually,” Kre said hesitantly, “is there a place where I can…” He paused there, uncertain if there was a polite way of saying what he wanted or if he should try to mime it.
Virryn, thankfully, knew what he was asking for without needing the words or the motions and she gestured towards the hall. “Down the hall to the right and then the first door on the left.”
When Kre stepped into the main room, he noted that everything was neat and tidy once more. There didn’t even seem to be a trace of the formerly broken furniture, making Kre wonder if they had spent all night repairing it or if they had found replacements.
After he returned to the room, he sat down across from Beleg who had just finished off the fruit on his plate. “Delicious, isn’t it? I think we lucked out with the finest cook of all of them.”
Kre could only nod in agreement. “What’s the plan now?” he asked.
Beleg set down his cup and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “Well,” he rumbled, “I’m really not sure. Grivallt or one of his trusted contacts was meant to tell Dain what we found and then report back to us, but I haven’t heard anything yet. It’s not yet midmorning though, and I know the after-tournament festivities went on for a bit, so it’s possible that Dain’s just late to rise.”
“Wouldn’t now be a good time to go rescue the others then? While everyone is hungover?”
“Nah,” Beleg said with a shake of his head, “even if we could get to them and get them out, there’s not really anywhere we could get them to safety. I can also assure you that the guards they have posted are not hung over.
“No,” he continued ruefully. “No, we must wait for someone to come up with a plan. I’m good at the execution phase, but I’m not the one you go to when you want to know what needs to happen next. Unless that next thing is fighting someone. That I can do.”
Kre chuckled even as he admired the big man for such brutal self-honesty. “How long do we wait then and what do we do in the meantime?”
Beleg barked out a sharp laugh just then and clamored to his feet. “Well, we wait as long as it takes. The finals of the tournament are tomorrow night, so I’m guessing that’s when we’ll make our move. As for what we do now?
“We practice!” he finished with a cheerful shout.