Whatever else was true, Red was sure that he had not spent much time in his forgotten past doing much by way of hard labor. His back was screaming! He was on his knees, scrubbing the wood floor in one of the inn's rooms with hot, soapy water, using a very sturdy wooden brush.
When he had asked Morien for work, this was not what he had been thinking of. Rather, something more on the lines of reorganizing the scrolls alphabetically, or sweeping the floor in the common room, or waiting tables even. This was hard work. Morien was getting his room paid for, no danger!
Red left the brush in the puddle on the floor, and leaned back, still on his knees, pressing both hands into the small of his back. The ceiling was crawling with spider webs that needed removing. He would have to tell Morien about that.
Just then he heard a muffled noise from the hallway.
|