With the mountain witch Abilene vanquished, Esmiralda invokes her traveling stone to return her and her companions to civilization--in this case, Veral Ski, one of the largest cities in the world of Korin. Here, she means to inform the Ministry of Human Preservation of the loss of their colleague, Merrick, who served the ministry under the direction of Queen Phedera. First, she intends to find a hot bath, warm food and a soft bed.
We selected a small inn on the outskirts of the city. It was filled with weary travelers and few of them took much notice of us as we stumbled in and sat heavily at a table near the far wall. The conversation inside was muted and most men where slumped over brown cups of ale. There were a few women sprinkled between them, equally plain, many with their hair tucked under a cloth or braided into place.
A huge vat bubbled over smoldering coals in the fireplace, giving off an exotic, spicy scent that made my stomach rumble. The keeper gave it a quick stir, sniffing the vapors he disturbed. He motioned for one of the serving women and pointed in our direction.
"Do you have any coin?" I asked Seymuhr.
"A few."
"Let's hope it's enough to buy a meal, a bath and a room for the night. I am not quite ready to be seen in civilized company."
"I think you...look...nice," Broo Fang Tane said. "And the sm....ell is har...dly...noticea....ble."
I gave him a fake smile. "Thank you for that."
The serving girl approached, a tired but cheerful look on her face. Her hair was the color of straw and her shirt was pulled tight around her middle, open at the top. Seymuhr's gaze lingered there and I rolled my eyes. Men: covered in gore and fresh from battle, they think women find them as irresistible as they do.
"A good day to you, travelers," the woman said. "We've ale and dried leaves for tea, a bit of mutton left and greens that are fresh from the market."
"What's in the pot?"
"Oh, you must be from far away indeed, if you don't know of our soup. It's rather famous."
"I bet it's delicious," I said, with real relish. "What is it called?"
"Well, it's spiderfat soup, of course. The best in the land." She curtsied as she said it, as if she was solely responsible for its taste and reputation. "Everything we serve here is made of the finest spider."
"I see." I could feel my face falling. "Even the mutton?"
She nodded enthusiastically. "It's spider-mutton, actually. Fresh, juicy flanks. We rub a little thyme and rosemary into the carapace to give it an extra bit of flavor--not that it needs much," she added with a snorting laugh.
"I'll go with the greens, then," I said.
"One spider leg salad," she repeated, then went on before I could protest. "And you two?"
"All of it for me," Seymuhr said, slapping the table. "And keep it coming!"
Tane merely nodded and I was grateful for that. I was too hungry to wait for him to work his way through another sentence. I requested, as politely as I could, anything that did not include spider and the woman gave me a puzzled look, but promised to see what she could find.
"You would think, being this close to a city and so many farms, that they would serve something besides spider," I said. I reached my fingers into my hair to scratch my scalp and pulled them away, disgusted. It felt like they were coated in slime. "Are there no cows in the fields? Fish in the river?"
"Cats in the barn?" Seymuhr put in, earning a scowl.
"You're in a fine mood," I said. "I thought Tane was the optimist among us."
"You need to learn to live without all your fineries," he told me. "Korin is not such a bad realm if you lower your expectations of comfort."
Perhaps. But what type of place was it becoming? Who would carry on Merrick's mission? Korin was and hopefully always would be a silly place, but it could be dark and dangerous, too. Confronting the mountain witch and skimming through the book that chronicled her evils, I couldn't help but wonder if the shadows were growing and the light, receding. I felt suddenly weary for the stories I would have to tell--starting with Merrick's end at the hands of the pirate's undead mistress.
Then the serving wench returned. She plopped down two bowls of steaming soup in front of Tane and Seymuhr. Part of a hairy spider leg protruded from the viscous surface of Tane's bowl; he used it to stir the broth. She placed a heaping bowl of peas in front of me with an apologetic shrug.
"That's all we have, besides spider," she said.
I looked at the bowl, then at the soup that Seymuhr was noisily slurping, then at the pot bubbling in the crucible, then back at the peas and then completed another visual circuit.
"You know what? I'll try the soup, instead."
She turned toward the pot, but left the bowl of peas on the table.
"Later, we'll need two rooms," I said. "Do you have any available?"
She nodded and took another step.
"And a fresh bucket of blood to bathe in," Seymuhr called after her. Pointing at the gore that covered his arms, his face, his scalp, was smeared down his legs, across is abdomen, between his fingers and caked on his boots, he added: "This, this is just getting too sticky and stale for my tastes."
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