Zombie stew

Esmiralda and her companions, the Optimist Monk Broo Fang Tane and Seymuhr Skullsquasher were enjoying a brief respite outside the walls of Veral Ski, the largest city in the land of Korrin. Soon, they must visit with the queen and tell her of the demise of their colleague.

Later, much later, I staggered up the stairs to the room that awaited me. Broo Fang Tane had already retired for the evening, but Seymuhr was still down in the main room, alternately singing in his hoarse voice and belching bubbles of ale. I paused, leaning against the doorway, for a moment tried to determine which was which--and which elicited more cheers from the sparse crowd. Soon, he would start in with his battle poems and that, more than my own exhaustion, drove me up the stairs to seek solace.

The room was small, but tidy. There was a solid-looking bed on the far wall and a chair at its foot. A small alcove held a large caldron of water over some dim coals. There was a tub beside it resting evenly on water-marked boards. I lit the lantern that hung on a hook by the door. Then I collapsed in the chair, my head spinning from the ale, and looked at the bed and then the tub, and then back again. I was woefully tired, but didn't think I'd be able to rest with my own stench in my nostrils. The tub it was, then.

The coals were dying, but the water was still lukewarm--warm enough to feel like a soft, heated blanket as I slipped my body into it. I laid back and let the water soak into and lift the grime from the forest and the road and the fight with the Hunen and the undead horde from my skin, then set about scrubbing my hide and hair. The water was gray and scummy by the time I had finished, a sort of stew made of grime and dead flesh, but still I dipped my clothes into it to rinse them as much as I could. They still smelled like a grave-filled swamp, but I felt a little cleaner and I no longer disgusted myself.

"A proper bath can change your outlook on the world," I muttered, although there was no one else to hear.

I laid down naked on the bed. Tomorrow there would be plenty to do, decisions to make and problems to solve. I could scarcely think of the first before sleep claimed me.

A low and mighty sound

Esmiralda and her companions, the Optimist Monk Broo Fang Tane and Seymuhr Skullsquasher were enjoying a brief respite outside the walls of Veral Ski, the largest city in the land of Korrin. Soon, they must visit with the queen and tell her of the demise of their colleague.

Seymuhr woke with a start and an embarrassed expression on his face. After a moment's confusion, he dove into the scraps of food in front of him, slurping up the remainder of his spiderfat soup, crunching up what was left of his spider flank steak. then he turned his attention to the few spider legs he hadn't ingested before, biting off the ends and sucking the ichor from their crunchy shells.

I found his dining habits to be truly disgusting. When he finally had picked clean every carapace and soaked up every drop of spider goo, popped and chewed all the eyes, he brushed all the plates and bowls and platters to the floor with a single swipe of his thick arm and then, cradling his distended belly with both his hands, let out a belch so mighty, damp and rank that the pure volume of it stopped passersby in the street.

Mallyn, her nose hidden in the crook of her elbow, nevertheless let out a long, braying laugh as she refilled the flagons on a table where two farmers sat. One of them whistled appreciatively.

"If I could belch like that, I never would have left home," Mallyn called with a snorting laugh. She disappeared into the kitchen with a swirl of her skirts.

I didn't know what that meant and I was too busy furiously waving my hand in front of my face to ask her. I scowled at Seymuhr, who patted his belly and then lifted his cheek to tilt to the left.

"If you wanted to attract attention, you've done so," I snapped. "If you wanted to make me ill, you've done that as well! What manner of man makes a noise like that? Or a smell?"

He shrugged. "Not a hungry one." He flashed a smile that he probably thought was charming. "The wench seemed to like it."

"It didn't get her wet."

"You get....used to I..........t," Broo Fang Tane, his head still bowed, added.

"I hope not." I poked at my empty bowl, then set my spoon aside. The tavern was beginning to clear out, and I felt myself relax. Outside, night had fallen and the road was growing quiet. Mallyn dropped off three more flagons of beer, but only managed a quick smile. She blew an errant hair away from her face.

I took a long, slow drink and thought back on all that had happened to me--to us--within the past fortnight. I saw Merrick again gasping and fighting for breath, his face red and his eyes wild as his life left him. I smelled the gore of that horrid cavern in the mountains and I remembered his final words as his soul left him.

Tomorrow, I would see the queen and try to articulate all of that to her. What would she require of me, an old, sad woman? I couldn't even imagine writing the Tale of Merrick's End. And what would I do after that?

"What will you do now?" I asked Seymuhr. He had already finished his beer, somehow, and was holding the empty cup above his open mouth in hopes that another drop would somehow spill out. He jerked it, twice and Mallyn took note.

"Now?"
"Now that our companion has perished," I said. "Will you continue your work for the MOHPs*?"

Seymuhr shrugged. Tane looked up, and nodded.

"Haven't thought much about it," Seymuhr said. His eyes were distant.

"You must have some kind of ambition," I pressed him. My hair fell in front of my eyes and I brushed it aside. "Some land to travel to? A cause to fight for? A...woman?" I hesitated, perplexed at the sudden hitch in my voice. Why would that thought bother me so? I certainly had no designs on this brute...

"Well, I always did want to knock someone's teeth out through their arse," he said, his face brightening and, just like that, the bothersome feeling was gone.

I sat back and crossed my arms over my breasts. "Your mother would be proud."

"Do you really think so?" He leaned in, an eager expression on his face, and I shook my head--but I felt the beginning of a smile all the same. I still had plenty of ale, but I knew I would need even more.

A talent for slaughter

Esmiralda and her companions, the Optimist Monk Broo Fang Tane and Seymuhr Skullsquasher were enjoying a brief respite outside the walls of Veral Ski, the largest city in the land of Korrin. Soon, they must visit with the queen and tell her of the demise of their colleague.

Mallyn bent down, bucket and sponge in hand, and started to sop up the blood.

"We really should just paint the floors red," she called to us. With a snorting chuckle she added, softer: "And the walls and the windows and the ceiling, perhaps the door..."

Broo Fang Tane smiled slightly at the attempt at humor. "I coul....d help," he said.

"There you go," I was relieved that his good humor was returning. So, I think, was everyone else who had witnessed the rather lop-sided fight. "Don't think of it as a talent for slaughter, but redecorating!"

"Either way, you'll never want for work," Seymuhr put in.

"I must admit, you do have a propensity to attract unwanted attention," I said after another mouthful of spiderfat soup. Indeed, I had been in three taverns with Tane and seen more than a dozen men dead or maimed because of it. "Is that what first took you to the Temple of the Sun?"

The Temple of the Sun, in far-off Nicaria, was where pilgrims went to learn the Way of the Optimist, and the fighting skills required to spread good cheer during these troubled times. Korrin was often a silly place, but it was a dark place, too, and anyone who tried to cheer someone else up had to know how to defend him or herself.

"I do not know," Tane said. "I was to....o...youn...g to understand much a...bout that place and i...t's teachings."

"Oh? I'm afraid I do not understand. I thought most boys who joined the order sought it out when they were of age. Is that not the case?"

"It is, usual...ly," Tane said. "But not for........................me."

In his slow, halting way, Tane told us of how his father had led him into the snow-slickened slopes of the Jagged Peaks and wept with joy when he found the temple gates. He remembered his father's heavy fist pounding on him and then not much else. When he looked up, his father was already walking away.

"Oh. He just left you there?"

Tane nodded. Mallyn had scooted near the table, her pink sponge working furiously at a thick blood stain.

I could only imagine how frightened Tane must have felt, and confused. I shook my head in wonder. It was no wonder Korrin was such a dark and silly place when parents took no responsibility for or joy in their offspring.

"With no word at all?"

"Oh, he said one...thing. But it was to the monk who....opened the...gate and...not to...me."

"I hope it was 'thank you,' at least!"

Broo Fang Tane shook his head. "It was: 'Good luck with this one.'"

"Well that's the next best thing," Mallyn said with a snorting chuckle and then, when I shot her an irritated glare, scrubbed the floor with renewed vigor. "I've heard worse," she muttered.

I favored Tane with a sympathetic glance, but the monk was looking down at the table and did not see it. I patted his hand, instead. Seymuhr, his belly full of spiderfat soup, roasted spider flank, spider silk noodles, spider jerky and whipped spider cream, had dozed off.

Spiderfat soup

Esmiralda and her companions, the Optimist Monk Broo Fang Tane and Seymuhr Skullsquasher were enjoying a brief respite outside the walls of Veral Ski, the largest city in the land of Korrin, when a group of locals teased Tane into a deadly confrontation.

"You know, this spiderfat soup isn't half bad," I said. The thick liquid had a smoky flavor and a vague honey-like aftertaste. The chunks of carapace were boiled perfectly and retained only a touch of their crispness. I dug a stiff hair from between my teeth.

"You should try the spider silk ale," the serving wench added with a nod and a snorting chortle. "I've lost many a night to its seductive flavor." She raised her eyebrows at me suggestively.

"Perhaps later," I said. I put a reassuring hand--very tentatively, of course--on Tane's arm. "You didn't mean to kill those men. It's okay. They started the fight."

He made a non-committal noise and continued to stare glumly at the table top. Seymurh slurped a bit of stringy fluid from the inside of a spider leg and ignored us both. He belched and patted his stomach, then rooted around in a bowl for another stalk.

"They could have stopped. They didn't have to tease you that way."

"They ne....v...er do," Tan whispered.

"Poor little feller," The serving wench returned. Her name was Mallynda. "Is he always this gloomy?"

"Just the opposite, in fact," I said. "He is of the Order of the Optimists, and tasked with spreading good news and cheer throughout the land."

Mallyn whistled. "No wonder he's such a good fighter. Those are dangerous tidings, indeed."

Seymuhr belched again, louder this time and a few people in the corner cheered and clapped.

"Who would have guessed that we'd ever live in a world where a hearty belch is greeted with more enthusiasm than a message of hope and happiness," Mallyn said. "Hope, we need more of. Gastric distress is all too plentiful."

"You should know," Seymuhr said as he lifted a leg and squinted. "These spiced spider legs have my guts churning like a stormy sea."

I waved a hand furiously in front of my face and scowled at him. "And what was it yesterday, then?"

"Listen," Mallyn said as she sat down next to Tane. "You mustn't lose your spark of sun, even when others try to force it out of you. Those men needed to be taught a lesson. They are here often, looking to stir things up. Sometimes, the trouble you cook up doesn't sit well."

"Forgive me," I said to her. "But you speech has the cadence of education. Why is someone so learned serving roughnecks in a tavern?"

Mallyn snorted and chortled again. "Oh, I'm not that learned. You just pick up a few things here and there. My education is nothing more than that." She colored slightly and got quickly to her feet. Someone raised and empty glass and she hurried to retrieve it, leaving me to stare at her swaying hips and wonder.

Whirled peas, not world peace

...in which Broo Fang Tane goes on another over-the-top rampage

Previously:
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. Sadly, it was not meant to be.

Tane's high-pitched battle cry reached a crescendo and he punched his first two fingers up through the soft part of his tormentor's throat. He slammed the dying man's forehead on the table twice, knocking everything else askew. He jerked his bloody hand free, then sent the man sprawling with an elbow to his gut--all actions again punctuated by an incoherent yelp of rage.

The first man lay still, leaking fluids onto the tavern floor before his snickering companions could even react. One of them, a tall bearded fellow with no hair above his ears, lurched forward, but Tane was already on his feet, eyes wide with anger. He caught the man's wrist with one hand and shattered his elbow with the other. The man opened his mouth to scream but Tane's heel knocked him to the floor before he could utter a sound.

I grabbed a chair and ducked behind it. Others dove for cover, behind tables or chairs or each other. A woman with long red hair leaped in my direction. She crawled behind me and I put a protective shoulder in front of her. "Be still and make yourself as small as you can," I told her.

Tane took the bowl off his head and wiped the smashed peas from his scalp. He hurled the ceramic dish at one man and leaped after it. The man dodged the bowl but then Tane was in front of him. He kicked the man's leg, bending his knee backward with an ugly crack, and then flattened him with an uppercut that lifted him off his feet. Blood spurted upward like a tiny, thick geyser.

The fourth man held up his hands in surrender and waved them in front of his face. "I'm sorry mister I'm sorry we were just having some fun..."

Tane grabbed his wrist, bent it sideways until a shard of bone broke through the skin, and then drove the heel of his hand into the man's nose. He staggered back, gulping, and Tane sent him sprawling with a firm kick to his midsection.

Someone threw a knife, but Tane caught it and sent it back. It buried itself in the man's eye. He dropped to his knees. Tane snatched up a chair and shattered it over his head.

He whirled, eyes still blazing, chest heaving. "WHO'S NEXT??"

"I think you got them all, Pard," Seymuhr said. 

"He must really not like peas," the woman behind me whispered.

"You can't blame him for that," I answered. I got slowly to my feet, holding up my hands to show him I meant no harm, like I was trying to calm a panicked horse. "There, there. It's okay now. All the bad men are...well, they aren't going to bother you any longer."

Tane took in a final deep breath, then looked around him and let it out loudly. His head fell and his shoulders drooped. "I am....sorry." He sat down heavily.

"My companion meant no harm," I said, loud enough for everyone to hear. "He is but a pilgrim on the road to peace. He still has a long journey ahead of him."

"Are you sure he's started that journey?" Someone called out, but I could not tell who.

The serving wench peeked from behind the bar, where she had been hiding. She took a quick look around the room to survey the damage. "I'll get a bucket," she said.

An all-too brief peace

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.

"Bucket of blood?" I asked Seymuhr. "Why would you say such a thing?"

"Why not?" He answered with a shrug. He glanced around. "I doubt they have that much here, anyway."

"It's just...I...we shouldn't be making such a scene. The way we look, people are apt to ask us questions."

Broo Fang Tane slurped his soup, winced, and pulled a long, thick spider claw from between his teeth. He held it up in the dim light of the tavern, sniffed it, then crunched it between his jaws. My stomach hitched and I saw the serving woman leaning over the crucible. She took in a deep breath, eyes sparkling, and licked her lips. I heard loud eating noises all around me and I tried to ignore them.

"We have nothing to hide," Seymuhr said. "And look around you. Nobody is paying us any heed."

Indeed, the figures in the tavern were all slumped over their bowls or spider-filled platters, crunching and slurping away. Around the walls, men sprawled in some of the booths, their arms up around their seats and their legs played open. Two of them had their boots off and were wiggling crusty toes. Coated in gore we may have been, but stand out we did not.

Then the door banged open and four men walked in. The first, a man large and broad with a thick neck and broken nose, lit up when he saw the three of us. He clapped hands together and made a soft, gleeful sound as his three companions snickered. He walked toward us.

As he approached, he licked the palm of his hand and then slapped the top of Tane's bald crown. He chortled at the sharp sound, licked his palm again and slapped It down, a little more firmly.

Tane tensed for an instant, then his shoulders relaxed. He looked up at the man.

"Why do you....do....this?"

The man stuck a finger up his nose and rooted around before answering. "Why? Oh why, why why. Why does the river flow to the west?"

"That's where the sea is," I answered, hoping to send the man away.

"There are seas in the east, too," he pointed out. He pulled a slimy finger out of his nostril and wiped it on Tane's cheek.

"Please, I want no troub.....le," Tane said.

Seymuhr leaned back, arms crossed, a mischievous smile on his face. I glared at him, imploring him to intercede.

"You won't be any trouble, monk-ey," the man snarled. A strange look crossed his face and he abruptly turned around, raised his arse and broke wind in Tane's ear. "There, I just wanted to remind you of your mother."

I shouted. A soft, high-pitched growl had started in Tane's throat. I recognized the sound and my heart started racing. "Leave us in peace! We are merely weary travelers, looking to enjoy some...some fresh spider!"

"Peace?" The man seemed unfamiliar with the word. He glanced back at his companions and repeated it. Two of them scratched their heads, the third let out an inquisitive grunt as he spread his hands in a confused gestured.

"Yes." Tane regained his voice. "I am a man of....peace."

The man snatched up the bowl and emptied it on to Tane's head, pushing it down and twisting it. "Well, you're a man of peas, now!" He chortled, slapped his own belly and bent over laughing. Seymuhr chuckled, too, but I caught a dangerous glint in Tane's eye and heard his knuckles crack as he formed a tight fist. The high-pitched growl returned and grew into a crescendo.

"Oh, bones of Barnok," I whispered. Tane exploded into action and then the shrieking started.

A hot meal and a bucket of blood

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."