by Ellie Smith
Chapter 7
Two months later, just after Yanar had finished riding one of her favorite horses, Bronstad appeared in the stable doorway.
"Your highness," he said and bowed low.
"What is it Bronstad?"
"I am sorry to trouble you your highness," he apologized. "A dispatch has just arrived from the king." He handed her a folded piece of paper. "He wishes you to return to the main castle."
Yanar read the note with a growing frown.
“‘My darling daughter. Something has arisen here that needs your immediate attention. I am dispatching a messenger along with a garrison of soldiers to see you safely home. Please come as quickly as possible.'"
Yanar told the Chief Guard they would leave in the morning then turned to her horse. She patted his muscular neck gently then brushed him down before returning to the castle. That evening, as she packed her things for the trip back to the main castle Yanar took a moment and looked out across the valley and sighed. She would miss the ancestral castle she had grown to love. Her gaze slid down to the horses that were grazing in the pasture. She would definitely miss the horses. There were no horses at the castle or, even if there were, there was no place to ride them.
The following morning, Yanar boarded the coach her father had sent, a duplicate of the coach that had tumbled into the ravine. She looked around the velvety interior then said a prayer to the Gods asking them to guide her and the soldiers safely home then gave the command to the garrison leader and waved to Bronstad as they pulled out of the gates of the ancestral castle.
Yanar eased back into the soft seat and scowled at the thick drapes. No, she was not going to take this journey again and not be able to see the beautiful landscape. She tied back the drapes and slid over beside the window. As the coach moved along the road Yanar recalled several locations and remembered what she was doing when she had passed by this way a few months ago. As they neared Modenista Yanar rang the bell that signaled the coach driver and felt the coach slow almost to a stop. Moments later, the garrison commander trotted up beside the coach.
"The driver said you rang your highness."
Yanar nodded. "I wish to stop on the outskirts of Modenista for a few minutes."
The commander's frown was instant. "I would advise against it your highness."
"Your advisement has been taken under consideration,” Yanar told him. “Tell the driver to stop when he reaches the edge of Modenista."
The guard bowed on his steed. "Yes your highness," he said then touched his heels to the horse's flanks and trotted forward.
It was less than five minutes later when the coach eased to a stop. Seconds later, the door swung open and the garrison commander appeared. He helped Yanar down to the dirt street and she realized they were exactly where she had wanted them to stop. She looked around to get her bearings. But, to her surprise, the inn was not there. Instead, was a charred heap of burned wood. Only the stone steps remained. Yanar climbed the steps and looked at the charred remains with a frown. Everything was old and weathered. It had obviously been there a very long time. Yanar walked around the rubble slowly, surveying the area as she went. She was about to return to the coach when she spotted something glitter in the ruins. She started into the rubble but was pulled back by the garrison commander.
"I must insist that you do not go in there your highness. It is not safe." There was a firmness in the commander’s voice that told Yanar his recommendation would not be rebuffed again.
Yanar admitted he was probably right. But she had to know what the shiny object was. "Do you see that object shining in the sunlight?" she asked him and pointed to the glittering piece of metal.
"Yes your highness."
"Will you retrieve it for me please."
The guard bowed then moved through the rubble carefully until he reached the object. He shoved several boards out of the way then lifted a gold spoon and held it up.
The flatware at the inn had been gold. One of the boards he had uncovered had writing on it and she inquired, "What is written on that board?"
The commander kicked the board with his boot before picking it up. "It appears to be some kind of menu," he announced.
Menu? Yanar squinted against the sunlight, read the words that were painted on the board. Her eyes flared dramatically. 'Chicken and Rice...25 cents.' It had been the first item on the menu and what she had ordered. There had been five other items on the boards that had been attached to the wall in the inn's dining area. Where were they? "Bring the spoon and board to me," she instructed and examined them closely. Neither the board or the spoon had any damage at all. It was as if neither of them had ever seen the fire. But yet, everything else here was destroyed.
"We must continue the journey your highness," the commander said, tossing the board on the pile of charred wood. "The king is awaiting your return."
"Very well," Yanar said and slipped the spoon into the pocket of her traveling cape. "I am done here anyway." After she was safely back in the coach Yanar looked back at the burned building with a deep frown of wonderment before settling back in the seat as the coach moved forward.
It was almost sunset when the coach and garrison pulled into the small village where they would spend the night. When they had passed the ravine where the accident had happened, Yanar had not been surprised that the coach had sped up. She had barely gotten a glimpse of the hillside before they were past it.
When she was escorted into the dining hall of the inn, Yanar smiled at the owner who was beaming that she was taking residence in his establishment for the night. She accepted the hand printed menu he offered and read through the list of choices. Yanar's eyes flared as her gaze stopped on one of the menu items. 'Chicken and Rice...25 cents'. It was the same price. "Pardon me," she said and looked at the owner. "Might I inquire something?"
"By all means," he smiled and took a step toward her.
"How long have you owned this fine inn?"
"Thirty years, your highness."
"If I may ask, how have prices changed over the years. I am most certain they have risen, as all things do. But how fast have they risen."
The owner frowned for barely an instant before his smile returned. "Indeed, they have risen," he admitted and glanced at the menu she was holding. "When I opened the inn, the cost of a meal was 5 cents. Then it went to 10 cents, then to 15 and then to 25, which is what it is today."
"How many years separated those price increases?"
"The last price increase I had was almost ten years ago, when I increased it from 15 cents to 25 cents. It had been 15 cents for 20 years before that." His gaze bounced to the menu and back. "And, sometimes, even those prices are too low. But I do manage to keep the inn open."
Yanar thanked him for his responses then ordered the Chicken and Rice. So his prices had not risen in ten years. Which meant, most likely, that none of the other inns prices had either. And, if he had charged 25 cents for a Chicken and Rice meal for the last ten years, then how could an inn that had burned down more than 25 years ago, be charging today’s prices? Yanar pondered that question all during her meal, She was sure she had eaten in the Modenista inn and had slept in the bed in the second floor bedroom. She had not been dreaming and had not envisioned the meal or the woman. But her father had said the inn had burned down before she was born, killing the owner. After her meal, Yanar was escorted upstairs to the royal suite where her father always stayed when he was there. After a leisurely bath, Yanar wasted no time in getting into bed. She thanked the Gods for watching over them during the day's journey and asked them to help all of the inns in their land to remain open for travelers. Within minutes, she was asleep.
