by Gwynn White
“That’s delicious,” Galleon said to Florelle, who beamed with delight.
Andrew took a swig, and he too licked the golden froth from his lips. He then gulped the rest of it down in a single swig and once more licked the golden froth from his lips.
“Me ‘usband Fable over there stumbled onto the recipe by accident,” Florelle explained as she topped up Galleon and Andrew’s mugs again.
“Um, why are there so many injured animals here?” Sarah asked.
At this point, Fable emerged from behind the door with a black cauldron. Steam was billowing from it and he was holding it with a thick mitten in each hand. There was so much steam rising from it that Fable found it difficult to see where he was going and stumbled several times on the way to their table.
“Well, someone’s gotta look after the poor darlings, don’t they? Forest creatures know to come to me and I’ll fix ‘em up good an’ proper.”
Fable snorted as he placed the large cauldron in the middle of their table. Florelle cast him a disapproving glance. Mumbling to himself, Fable sneered at his wife before walking back to the counter and rummaging beneath it.
Various things clattered to the floor before he emerged again with four bowls and spoons and brought them back to them. He tossed them onto the table in a pile before catching Florelle’s eye again and walking off with another sneer.
Joshua said nothing about this lack of social graces as he passed out the bowls and spoons to the others.
Andrew and Galleon stared at the steam coming from the cauldron and licked their lips in anticipation. Florelle took the ladle and heaped generous portions into each of the bowls. Neither Andrew nor Galleon needed any further invitation; both began devouring the steaming stew.
“That’s it, me darlings,” Florelle said, as they lapped away. “You eat yer fill. It’ll put ‘airs on yer chests.” She beamed another smile and went back to the counter.
They all tucked into their hot meal.
“Hmmm, this is just delicious. I’ve never tasted anything quite like it before,” Sarah said, sipping from her spoon. “I think those are Lifren leaves,” she said, leaning over her bowl and sniffing. “Those little green balls are definitely Wood-sprouts but I don’t know about the stringy root things. These are Shrooms, of course, but I’m just not sure if they are from the Wendilious or Grempanian family.” She took another sip from her spoon. “Hmmm, there’s definitely hind leg of Wood-boar here too.”
The others were much too busy eating to pay much attention, although that didn’t stop her.
Both Andrew and Galleon went through no less than four full bowls before leaning back with satisfied looks on their faces.
Sarah and Joshua took much longer but still got through three bowls each. At the end of the meal, nobody was saying very much. They were all full and happy to be sitting there near the fireplace and resting.
The tranquil setting was interrupted when Florelle came in through the front door with a Raetheon chick she had picked up outside. It was shrieking and looked like it had lost half a foot.
“Oh, the poor thing,” Sarah said getting up off her stool to take a look at the unfortunate, helpless creature. “What’s the matter with him?”
“Fable’s stinking Wood-boar out there managed to grab hold of the poor thing. I know ‘ee was only being playful and all but ‘ee doesn’t realise ‘ees own strength, you see. Not to worry, me darling,” she said, looking at the distressed bird with a tender smile and soft tone, “Florelle will sort yer out.”
“FABLE!” she shouted in the direction of the door behind the counter. Moments later, the Innkeeper emerged.
“Not another rotten Raetheon?” he moaned, shaking his head. “I keep telling you we’d be better off cooking and serving ‘em than mending the darn things.”
“Well, just maybe there might be fewer injured creatures around ‘ere if you did something about that stinking Wood-boar out front.”
Fable just rolled his eyes and walked out the front door, shaking his head and slamming the door shut behind him.
“What’s his problem?” Andrew asked Florelle. “Is he always this grumpy?”
“I’m afraid so, me darling.” She grabbed a stool and took a seat with them around the fireplace. “It’s not ‘ees fault. ‘Ees not always been this way. Only since that rotten mirror came into our lives.”
“Um, mirror?” Joshua asked, leaning forward and raising his eyebrows.
“They call it the ‘Mirror of Prophecy’,” Florelle replied, “It’s rumoured each owner of the mirror can use it once to see into the future. A Trader arrived some years ago. In a terrible state, ‘ee was. Looked to have been in a battle or something and very weak. Anyway, he stayed here for a few days but we found the poor darling dead one morning.”
“Oh, that’s awful,” Sarah said bringing her hand to her mouth.
“Anyway,” Florelle went on, nodding her head, “nobody ever came asking for this fella so we eventually went through ‘ees things and found a mirror. It was wrapped in cloth. Fable unwrapped it one night and saw something unusual. ‘Ee said ‘ee saw ‘imself die, so ‘ee did. It was an ‘orrible death, so ‘ee said. But ‘ee doesn’t know how far into the future it was. So now, ‘ee walks around all day in a foul mood because ‘ee thinks ‘ees going to die an ‘orrible death but doesn’t know when.”
“That’s…that’s…well, that’s terrible,” Sarah said, still holding her hand to her mouth and barely able to get the words out.
“I’ve heard of the Mirror of Prophecy,” Galleon said, breaking his silence since eating. “I didn’t think it was real. Can I see it?”
“Ohhh, I don’t think that’s a good idea, me darling. I mean, what if it’s true, and you saw something you didn’t want to see? You don’t want to end up like me Fable, now do you?” Galleon pursed his lips and nodded, and didn’t press the matter any further.
Florelle spent much of the evening telling the travellers about her work with injured animals and how she and Fable made a living from the Traders passing through in need of rest, a meal and a place to spend the night. Some of their regulars came from far and wide just to taste their wonderful Wood-wine.
A dozen or more Traders came and went over the course of the evening. Many of them drank copious amounts of the Wood-wine. One or two of them could barely keep upright by the time they left the inn. Some of them rented rooms for the night and one remained at his stool, lying face down on the table and clutching his last mug of the intoxicating brew. He had drunk about eight mugs as far as Joshua could tell.
Whatever it was Fable put into the wine, it took its toll on some of the Traders. They exchanged stories and showed each other the wares they had come to trade. It was mostly cloth, weapons and implements they traded with each other. The odd piece of jewellery was also brought out for inspection every now and then. Judging by the different colours of their tunics, Joshua counted Traders from eight different villages or more.
Against the back wall next to the door behind the counter was a row of small jars. As each Trader left the inn, Fable or Florelle would dip their hand into one of the jars and hand a small piece of something from the jar to the departing visitor.
“What’s in the jars?” Joshua asked Florelle.
“Oh, we like to give the travellers something for their onward journey. It’s liquorice moss.”
“Liquorice?” Galleon said sitting upright with a burst of energy. “Did you say, liquorice?” He fixed a stare at the row of small jars.
“That’s right, me darling. Would you like a piece?” Florelle asked.
Just as Galleon opened his mouth to speak, Andrew said, “I’ll try a piece.”
Galleon turned and looked at him as if he’d just been robbed of something valuable. Florelle walked around the counter and reached for one of the small jars and took a small piece of black liquorice moss out. She replaced the lid and brought the piece back over to their table.
Joshua was curious to see that Galleo
n kept his gaze transfixed on Florelle’s hand as she made her way over. The Imp was holding his hands up by his chest and appeared to be standing on tiptoes. Leaning forward as Florelle handed the liquorice moss to Andrew, Galleon was practically salivating. He seemed to follow the moss with his body as he watched Andrew put the piece of stringy, black treat into his mouth.
As Andrew chewed on the moss, Galleon’s mouth opened wider and his eyebrows rose in anticipation.
“That’s not fair! Honestly!” the Imp suddenly blurted out. “That’s mine! I want it!” he demanded. “I want it now!”
Andrew, Joshua and Sarah looked at each other with stunned expressions and then at Florelle. She smiled back at them.
“That’s alright, me darlings,” she said with a chuckle. “It’s been years since I last saw it, but Imps can be very tempted by liquorice. Drives ‘em crazy with desire, you see. Between you and me, I reckon you could get an Imp to do just about anything for the promise of a nice piece of liquorice.”
All through this explanation, Galleon’s eyes remained glued to Andrew chewing the liquorice moss. He seemed unaware of his surroundings. When Andrew finally swallowed the liquorice, Galleon looked sullen and deflated and his lower lip quivered.
Sarah looked at Joshua and giggled. “Best we keep that little secret to ourselves,” she whispered to him. Joshua grinned and nodded.
“Tell yer what, how ‘bout I get you a nice little bit of liquorice moss all for yerself, me darling,” she said to Galleon, who beamed with delight and jumped up and down a couple of times clapping and nodding.
“Don’t you worry, me darling, Florelle will fix yer up good ’n proper. Won’t be a mo’”
Florelle went back to the counter and picked another small piece of liquorice moss from one of the jars and returned to give it to Galleon. He snatched it from her hand like a mischievous child, ran over to a quiet corner of the inn and eagerly stuffed it into his mouth.
He faced the corner and peered over his shoulder a couple of times whilst chewing on the stringy moss as if trying to guard a precious treasure. Joshua, Andrew and Sarah couldn’t stop laughing.
By the end of the night, the embers in the fireplace were smouldering. The last Traders were finishing up their Wood-wine and putting on their tunics. Fable lifted the last Trader, who had been lying face down on his table, and coaxed him out the door where another Trader from his home village took over.
“You’ll be wanting rooms for the night then, me darlings?” Florelle asked, as Andrew was dozing off. “I’ve only got two rooms left tonight so some of yer’s will ‘ave to be sharing.”
Joshua looked at Andrew, slumped over the table. He was all but asleep already. He looked at Galleon, who shrugged his shoulders and said he was happy to sleep anywhere. He turned to Sarah. She glanced back at him, and there was an awkward moment as the two of them caught each other’s eye. After a pause, they both let out a nervous giggle.
“You two will be ‘aving a room together, then, me darlings?” Florelle smiled as she waved a room key towards Joshua and Sarah.
“Oh, well, um” Joshua stammered, and looking fleetingly at Sarah. “We’re not, um, well…you know.”
Sarah chuckled at Joshua’s reddening face and ineffective attempt at clarifying the situation. Florelle just looked at him with her brow raised.
“Come on, Joshua,” Galleon said after the pause was starting to get uncomfortable. “You help me get this lump of a friend of yours up and the three of us share a room. Sarah can have the other.”
“Of course,” Joshua said with nervous chuckle. He was glad at this distraction.
He and Sarah caught each other’s eye. There was another pause in which neither of them said anything but just kept staring at each other.
“See you in the morning then, Sarah,” Galleon said in a deliberate tone, once again breaking the embarrassing silence.
“Right,” Sarah said, “well, good night. See you in the morning.”
They made their way to their rooms and turned in for the night.
8
The Mirror of Prophecy
Joshua woke up the following morning to find Andrew and Galleon still snoring. The thick morning mist obscured the view through the single, narrow window in their cramped room, and there was a chill in the air.
He returned to the warmth of the inn, where Fable was already putting more wood onto the fire to liven it up. The grumpy man was sitting in front of the fireplace stripping Wood-shrooms from a pile of logs stacked neatly on either side of it. A dozen or more ripe Shrooms had grown over each log. One by one he sliced the golden brown Shrooms away and dumped them into a bucket between his legs.
Once all the Shrooms were harvested, he threw each log onto the fireplace. Each one erupted into clouds of white billowing smoke for a few seconds before being engulfed by flames. After several of these logs had been stripped and thrown onto the fire Fable stood up, picked up the bucket and disappeared with it through the door behind the counter.
Joshua wondered whether the Wood-shrooms were one of the ingredients he was using to make the delicious Wood-wine. He sat there for a few moments, peering into the flames, and found his thoughts drifting to his father and the journey ahead.
It was already getting busy in the inn. A few Traders were already having breakfast eating from soup bowls. Two of them were chattering together at a table while others preferred to sit alone. A lone Trader in a far, dimly lit corner was wearing a dark cloak with a hood over his head. He stared at Joshua when he came in but then quickly looked down at his soup. Joshua squinted to get a better look at him but he was interrupted.
“Good morning,” Galleon said as he wandered in stretching his arms and yawning. “Lovely beds they have here. Who knew that branches and sharp twigs could be so bleeding comfortable!” He walked over to the table where Joshua was sitting and took a seat beside him. He looked up at Joshua and winked.
For a minute, Joshua was worried Galleon was going to say something about Sarah and that awkward moment last night but he just smiled and said nothing. Joshua was relieved. Inexperienced in matters of the heart, he felt embarrassed about engaging in a conversation about his feelings for Sarah. Andrew came in wiping his eyes and took a seat by the fireplace next to them.
“Have you given any more thought to how we’re going to get to the Valley of Moross?” Andrew asked.
Joshua looked into the fireplace and sighed as if hoping it would provide inspiration.
“No,” he answered lowering his head. “If only we had that mirror.” He looked around at the others. “If it really can show the future, we might at least know when we’ll get there. How much farther is it anyway?” Joshua asked, turning to Galleon.
“Oh, still quite a few days travel yet. The River of Torrents runs north to south along the mountain pass and we’ll have to cross that to get there. That’s going to be about as easy as catching a wild Raetheon while blindfolded.” He raised his brow and nodded.
Joshua and Andrew looked at each other and then back at Galleon.
“Just exactly why will that be so hard?” Andrew inquired, frowning.
“Because of all the Razorfins, of course. The river is full of the vicious, toothy creatures at this time of the year. A young Woodsman like yourself would make a tempting meal for a full-grown Razorfin.”
Joshua and Andrew looked at each other again, wondering what a Razorfin was. Neither of them had heard of these before and had no intention of meeting one, either.
Suddenly the front door flung open, and in burst Sarah. She was cupping what looked like a wounded Raetheon in both hands. It was looking up at her and shrieking.
“Oh, hello,” she said, noticing the three of them sitting by the fire. “I didn’t realise you were awake. I found this little one hobbling down the path. I think he’s injured. He can’t be more than a few weeks old. I thought I’d bring him back here so Florelle could fix him up. Haven’t seen her have you?”
The boys looked at
each other and shook their heads.
“The poor thing has lost one of its toes. Not sure how it happened. I think a Wood-boar must have got it or something. Doesn’t look like it’s been caught in a trap. I caught an adult Raetheon in a trap once. Did I tell you? It wasn’t on purpose, mind you. It sort of stumbled into it by accident. I was really trying to catch…”
“Oh, me darling, you’ve got another one,” Florelle said to Sarah as she came through the door behind the counter and rushed over to take a look at the injured creature.
Andrew leaned towards Galleon and whispered, “Doesn’t she ever shut up?”
Florelle carefully took the injured chick from Sarah and dashed behind the counter to the row of small jars on the shelf. She squinted at the jars, pointing her finger at each in turn, reading frantically from the faded labels.
“Liquorice moss, Shroom seeds, boar treats, essence of fern, ah ‘ere we are, Yucust salve,” she said, her finger landing on the fifth jar.
After unscrewing its lid, she reached in and wiped a dollop of the pale, gooey paste onto two fingers and then gently rubbed it onto the chick’s injured foot. The frightened baby bird quivered as Florelle massaged the paste over its leg.
A few seconds later, it stretched its tiny wings and shook its head as if warding off any remaining pain. It then started cooing softly. Whatever it was in the jar, it seemed to do the trick.
“How long have you three been up?” Sarah asked as she came over to the table by the fireplace.
“Just a few minutes,” Joshua said jumping up and offering her his stool.
“Where have you been?” he asked. “Why are you out of breath?” He searched for another stool for himself. Andrew and Galleon cast each other a smile.
“Oh, I’ve been out exploring. It’s fascinating here. There are so many vines and bushes I’ve never seen before. We don’t have anything like these where I’m from. I must have walked a mile or more but I really am quite hungry now. I normally eat early but none of you were up yet and, well, I didn’t want to seem rude by eating before you. I am really very hungry now, though. What’s for breakfast? I’m starving.”
