by C. R. Daems
Emmund jumped down from the driver’s seat and opened the carriage door. “Madam Girta is a friend of ours and owns the Inn. Girta does most of the cooking in the morning and works in the tavern later in the evening. She hires people to serve and clean up the kitchen, tavern, and sleeping rooms. She also has a small stable. Girta has agreed to take you, Liada, as a cook and you, Zeph, to work in the stable. Come. I’ll introduce you.”
The building was bigger than it looked from the outside because it was deeper than wide. The dining room was almost full and buzzed with low conversation. They continued through the empty tavern and into the kitchen. As they entered, a tall thin woman was taking loaves of bread out of the iron oven. It smelled wonderful and Liada’s mouth watered. She and Zeph hadn’t eaten for over twelve hours.
“Madam Girta, this is Jatia and Zack, the two I talked to you about.”
Girta looked them up and down before saying anything.
“Emmund says you can cook. Can you? I can’t afford to lose customers.” She stood with hands on her hips, staring at Liada. Girta seemed to be a no-nonsense woman, who reminded Liada of Wilorm.
“Yes, Mam. I’m not a master cook, but I’ve had experience in two inns.”
“Good, you may work out. I will tell you the menu each morning and you will tell me if you can’t or are unsure of how to cook it. Now you,” Girta said as she turned towards Zeph, “can you take care of a stable?”
“Yes, madam. I’ve apprenticed under a master blacksmith.”
“Good, maybe I can take in additional work if you can work leather. Emmund, they are acceptable.” Girta talked to him like a mother does to a child after he’d done something reasonably well.
His lips twitched, but he didn’t quite smile. “Thank you. Jatia, Zack, I will see you later,” Emmund said and left.
“Come I will show you to your rooms.” Girta marched across the kitchen and out the back door. Liada and Zeph followed meekly with a glance at each other and Liada hid her grin behind her hand as she pretended to cough. Girta led them to a small building with a row of attached rooms. “Those two. You can decide who gets which one. You can rest and eat today. I’ll expect you to be fresh to start tomorrow.” She marched back toward the kitchen.
Zeph opened the first door and looked inside. It was small, a single bed with sheets, blankets, and a pillow stacked neatly at the end of the bed. A plain wooden chair sat under a window, and a wooden box against the wall to store one’s belongings with a candle sitting on top.
“Seems adequate for our needs,” Zeph said. He laughed. “Better than a dungeon…Jatia. I’ll have to practice if I’m going to remember that.”
“Sounds like we have time to wander around the city…Zack. I’m interested in seeing the—”
“Market,” Zeph interrupted with another laugh.
“Yes. I think the market will tell us a lot about the people here. Anyway, the market’s fun.” Liada stuck her tongue out. “This room’s mine since I know it’s clean and has bedding.”
Zeph snorted and opened the other door.
“Same.”
* * * *
The next morning before the sun was up, Liada dressed and walked to the kitchen. It was typical of an inn’s kitchens: two large ovens, two long tables for food preparation, storage cabinets, and lots of pots and pans hanging from hooks. She’d just finished starting the fire when Girta opened the door and looked in.
“Good, not afraid to do things on your own. For breakfast, we’ll serve potatoes, scrambled eggs, potato pancakes, bread, and sausages. For dinner a stew, you choose, and a rabbit dish. Naturally, potatoes and bread,” Girta said, watching Liada as she talked.
Yes, I can really cook, Liada thought and nodded but couldn’t stop a small smile. Well, better than laughing out loud.
“I’ll be back in an hour to see how you are doing. Customers will want food before they leave about a half-hour after that.” Girta left the kitchen.
Guess you don’t want to stay and chat.
Liada smiled and waved goodbye to the closed door.
Both meals went well. Girta stopped in well before both meals and sampled each dish.
“You’ll do, Jatia. I wasn’t sure I believed Emmund. He wanted a place to stash you. I knew he’d tell me anything to get me to agree. But I work too hard to take time to train a youngling. You and Zack seem to know what you’re doing.”
My goodness, does she always move at a march? At least old Girta can recognize good…very good food, Liada mused. She’d bet Girta had four or five meals she prepared regularly and that were the extent of her cooking knowledge. But she shouldn’t complain. She had a real job and a legitimate reason to be in Osshaft. Besides, she was finally getting to see someplace new. Best of all, no one had tried to kidnap her yet. Things could be much worse.
* * * *
Everything went well the next several days and Girta had stopped tasting the meals Liada prepared. Since the customers appeared to like basic food, Liada made no effort to decorate them. She’d just finished the last meal for the day, tired after a full day on her feet and wrestling with the big heavy iron pots. She made her way slowly back to her room, rubbing the small of her back. When she opened the door, Emmund was sitting in her chair.
“Make yourself at home. Are you comfortable? Would you like me to get you something to drink?” Liada asked, eyes narrowed and lips pursed.
“I can’t stand outside waiting,” Emmund said. “It seems that you and ‘Zack’ are doing well, and Madam Girta is pleased.”
“How come she tells you and not me?” Liada asked.
Everyone’s quick with criticism and slow with praise.
He shrugged, but a corner of his mouth twitched. “Back to business. Can you have your ‘friend’ watch Sechael and Rychael? If not both, watch Rychael.” Emmund stood up. Suddenly, the room felt crowded and Emmund much too close for her comfort.
“Do you know where they’re staying?”
“Rychael’s house is at 45 Vistan Street, off of Jutor Street. Sechael is staying with her. One more thing. A senior priest from Ostono will arrive in two days. He’s coming to see a senior priest at the Roganista Temple. I know your friend can’t go near the temple. But if you can think of some way to find what he wants, it may help.”
Liada eyed him thoughtfully. “And what are you going to do?” Liada asked.
“I find things for you to do.” He laughed, opened the door, and slipped out.
She felt a strong urge to stick her tongue out at his back. “Tali, Kaim, can you do that for me?” Liada asked. As she did, she felt one land on each shoulder.
“Yes, Kaim and I will watch them for you. I’ll watch Sechael,” Tali said.
“And I’ll watch Rychael. She knows the city and so do I,” Kaim said.
“Thank you, my friends. I’ll try the temple.”
“Be careful. The priests are dangerous,” they said together. Liada felt them lift off and Tali’s wing as it brushed her cheek.
A few minutes later Zeph knocked and Liada let him in.
“So we’re settled. What now?” he asked and sat on the bed.
Liada paced around the little room. “Oh, Emmund only wants the impossible, of course. He wants Sechael and Rychael watched and to know what two senior priests talk about.”
“What? Is he crazy?”
“Just pushy,” Liada said and laughed. “Let’s go to the market. I need to get out of here.”
* * * *
“Well, did you have fun…Jatia?” Zeph asked when they were finally on their way back to the Inn.
“Oh, yes.”
“I noticed a lot of people didn’t bargain, they just paid the price or asked for a cheaper price, which most of the time they didn’t get.”
“Rich people don’t bother or care and won’t lower themselves to bargain with vendors. It’s considered beneath them.”
“You could afford to pay more.”
“But where would be the fun in that? And ho
w could I afford to get that healer for my dying father?” Liada giggled.
“But why did you buy those clothes? You don’t need them.”
“I’m going into the Roganista Temple when the senior priest comes to the city. I’d stand out in these clothes. I saw you watching the local girls, especially that one with the long, black hair. Am I dressed like they were?”
Zeph blushed fiery red but he shook his head no.
“I watched the unmarried women. Then I shopped for a skirt out of gauzy material and a tunic.”
“Even in different clothes, you shouldn’t go to the temple. They might recognize you. They couldn’t recognize me.” He scowled at her.
“Maybe…but I got clothes for me, so I’ll have to go this time.” Liada was careful not to smile. Zeph didn’t speak the rest of the way to the Inn.
* * * *
It took Liada an hour making her way through the crowded streets to reach the temple at the far end of the main road. Its pink marble towers soared high above the surrounding buildings and glistened in the sunlight. The temple must have taken years to build and thousands of workers. Inside, the temple didn’t seem crowded but people were coming and going through the bronze doors. A junior priest stood with a cup that he stuck out at anyone entering, to make sure they paid tribute. Liada walked up the long marble stairs and dropped three coppers into the bowl, and the priest gave her a small token on a string to wear. Some of the visitors had strings with many tokens of various colors. Her token was brown. The color probably showed the amount of the donation.
She gaped at the inside of the temple. It was an open circular room that would have held two of her parent’s Inn. Marble benches circled a statue three persons high, intended to represent a Quag. It was perfectly formed with beautiful colors. The statue appeared to be a cross between what Tali had described as a Firebird and the Seadragon she’d seen. The face and body were firebird-like and delicate leaf-like structures floated out from the body.
Elaborate life-size frescos ran along the walls. Starting on the left was a scene with humans building and working. The next showed humans and First Ones together. The third showed the First Ones encouraging the humans to fight each other. Next, the humans fighting each other and the First Ones helping humans to kill other humans. Each fresco was painted in brilliant colors. Ironically, the colors of the First Ones were dull and their shapes twisted. The frescos distorted the truth, to convince people that the Priests were their saviors. Liada nodded.
As she stood there staring at the Roganistas’ interpretation of the First Ones, the Quag, and their version of history, a junior priest about her age came running inside, entered a side door, and disappeared. A few minutes later, a bald, wrinkle-faced priest with silver trim on his robe made his stately way through the main doors.
Another senior pried opened the side door just in time to meet him. “Honorable Roward, it is good to see you.”
They bowed to each other. Liada could just barely hear, so she drifted a few feet in their direction, keeping her gaze on the frescoes.
“Honorable Hadonn, I’ve come to see if you are prepared.” Liada tried to look like she stood scrutinizing the fresco’s every detail. Because of their next remark, Liada thought they had realized she could have heard them. “As you know, Hadonn, the Quag has alerted us that the First Ones are planning an attack here in Sporish, and we want to ensure you are ready to defend the city.” They walked past Liada and went through a door to her left.
Liada continued following the scenes around the room. In all of them, the Quag were beautifully colored and perfect in shape, much like the true First Ones. The frescoes were gorgeously painted even if they told lies. She stopped and sat on one of the benches along with a scattering of others. After a while, both priests came out. Seeing her, they walked over and stopped.
“Were you listening to us before?” the Sporish priest asked.
She stood, keeping her gaze respectfully on her feet. “I heard you talking, honorable one.”
“Come with us,” the priest said and took her upper arm in a hard grasp.
They escorted her into the room they had just come from. Intricately woven rugs covered the floor and colorful tapestries hung on the walls. Narrow windows looked out onto a garden. A long wooden table surrounded by chairs with blue silk cushions dominated the room.
“And what did you hear?” the priest demanded.
The other one frowned at her. Liada wasn’t sure if it was for being where she could overhear their conversation or at themselves for having talked in front of her. She had to be careful with her answers or she would never make it out of this temple.
“I think you said you were here to help protect the city, honorable one.”
“And why do you think that?”
“Because the First Ones are always looking for ways to kill humans. If it weren’t for the Priests of Roganista they would have killed us all long ago—like they tried to do in the past.” Liada kept her head bowed but she knew the two priests were looking at each other and making gestures.
“And who would you tell what we said?”
“There is no need, honorable ones. Everyone knows you are our faithful protectors.”
If I wasn’t so scared I’d choke on the words.
Liada tried to keep her face calm and head bowed.
“Yes, you are right. We are ever vigilant in the people’s protection. The Roganista Priests command that you talk to no one about our conversation. We don’t want the First Ones to hear that we are prepared for them. Do you understand?”
“Yes, honorable one. I wouldn’t help the First Ones. They’re evil.”
“You can go but remember what I said.”
Liada barely made it out the door on her trembling legs. She collapsed on a bench. The door opened a crack and one of the priests stood watching. If she’d rushed out, she wondered if they may have taken that as eagerness to tell someone. Perhaps it was a good thing her legs wouldn’t have carried her.
Chapter 8
Sporish: Osshaft
When her legs quit shaking, Liada strolled out of the temple. She took her time walking down the steps and chose to take Arbor Street home. The priest might have his Quag following her. She had no way to determine whether he did or not, so she kept walking past the street to the Whaler Inn. She had one advantage. Quags didn’t have circles. They couldn’t leave one to watch her for forever. But how long?
She was so busy thinking about her problem, Liada reached Circle Road, facing the market without realizing it. She looked around in surprise. She wasn’t interested in shopping today, but she had no place to go. The market would be a good place to think. If a Quag was following her, wandering the streets would be suspicious behavior. Shopping at the market, on the other hand, would be normal. Decision made, she walked down to the fish market and purchased several large fishes, and started up Jutor Street to the Inn to find Girta in the kitchen.
“Mam, I stopped by the markets today and decided to purchase some fresh fish. If you don’t object, I’ll cook them tomorrow,” Liada said. Now she had an excuse for going to the market and for buying the fish. She had timed her arrival at the Inn with the setting sun. If she were being followed, the Quag would leave an energy trail that she hoped Tali and Kaim would notice when they returned.
“That’s a good idea, Jatia. We haven’t had a fish meal since you started cooking.” Girta picked up several loaves of bread and returned to the dining room. Liada felt weak in the knees as she headed for her room.
“Lia…Jatia, where have you been? I’ve been worried all day,” Zeph said. His face was flushed, and he was nervously moving from one foot to the other. Liada noticed his thumb was swollen and red.
“What happened to your thumb, Zack?” After today, Liada decided they couldn’t be too careful. A slip of the tongue could get them arrested or killed.
“I was thinking about your…trip to see the temple and hit it with a hammer. How did it go?” Liada could
see Zeph was making an effort to choose his words.
“The temple was magnificent and the frescoes beautiful. It was worth the long walk to see it.” Zeph looked confused and his mouth opened several times but no sound emerged. Liada decided that they would need some gesture or code words to indicate someone could be spying on them. Just then, she felt Tali land on her shoulder, her wings lightly brushing her neck. Liada opened the door to her room, and motioned for Zeph to follow her. He looked both ways before he closed the door.
“Tali, was I followed by a Quag?”
Zeph’s mouth dropped open and he sat with a thump.
“Not today. There is no energy trail around the Inn.”
“I’m sorry, Zeph. I couldn’t say anything until I could be sure I wasn’t followed. I went to the temple and waited while studying the frescoes. I got lucky. The Ostono priest met the Sporish one while I was there. When they realized I could hear what they said, they forced me into one of their rooms and questioned me. They let me go, but I couldn’t be sure a Quag hadn’t followed me.”
Zeph came out of his chair, his voice rising. “They questioned you?”
“Yes. We have to be alert every minute. And we also need a secret sign or code word to let each other know that it isn’t safe.”
“How about ‘Uncle Rourn’ for when we can’t speak, and…scratch your ear with one finger indicating someone may be listening?”
“I like both of those,” Liada said and smiled. “What did you find out, Tali?”
Zeph leaned close to Liada to listen to Tali’s report.
“Kaim and I went to Rychael’s mansion. Several persons visited, including a junior priest. Kaim followed one in, and I waited outside. After everyone left, nothing happened for several hours. A man arrived at the servant’s entrance, although he didn’t look like a tradesman or servant. The collar of his cloak hid his face. He stayed quite a while and Kaim left with him. Sechael never went out all that time, so I decided to return. I left one of my circle to watch.”
“Tali, have you ever been in a Roganista Temple?” Zeph asked.
