the Divide.”
“We
waited a season before we were sure of our chance.” This from Wheldrake,
entering the spirit of it, as if in a childish game, a knowing grin upon his
broad lips.
“Aye.
Others have waited longer.” The door opened silently and they entered a passage
lit by glowing yellow lamps, its walls as twisted inside as they were without;
its staircases rising in unlikely places and going where none could guess, its
passages and chambers appearing suddenly and always of peculiar shapes and
angles, sometimes brilliant with candles, sometimes gloomy and musty, as their
host led them on, deeper and deeper into the house until they came at last to a
large, cheerful hall in the centre of which was a great oaken table, lined with
benches—enough space for two score of hungry travelers. There was, however,
only one other guest, already helping herself to the rich stew steaming in a
pot over the hearth. She was dressed in simple clothes of russet and green, a
slender sword on her hip, a dagger to balance it, a muscular, full-hipped
figure, broad shoulders and a face of brooding beauty beneath a mass of
red-gold hair. She nodded to them as she swung her legs back over the bench and
began to eat, clearly showing she did not wish to talk.
Their
host dropped his voice. “I understand your fellow traveler to have experienced
exceptional inconvenience to her person and her ambitions just recently. She
has expressed some wish not to engage in conversation today. You will find all
you need here, gentlemen. There is a servant about somewhere who will see to
any particular needs, and I will return in a couple of hours to see what other
aid we can supply. We do not discourage failed venturers in Agnesh-Val or we
should never trade! It is our policy to help the failed ones just as we profit
from the successful ones. This appears both fair and sane to us.”
“And
so it is, sir,” said Wheldrake with approval. “You are of the Liberal
persuasion, evidently. One hears so much Toryism as one travels throughout the
rea—that is, the world.”
“We
believe in enlightened self-interest, sir, as I think do all civilized peoples.
It is in the interest of the community and that larger community beyond to
ensure that all are courteously and properly enabled to make what they wish of
themselves. Will you eat, sir? Will you eat?”
Elric
was aware of the woman’s moody eyes regarding them as they spoke together and
remarked to himself that he had not seen a face more lovely and more determined
since Cymoril had lived. Her wide blue eyes were steady and unselfconscious as
she chewed slowly, her thoughts unreadable. And then, suddenly, she smiled once
before she gave her full attention to her food, leaving Elric with more of a
mystery than before.
Having
helped their deep plates to the stew, which gave off a delicious smell, they
found themselves places at the table and ate for a while in silence until at
last the woman spoke. There was unexpected warm humour in her voice and a
certain heartiness which Elric found attractive. “What lie brought you this
free meal, boys?”
“A
misunderstanding, lady, rather than a lie,” said Wheldrake diplomatically, licking
his spoon and wondering whether to take a second trip to the cauldron.
“You
are no more traders than am I,” she said.
“That
was the chief misunderstanding. Apparently they can imagine no other kind of
traveler here.”
“Apparently
so. And you are recently here in this realm. By the river, no doubt.”
“I
do not understand the means,” said Elric, still cautious.
“But
you both seek the three sisters, of course.”
“It
seems
Magdalen Nabb
Lisa Williams Kline
David Klass
Shelby Smoak
Victor Appleton II
Edith Pargeter
P. S. Broaddus
Thomas Brennan
Logan Byrne
James Patterson