Free The Malmillard Codex by K.G. McAbee Page B

of his adventure in the alley, he wondered?
Yes…of course…Val opened his mouth….
    A harried boy, his apron stained with an
archipelago of greasy spots, arrived at that instant with a deep
tureen clasped to his hollow bosom. He set it down with solicitous
care, then dashed off and returned with two wide shallow bowls,
spoons, and a long loaf of brown bread on a tray.
    "Soup," the boy announced unnecessarily,
dealing out the bowls and spoon and dishing up helpings of a savory
liquid swimming with unrecognizable chunks of green and brown.
    A sturdy woman, her face a reverse mirror
image of the dour young man's, approached their table. "Welcome,
welcome," she sang, "welcome, most honored guests. My sister gave
orders that I was to treat you well, so ask for what you wish, I
pray you."
    "This is an excellent beginning, madam,"
Madryn said around a mouthful of soup. "A pair of bottles would not
be amiss."
    "Our best wine, Leone, my son," trilled the
woman as she danced away on cheerful feet.
    The dour-faced young man trudged over with a
dusty bottle and two mugs in his hands. He ripped a cork out as if
it had done him an injury and poured both mugs to the brim,
emptying the bottle in the process. Then he stamped away, the spent
bottle hanging from one morose hand.
    "What strange coupling produced that most
opposite of sons?" wondered Madryn as she tasted her wine.
    Since Val had been wondering the same thing,
he grinned weakly and shook his head at her echo of his own
thoughts.
    Too soon, the soup was finished. Val wiped
his mouth on his hand, seized his mug and downed the contents with
one huge gulp. The fiery wine coursed through his veins, adding
strength to his weakened muscles, clearing his still-addled
brain.
    "I was walking around the town earlier and…"
Val began, anxious to tell Madryn of the strange happenings in the
alleyway.
    "And I have found us a ship to Lakazsh; it
leaves tomorrow at noon," she interrupted. "I'm…eager to be shut of
this pestiferous place, and we need to get to Lakazsh before the
yearly caravan leaves for the mountains. If we don't, we'll have to
travel alone, and that's not the safest way to journey to the Janus
Ridge."
    Val nodded. "While I was walking," he began
again, "I entered—"
    The harried boy reappeared with another
tray, his return timed to coincide with the emptying of their soup
bowls. Piling the dirty bowls on top of each other, he dealt out
two plates already heaped with grilled fish and bread.
    Madryn leaned closer to her plate and gave a
suspicious sniff. She picked up a piece of fish that had fallen
away from the bones and popped it into her mouth. "Good," she
mumbled. "Do go on, Val. You were walking in town. And?"
    Val opened his mouth—then shut it. What
could he tell her? The images were fading away even as he tried to
grasp them. He remembered little more than awakening in the alley,
a dirty boy slapping his face.
    "It's a strange town," he said at last.
    Madryn nodded. "Well, we won't be here much
longer, and that's a relief. Eat your supper."
    They exchanged no more words as the fish
disappeared, followed by huge slabs of yellow pudding that tasted
faintly of grapes.
    At last, they were both replete and sleepy
after too much food and wine. Val had almost managed to still the
questions that still plagued him. He leaned back in his chair and
gazed about the crowded room.
    Madryn's hand locked onto his knee under the
cover of the table. Val just managed not to jump; he also just
managed not to let a silly smile spread across his face.
    "Those three, there at the table closest the
door. I think they're watching us," she whispered, her lips barely
moving.
    Val glanced about the room again, his eyes
moving idly as one who has dined too well and is interested in
nothing. The three that Madryn pointed out—two men and a woman—were
armed with swords and daggers. They sat, sipping from mugs, their
eyes playing over the entire room.
    Except for the table where sat Madryn