“It is not our business Kara, Arisha,” Theodore said. “We cannot interfere.”
The woman’s cries were silenced as the horrific sound was repeated.
Again, and again, and again.
Gar’rth ran ahead of the embassy, the sounds of her suffering a terror to him. He reached the door of the two-storey building and fled inside, his hands pressed over his ears, the scent of the woman’s blood taunting him.
“So you’ve come back then?”
A large man with a prominent moustache spoke in the werewolf language from behind a long table that served as a barrier between the inn’s kitchen and the dining area. They were alone, and Gar’rth’s confusion must have been visible on his face.
“Master Malak has ordered the inn to be put at your disposal while you remain in Canifis. No one else will be allowed in. Your friends will be safe here, and treated well. Master Malak has even sent cattle for them.”
“Will I be safe, Roavar?” Gar’rth asked the innkeeper.
The man shrugged.
“That will be up to Master Malak,” he replied. “And
Of all the people he knew, only Gar’rth’s mother had ever seen Drakan. But to her dying day she had refused to talk about her time in Meiyerditch.
“Why was Jerrod sent across the river after me?” he asked the innkeeper. “As a town elder you, if anyone, will know.”
Roavar shook his head.
“I don’t know,” the man replied. “Master Malak told Jerrod to go, and he did so. Even you with your soft heart should know that we don’t ask when told.”
The door opened behind Gar’rth and Theodore entered, followed by the rest of the embassy, Albertus supported between Gideon and Castimir. They set him down on the nearest stool where he slumped forward onto the table. Roaver greeted them without a hint of welcome.
“There are rooms upstairs,” he said. “The inn has been reserved for you. No harm will come to you here.” He peered at Albertus intently. “Strange,” he muttered. “It is rare to see one so old in Canifis.”
“I noticed that,” Kara said. “There are children and infants out there in the crowd, but there are no old people. Where are they all?”
“I am as old a wolf as you are like to see,” Roavar answered as he filled a jug of beer from a barrel. He set it on a tray and carried it across to the largest table, about which the embassy gathered. “When a man or woman is too old to be of any use to the town, then they are killed. Our race is not a wealthy one. We don’t make tools, we don’t manipulate metals, we don’t create art or literature. We just exist to serve, and we cannot afford to waste resources.”
“You
“Aye. Either that or they willingly go to Castle Drakan for the blood tithes,” Roavar explained. “Our race is extremely long-lived. It’s not unusual for us to live for several generations of men, as I myself have already surpassed. Yet our young are rare.”
“To survive in Morytania you must be strong,” Imre added with a cautious look to the embassy. “When old age comes to us, death is a blessed reprieve from such an enfeebled state.
“And remember, death is a far better option than undeath.”
Gar’rth turned to the nearest window-one that faced north onto the town’s centre. Through the cloudy glass he could just make out the crowd of people who had followed them. They stood, eerily silent, watching.
He saw young mothers with weak children stand at the forefront of the crowd. Among them, one held a baby that was too ill to cry, its frailty obvious.
Kara was at his side, and soon the entire group looked out.
“What a poor people,” Doric said quietly. “Those children are starving.”
“And yet we can do nothing,” Lord Despaard advised.
Kara flashed him an angry glare.
“We can try to help, can’t we? Perhaps ask Malak-”
“No, Kara. Lord Despaard is right.” Theodore’s tone was soft but forceful. “We are a diplomatic mission. If we start interfering in Canifis’s governance, then we will have erred, no matter how unpalatable that governance is.”
Imre nodded, his eyes hungry as he looked at Kara.
“The knight speaks truthfully, woman,” he said. “Interfere in such a way and you will break the conditions of your embassy.” His eyes remained fixed on her. “I for one would find that quite welcome, for I would relish the chance to show you the skills of a
“Have you taken care of our animals, as I asked?” Theodore interrupted sharply. “It would be unfortunate if Master Malak were to hear that they had been mistreated in any way.”
Imre growled and said nothing, then hastened to the door, pausing only as long as it took to cast a last look at Kara and Arisha. Neither woman flinched.
“One moment, Imre,” Lord Despaard called. “When are we to make the journey to Mieyerditch? How long are we to wait here in Canifis?”
Imre cringed slightly.
“Master Malak has left instructions that you are to wait here. He will send for you if
The werewolf vanished, and the embassy was left alone. Through the window they could see the guard surrounding the inn, most likely to prevent any from getting too close.
“What a dreadful place,” Castimir said, watching as their steeds were led away.
Gar’rth smiled without humour.
“Welcome to Canifis,” he said bitterly.
24
Ebenezer dreamed.
From far away he heard Eloise’s voice telling him about the children, of how happy they were, of how proud she was of him. He stretched out and found himself in bed.
His bed, from many years ago.
He felt a weight rest on his chest and he breathed in the familiar lavender smell of Eloise’s freshly washed hair. She had always liked lavender.
“The children will have a sister to play with very soon,” she whispered. “I think to call her Sally, after my sister.”
“What if it’s a boy? Could we call him Erasmus, after Sally’s husband? Should we?”
“It will be a girl,” she replied. “I know it. She will grow up in a happy household and you can continue with your tinkering. And we will grow old together in comfort. There isn’t much more one can ask than that.”
