was wide and well traveled, as they expected
one of the primary routes between the capital of Marquewood
and the rest of the nation to be. Not only were there the usual
wagon trains of goods going to and from Sachalin, but there
was much traffic by individuals and small groups. Joe noticed
that most of the people going away from the city looked rather
ordinary—merchants, deliverymen, carpenters, all the people
a capital would be expected to have. The traffic in the city's
direction, though, beyond the commercial trade, seemed a different
sort. Old women in black cloaks and hoods, small groups
dressed in varicolored robes, and mysterious, mystical, even
sinister folk were the rule.
Joe stopped at a roadside inn that was doing a large business
Page 50
Chalker, Jack L - Demons of the Dancing Gods
and went inside. He was getting really tired and he figured that
they would most likely have a room available at midday. Few
landlords could resist the possibility of renting a room twice
in one day, and he could use a bed after so long on the road.
The innkeeper, a big, burly man named Isinsson, didn't
disappoint him, although a large eyebrow was raised at the
sight of a groggy Marge wearing only dark glasses.
The price was reasonable, and Joe agreed readily to leave
by eight in the evening. The room was small but adequate, and
the double bed had a genuine feather mattress. They looked at
it groggily, and Joe said, "Too bad. If we weren't both so dead,
we could make real use of it, as the landlord thinks we will."
"Maybe we'll wake up early," she muttered and lay face
down on the bed. Joe looked at the velvety wings sticking out
from her back and, with a silent wish that she didn't toss and
turn in her sleep, he secured the door and joined her in slumber.
When he awoke, to his great disappointment, it was after
seven. Marge, he saw, had already arisen and gone from the
room. For a second, he was worried about that, remembering
the last time she'd disappeared from a hotel, but she hadn't
been fairy then. He was pretty sure she could take care of
herself. At least, he hoped so. The next dragon they met might
not have a neurotic fear of fair maidens.
He packed up and went down to the main floor, which was
fairly crowded with traffic. He didn't see Marge anyplace, but
he decided not to get really worried until it was time to leave.
There were no empty tables; but with such a crowd, any
empty chair belonged to the first person to sit in it, and he
picked one with a small group of ordinary-looking people and
ordered a heavy meal.
The people at the table were a little taken aback by the giant
barbarian in their company, but they soon relaxed and wanned
to him as the place filled with those more mysterious sorts and
various kinds of not very pleasant-appearing fairies.
The squat, middle-aged man with a light beard and no mustache
was Jeklir the grainer; the pudgy, middle-aged woman
with him was his wife Asarak; and the teen-ager with them
62
DEMONS OF THE DANCING GODS
who looked every bit their progeny was their son Takgis.
"So you're from Sachalin," Joe noted. "On your way home
from a trip?"
"Going on one, rather," Jeklir responded. "Time to visit the
wife's relatives in Mobadan, at least for a week or two."
Joe's eyebrows raised a bit. "I would think this would be
your busy season. I came through a good bit of farmland, and
it looked as if the harvest was just coming up."
Page 51
Chalker, Jack L - Demons of the Dancing Gods
Jeklir's eyes darted nervously at the crowd around the inn.
"Um, usually you would be right, barbarian, but ordinarily
merchants would welcome a convention, not close up shop and
leave as it dawned, if you get my meaning."
Joe did. "I guess the ones coming will be a pretty scary
group, if what we've seen is any indication. My—partner—
and I ran into some unlucky thieves this past morning who had
run afoul of a sorcerer."
"You have no idea,"
one of the primary routes between the capital of Marquewood
and the rest of the nation to be. Not only were there the usual
wagon trains of goods going to and from Sachalin, but there
was much traffic by individuals and small groups. Joe noticed
that most of the people going away from the city looked rather
ordinary—merchants, deliverymen, carpenters, all the people
a capital would be expected to have. The traffic in the city's
direction, though, beyond the commercial trade, seemed a different
sort. Old women in black cloaks and hoods, small groups
dressed in varicolored robes, and mysterious, mystical, even
sinister folk were the rule.
Joe stopped at a roadside inn that was doing a large business
Page 50
Chalker, Jack L - Demons of the Dancing Gods
and went inside. He was getting really tired and he figured that
they would most likely have a room available at midday. Few
landlords could resist the possibility of renting a room twice
in one day, and he could use a bed after so long on the road.
The innkeeper, a big, burly man named Isinsson, didn't
disappoint him, although a large eyebrow was raised at the
sight of a groggy Marge wearing only dark glasses.
The price was reasonable, and Joe agreed readily to leave
by eight in the evening. The room was small but adequate, and
the double bed had a genuine feather mattress. They looked at
it groggily, and Joe said, "Too bad. If we weren't both so dead,
we could make real use of it, as the landlord thinks we will."
"Maybe we'll wake up early," she muttered and lay face
down on the bed. Joe looked at the velvety wings sticking out
from her back and, with a silent wish that she didn't toss and
turn in her sleep, he secured the door and joined her in slumber.
When he awoke, to his great disappointment, it was after
seven. Marge, he saw, had already arisen and gone from the
room. For a second, he was worried about that, remembering
the last time she'd disappeared from a hotel, but she hadn't
been fairy then. He was pretty sure she could take care of
herself. At least, he hoped so. The next dragon they met might
not have a neurotic fear of fair maidens.
He packed up and went down to the main floor, which was
fairly crowded with traffic. He didn't see Marge anyplace, but
he decided not to get really worried until it was time to leave.
There were no empty tables; but with such a crowd, any
empty chair belonged to the first person to sit in it, and he
picked one with a small group of ordinary-looking people and
ordered a heavy meal.
The people at the table were a little taken aback by the giant
barbarian in their company, but they soon relaxed and wanned
to him as the place filled with those more mysterious sorts and
various kinds of not very pleasant-appearing fairies.
The squat, middle-aged man with a light beard and no mustache
was Jeklir the grainer; the pudgy, middle-aged woman
with him was his wife Asarak; and the teen-ager with them
62
DEMONS OF THE DANCING GODS
who looked every bit their progeny was their son Takgis.
"So you're from Sachalin," Joe noted. "On your way home
from a trip?"
"Going on one, rather," Jeklir responded. "Time to visit the
wife's relatives in Mobadan, at least for a week or two."
Joe's eyebrows raised a bit. "I would think this would be
your busy season. I came through a good bit of farmland, and
it looked as if the harvest was just coming up."
Page 51
Chalker, Jack L - Demons of the Dancing Gods
Jeklir's eyes darted nervously at the crowd around the inn.
"Um, usually you would be right, barbarian, but ordinarily
merchants would welcome a convention, not close up shop and
leave as it dawned, if you get my meaning."
Joe did. "I guess the ones coming will be a pretty scary
group, if what we've seen is any indication. My—partner—
and I ran into some unlucky thieves this past morning who had
run afoul of a sorcerer."
"You have no idea,"
Similar Books
