ordered Mavin. “We can’t help him, but we can send help.” And they ran on, coming into a wider area in which the lodging houses they had sought all stood, one bearing a sign THE BALD BADGER near at hand.
The door jangled as they opened it, and a voice screamed at them from some other room. “Wait! Don’t move, now, just wait and I’ll get to ya. A minute. That’s all. I swear, only a minute, and I’ll get to ya. Are you there?”
“We’re here,” Mavin replied in a doubtful voice.
“A minute. I’ll get to ya. Everybody’s so impatient. Run, run. I’ll get to ya.” There was no sign of the person getting to them immediately. They looked at one another, then turned as a soft footfall whispered on the stairs behind them.
“Sirs,” said a gray voice. “You desire lodging?”
“Just a minute,” screamed the other voice. “Run, run.”
“A thrilpat,” exclaimed the colorless woman who owned the gray voice. “Over trained. A vocabulary of over twenty phrases, none of which are in the least useful. I’d sell it, except it has the mange.”
“Are you there?” screamed the voice hysterically. “Everyone is so impatient.”
“We need a room,” said Mertyn. “And there’s a man down the alley who fell down. I think he’s sick.”
The gray woman smoothed her tightly knotted hair, slick upon her skull as paint. “A room I can provide. Assistance for men who fall ill in alleys is outside my competence, young sir. When I have shown you what we have—little enough, but cheap. Lords, yes, cheap is the name of the house—when I have shown you, I’ll get the kitchen girl to run tell the watch about the sick man. Will that satisfy your sense of the appropriate? The honorable? The kindly? This way. Watch the step, second from the top. It wants nailing down.”
They followed through half darkness until a door opened, flooding the corridor with light. “Step in. You’ll need to share the bed, there’s only one, but it’s fresh straw and linens washed only last week.” The slant-roofed room peaked over the open window which let in the turmoil of the street. The bed was low, wide, and the place smelled clean.
“How much?” asked Mavin, in her bargaining voice.
“Coin or trade? Three minimunt in coin. If you were a Healer, I’d give it to you for a bit of work. You’re not, though, nor anything else useful to me at the moment. Well, then, three minimunt. With a bit of supper thrown in. Nothing fancy, a cup of this and that and some beer. By the by, my name is Pantiquod Palmfast. They call me Panty. Nothing to do with intimate trousering, young sir, so do not giggle in that unfortunate way. No, it has to do with breath, with breathing, with climbing these ghastly flights of stairs. Well, enough. Three minimunt, is it?” She smiled, a smile as gray as her voice, and went away, closing the door behind her. Mertyn was already on the bed.
“Will you remind her about the sick man, Mavin. I think she’ll probably forget it.”
“I think you’d better not worry about it, brother child. I’ve a feeling there are more unfortunates in Pfarb Durim than you could possibly give worrying time to. Still, I’ll remind her, for what good it may do. Next thing is to see where we might get some maps, don’t you think?”
“Shadowpeople, too,” he said drowsily, burrowing into the bed. “I’ll pull the latchstring in behind you and take a nap.”
“It isn’t like you to sleep in the bright day, child.”
“Well, Boldery was telling stories last night, about ghost pieces. Boldery tells good stories, but I didn’t get much sleep.”
“All right then,” she agreed. “But I’ll hammer on the door when I come back, so be ready. And you’re not to go out by yourself, even if I’m late.” She did not leave the door until she saw the end of the latchstring slide through the hole, then she went down the way they had come, stopping for a moment to speak to the gray woman who
The door jangled as they opened it, and a voice screamed at them from some other room. “Wait! Don’t move, now, just wait and I’ll get to ya. A minute. That’s all. I swear, only a minute, and I’ll get to ya. Are you there?”
“We’re here,” Mavin replied in a doubtful voice.
“A minute. I’ll get to ya. Everybody’s so impatient. Run, run. I’ll get to ya.” There was no sign of the person getting to them immediately. They looked at one another, then turned as a soft footfall whispered on the stairs behind them.
“Sirs,” said a gray voice. “You desire lodging?”
“Just a minute,” screamed the other voice. “Run, run.”
“A thrilpat,” exclaimed the colorless woman who owned the gray voice. “Over trained. A vocabulary of over twenty phrases, none of which are in the least useful. I’d sell it, except it has the mange.”
“Are you there?” screamed the voice hysterically. “Everyone is so impatient.”
“We need a room,” said Mertyn. “And there’s a man down the alley who fell down. I think he’s sick.”
The gray woman smoothed her tightly knotted hair, slick upon her skull as paint. “A room I can provide. Assistance for men who fall ill in alleys is outside my competence, young sir. When I have shown you what we have—little enough, but cheap. Lords, yes, cheap is the name of the house—when I have shown you, I’ll get the kitchen girl to run tell the watch about the sick man. Will that satisfy your sense of the appropriate? The honorable? The kindly? This way. Watch the step, second from the top. It wants nailing down.”
They followed through half darkness until a door opened, flooding the corridor with light. “Step in. You’ll need to share the bed, there’s only one, but it’s fresh straw and linens washed only last week.” The slant-roofed room peaked over the open window which let in the turmoil of the street. The bed was low, wide, and the place smelled clean.
“How much?” asked Mavin, in her bargaining voice.
“Coin or trade? Three minimunt in coin. If you were a Healer, I’d give it to you for a bit of work. You’re not, though, nor anything else useful to me at the moment. Well, then, three minimunt. With a bit of supper thrown in. Nothing fancy, a cup of this and that and some beer. By the by, my name is Pantiquod Palmfast. They call me Panty. Nothing to do with intimate trousering, young sir, so do not giggle in that unfortunate way. No, it has to do with breath, with breathing, with climbing these ghastly flights of stairs. Well, enough. Three minimunt, is it?” She smiled, a smile as gray as her voice, and went away, closing the door behind her. Mertyn was already on the bed.
“Will you remind her about the sick man, Mavin. I think she’ll probably forget it.”
“I think you’d better not worry about it, brother child. I’ve a feeling there are more unfortunates in Pfarb Durim than you could possibly give worrying time to. Still, I’ll remind her, for what good it may do. Next thing is to see where we might get some maps, don’t you think?”
“Shadowpeople, too,” he said drowsily, burrowing into the bed. “I’ll pull the latchstring in behind you and take a nap.”
“It isn’t like you to sleep in the bright day, child.”
“Well, Boldery was telling stories last night, about ghost pieces. Boldery tells good stories, but I didn’t get much sleep.”
“All right then,” she agreed. “But I’ll hammer on the door when I come back, so be ready. And you’re not to go out by yourself, even if I’m late.” She did not leave the door until she saw the end of the latchstring slide through the hole, then she went down the way they had come, stopping for a moment to speak to the gray woman who
Similar Books
