tone was stern, brooking no refusal. Admittedly, Sorial hadn’t spent a lot of time in the girl’s company, but this is the first time he could recall when Vagrum didn’t defer to her or address her as “Milady.”
Alicia was taken aback.
“Your father left you here because he wanted you out of sight. If he intended for you to wait in the courtyard, he’d have left you in the courtyard. You can stay close to the door, but you’ll wait in the stable.”
“If I stay in here, I’m going to be sick again.”
“Then you can step outside to throw up.”
Alicia scowled but didn’t say anything else. After staring moodily at Vagrum for a few moments, she turned an equally black look in Sorial’s direction, as if blaming him for her current state of discomfort. He pointedly avoided meeting her eyes and returned to his work with a pitchfork.
Vagrum noticed that Carannan’s and Alicia’s mounts were the only ones occupying stalls. “Is business down?”
“Fewer late-Harvest merchants. With the end of the season crops withered, ain’t much buying or selling. Warburm’s trade ain’t down, though. Fewer overnighters but the common room is always full. People will always need to drink, he says, and the worse things get, the more they drink.”
Vagrum grunted his agreement. “It’s like that the world over.”
“Where are the mice?” asked Alicia. Sorial turned back to her and noticed she was scanning the floor.
“Some are dead - you can smell ’em - and others are burrowed under the straw where it’s cooler. They come out at night.”
“Sometimes, I think it might’ve been better being born a mouse,” mused Vagrum, sounding almost philosophical. “Eating, drinking, shitting, fucking all day and night. Wouldn’t be a bad life, even if it was a short one.”
“That’s all you do, anyway,” retorted Alicia.
Vagrum chuckled. He asked Sorial, “In this heat, does the innkeeper let you sleep indoors?”
“No. I never asked about it. Except in the cellar, it’s hot all over. The inn is cleaner but noisier. I’m used to sleeping here.”
“But the smell…” interjected Alicia.
“The whole city stinks. Every privy pit smells ten times worse. Out here, it’s shit and dead mice. Inside, it’s stale ale, vomit, piss, and sweat. Once you’re asleep, you don’t notice.” Admittedly, though, getting to sleep could be a problem. Tossing and turning had become commonplace of late.
“Something just moved,” squeaked Alicia, backing away from where she had been standing.
“Under the straw, there’s a nest with a mother and her new litter.” Sorial walked over and kicked away the covering, revealing a brown mouse and a half-dozen pink, hairless babies. Alicia initially took another step backward, then inched forward for a closer look.
“They’re ugly,” she pronounced.
Sorial covered them back up. “All babies are ugly.”
“Not people,” said Alicia.
“Including people. It just ain’t polite to say so. But human babies are as ugly as those mice.”
“True. Even you, Milady.” Vagrum was more visibly relaxed than on his previous visit.
Sorial returned to work. He had just finished feeding and watering the horse and pony when Alicia, who was lingering near the wide entranceway, observed, “There’s a storm coming.”
Vagrum and Sorial followed her gaze. The sky to the north was thick with clouds as black as pitch. Even at this distance, their underbelly was tickled by frequent flashes of lightning. Sorial thought he could detect the faint echoes of thunder. It had been weeks since Vantok had seen anything but blue skies and clear nights.
“At least we’ll get some rain. Maybe it will break the heat,” said Sorial.
“Not likely. It looks like a dry storm.” Vagrum frowned. “Haven’t seen one of those in years - maybe not since afore you was born. Bad things, they are. Wind and lightning and hail, but no rain. The lightning starts fires, the winds whip them up, and
Alicia was taken aback.
“Your father left you here because he wanted you out of sight. If he intended for you to wait in the courtyard, he’d have left you in the courtyard. You can stay close to the door, but you’ll wait in the stable.”
“If I stay in here, I’m going to be sick again.”
“Then you can step outside to throw up.”
Alicia scowled but didn’t say anything else. After staring moodily at Vagrum for a few moments, she turned an equally black look in Sorial’s direction, as if blaming him for her current state of discomfort. He pointedly avoided meeting her eyes and returned to his work with a pitchfork.
Vagrum noticed that Carannan’s and Alicia’s mounts were the only ones occupying stalls. “Is business down?”
“Fewer late-Harvest merchants. With the end of the season crops withered, ain’t much buying or selling. Warburm’s trade ain’t down, though. Fewer overnighters but the common room is always full. People will always need to drink, he says, and the worse things get, the more they drink.”
Vagrum grunted his agreement. “It’s like that the world over.”
“Where are the mice?” asked Alicia. Sorial turned back to her and noticed she was scanning the floor.
“Some are dead - you can smell ’em - and others are burrowed under the straw where it’s cooler. They come out at night.”
“Sometimes, I think it might’ve been better being born a mouse,” mused Vagrum, sounding almost philosophical. “Eating, drinking, shitting, fucking all day and night. Wouldn’t be a bad life, even if it was a short one.”
“That’s all you do, anyway,” retorted Alicia.
Vagrum chuckled. He asked Sorial, “In this heat, does the innkeeper let you sleep indoors?”
“No. I never asked about it. Except in the cellar, it’s hot all over. The inn is cleaner but noisier. I’m used to sleeping here.”
“But the smell…” interjected Alicia.
“The whole city stinks. Every privy pit smells ten times worse. Out here, it’s shit and dead mice. Inside, it’s stale ale, vomit, piss, and sweat. Once you’re asleep, you don’t notice.” Admittedly, though, getting to sleep could be a problem. Tossing and turning had become commonplace of late.
“Something just moved,” squeaked Alicia, backing away from where she had been standing.
“Under the straw, there’s a nest with a mother and her new litter.” Sorial walked over and kicked away the covering, revealing a brown mouse and a half-dozen pink, hairless babies. Alicia initially took another step backward, then inched forward for a closer look.
“They’re ugly,” she pronounced.
Sorial covered them back up. “All babies are ugly.”
“Not people,” said Alicia.
“Including people. It just ain’t polite to say so. But human babies are as ugly as those mice.”
“True. Even you, Milady.” Vagrum was more visibly relaxed than on his previous visit.
Sorial returned to work. He had just finished feeding and watering the horse and pony when Alicia, who was lingering near the wide entranceway, observed, “There’s a storm coming.”
Vagrum and Sorial followed her gaze. The sky to the north was thick with clouds as black as pitch. Even at this distance, their underbelly was tickled by frequent flashes of lightning. Sorial thought he could detect the faint echoes of thunder. It had been weeks since Vantok had seen anything but blue skies and clear nights.
“At least we’ll get some rain. Maybe it will break the heat,” said Sorial.
“Not likely. It looks like a dry storm.” Vagrum frowned. “Haven’t seen one of those in years - maybe not since afore you was born. Bad things, they are. Wind and lightning and hail, but no rain. The lightning starts fires, the winds whip them up, and
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