there ain’t no rain to put them out. City’s bone dry as it is. We’re in for a bad time.”
“What’s the point of a storm without rain?” asked Alicia. “I’d love to run naked through a downpour.”
Sorial caught himself thinking that was something he wouldn’t mind seeing.
“And you, stableboy, could use a bath - one that doesn’t involve trespassing on someone else’s property.”
“Don’t see many of these.” Vagrum stared at the slowly advancing mass of impenetrable darkness. When the clouds arrived, they would blot out the sun and turn day into night. “It’s an ill wind that blows one here at this time. I wonder what we did to anger the gods.”
“Some say the gods are no more, that we have to look after ourselves.”
Vagrum grunted in response. “How sturdy is that roof?” he asked, gazing dubiously at the rafters.
“I thought you said there wouldn’t be any rain?”
Vagrum shrugged. “Ain’t rain I’m worried ’bout. I’m sure this stable’s been rained on thousands of times. No, it’s the hail.”
“What’s hail?” asked Sorial.
Alicia gaped at him, as if he had said something incomprehensibly ignorant.
Vagrum ignored her expression. “Ice balls. Strange as it may seem, hail usually happens when it’s hot. Not much hail in this part of the world, but I’ve seen some bigger’n a man’s balls. If the roof’s rotted, they’ll punch holes in it and we’ll be ducking for our lives.”
“It should hold.” Sorial was dubious about the claim that there could be a storm of ice balls with the furnace-like temperatures outside. He was more concerned about lightning hitting the stable and starting a fire. The place was a tinderbox.
The storm’s approach was slow but inexorable. By the time the clouds had filled half the sky, people outside began taking notice and scurried to find a safe port until it blew over. The rumbling of thunder was audible over the everyday din.
“Would you like to sit down?” asked Sorial of Alicia, gesturing toward one of the many bales of hay.
She took a step forward, but a look of consternation crossed her face. “I don’t think so.” He could tell by the droop of her shoulders that she was tired. The daughters of dukes apparently weren't accustomed to spending long hours standing. Taking pity on her, he located his discarded tunic and laid it atop a hay bale, figuring she might be more willing to sit on it, even though it was just as filthy as the straw it covered.
Without a word, she sat. Out of her line of sight, Vagrum nodded approvingly.
Not much was said as the three watched the advancing clouds. When they passed in front of the sun, a false dusk descended. Since it was afternoon, none of the street lanterns were lit, making it seem darker than it actually was. Of course, the blackness wasn’t absolute, broken as it was at frequent intervals by flashes of lightning. Most of the bright white branches flickered from cloud to cloud, brightening the canopy above, but there were occasional downward bolts punctuated by loud blasts of thunder.
“The wind is hot, but it still feels good.” Alicia undid the restraints on her hair and let it swing free so the breeze could catch it.
Sorial was forced to agree. There was nothing refreshing in the arid wind, but any stirring of the air was welcome after the stagnant oppressiveness of recent days.
With a crack of thunder so loud that it shook the stable’s rafters and caused all three of them to start, the hail began. At first, the chunks of ice were like pebbles, but they soon doubled and tripled in size. The noise on the roof was deafening and, in the streets, citizens were yelping in pain and fear as they dashed for cover. The lightning flashes came so frequently that the pulsating illumination was continual and the thunder was loud enough to compete with the cacophony of hailstones. Conversation was impossible.
Vagrum endured the storm with an expression of seeming stoic
“What’s the point of a storm without rain?” asked Alicia. “I’d love to run naked through a downpour.”
Sorial caught himself thinking that was something he wouldn’t mind seeing.
“And you, stableboy, could use a bath - one that doesn’t involve trespassing on someone else’s property.”
“Don’t see many of these.” Vagrum stared at the slowly advancing mass of impenetrable darkness. When the clouds arrived, they would blot out the sun and turn day into night. “It’s an ill wind that blows one here at this time. I wonder what we did to anger the gods.”
“Some say the gods are no more, that we have to look after ourselves.”
Vagrum grunted in response. “How sturdy is that roof?” he asked, gazing dubiously at the rafters.
“I thought you said there wouldn’t be any rain?”
Vagrum shrugged. “Ain’t rain I’m worried ’bout. I’m sure this stable’s been rained on thousands of times. No, it’s the hail.”
“What’s hail?” asked Sorial.
Alicia gaped at him, as if he had said something incomprehensibly ignorant.
Vagrum ignored her expression. “Ice balls. Strange as it may seem, hail usually happens when it’s hot. Not much hail in this part of the world, but I’ve seen some bigger’n a man’s balls. If the roof’s rotted, they’ll punch holes in it and we’ll be ducking for our lives.”
“It should hold.” Sorial was dubious about the claim that there could be a storm of ice balls with the furnace-like temperatures outside. He was more concerned about lightning hitting the stable and starting a fire. The place was a tinderbox.
The storm’s approach was slow but inexorable. By the time the clouds had filled half the sky, people outside began taking notice and scurried to find a safe port until it blew over. The rumbling of thunder was audible over the everyday din.
“Would you like to sit down?” asked Sorial of Alicia, gesturing toward one of the many bales of hay.
She took a step forward, but a look of consternation crossed her face. “I don’t think so.” He could tell by the droop of her shoulders that she was tired. The daughters of dukes apparently weren't accustomed to spending long hours standing. Taking pity on her, he located his discarded tunic and laid it atop a hay bale, figuring she might be more willing to sit on it, even though it was just as filthy as the straw it covered.
Without a word, she sat. Out of her line of sight, Vagrum nodded approvingly.
Not much was said as the three watched the advancing clouds. When they passed in front of the sun, a false dusk descended. Since it was afternoon, none of the street lanterns were lit, making it seem darker than it actually was. Of course, the blackness wasn’t absolute, broken as it was at frequent intervals by flashes of lightning. Most of the bright white branches flickered from cloud to cloud, brightening the canopy above, but there were occasional downward bolts punctuated by loud blasts of thunder.
“The wind is hot, but it still feels good.” Alicia undid the restraints on her hair and let it swing free so the breeze could catch it.
Sorial was forced to agree. There was nothing refreshing in the arid wind, but any stirring of the air was welcome after the stagnant oppressiveness of recent days.
With a crack of thunder so loud that it shook the stable’s rafters and caused all three of them to start, the hail began. At first, the chunks of ice were like pebbles, but they soon doubled and tripled in size. The noise on the roof was deafening and, in the streets, citizens were yelping in pain and fear as they dashed for cover. The lightning flashes came so frequently that the pulsating illumination was continual and the thunder was loud enough to compete with the cacophony of hailstones. Conversation was impossible.
Vagrum endured the storm with an expression of seeming stoic
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