she indignantly jerked aside. “Do you take me for a raw innocent? I know your off-world tricks! The ruse has failed; you may go first.”
“As you wish,” sighed Maloof. The two climbed the stairs, with Buntje several steps behind. At the landing she slipped past, giving Myron a wide berth. She opened the door with the numeral ‘6’.
After looking warily at Maloof and Myron, she glanced into the room, then stepped back out.
“You may enter; the room is in order.”
“Just a moment,” said Maloof. “You were supposed to check the room carefully. Are the beds fresh?”
“What about towels and soap?” Myron asked. “You should at least look into the bathroom.”
“Everything is as it should be. If you find any rodents, chase them into the hall.”
Buntje retreated and clattered down the stairs. Maloof and Myron inspected the room and found no cause for complaint. The furniture was massive, durable and obviously of great age. A door led into a rather quaint bathroom.
For a moment the two stood by the window, looking out over the village. A few wavering street-lights came on, casting islands of wan illumination. In the public square a number of young men were preparing for a social event of a sort not immediately clear. The two turned from the window and went down to the common room. They seated themselves at a vacant table and waited for attention.
Dinka loped past, back, and forth, and eventually halted. When Maloof requested a menu she seemed puzzled; when he explained, she said with the ghost of a prim smile: “Sir, we have no such documents on hand.”
“Then what is available for our supper?”
“That depends upon the decision of Wilkin.”
“Indeed.” Looking toward the kitchen, Maloof and Myron saw the squat red-faced cook glaring at them through the doorway, brandishing a wooden spoon.
Dinka said: “She is in a bit of a tantrum. Buntje has reported that the young one tried to lure her into the bathroom, obviously planning a lewd antic which she took heroic measures to avoid.”
“Absurd!” declared Maloof. “Ask Wilkin to step out here and we will explain the situation in detail. We cannot let such slander go unchallenged.”
Dinka shook her head. “I will talk to Wilkin and put matters right. Buntje is subject to adolescent fits; this is known, and perhaps Wilkin will see reason. If not, I can bring you some dried fish and some dried bread with suet.”
Dinka went off to the kitchen, closing the door behind her. After a time she emerged, carrying a tureen of pungent soup which she placed before Maloof and Myron, then glanced toward the kitchen and said: “Wilkin has herself in control now. It seems that tonight there is a romp. Buntje has never before dared to attend for fear that she might fall sprawling, with legs in the air. In any case, your supper is secure.”
Following the soup, Dinka brought them a platter of fish stewed with ramp and small tubers, which might have been acorns, and finally dumplings in fruit sauce.
The supper was over. The two sat over mugs of herbal tea. The night was still young, and it was too early to retire to their room. For a time they watched the coming and going of patrons at the bar, but there was no entertainment here. All conducted themselves with somber restraint and spoke in mutters to each other. Jodel darted back and forth, his great paunch pressed against the counter, his moon-face fixed in the semblance of smiling cordiality. No one took notice of the off-worlders.
3
After a time, Maloof and Myron rose from the table, went to the door, pushed through and passed out into the night. For a moment they stood in front of the inn, the sign swinging gently over their heads to vagrant puffs of wind. Dusk had not yet left the sky; up and down the high street the roofs of cottages were black outlines against the gray murk.
The two set off up the high street, keeping to the shadows. Where the street entered the square they halted to watch what
“As you wish,” sighed Maloof. The two climbed the stairs, with Buntje several steps behind. At the landing she slipped past, giving Myron a wide berth. She opened the door with the numeral ‘6’.
After looking warily at Maloof and Myron, she glanced into the room, then stepped back out.
“You may enter; the room is in order.”
“Just a moment,” said Maloof. “You were supposed to check the room carefully. Are the beds fresh?”
“What about towels and soap?” Myron asked. “You should at least look into the bathroom.”
“Everything is as it should be. If you find any rodents, chase them into the hall.”
Buntje retreated and clattered down the stairs. Maloof and Myron inspected the room and found no cause for complaint. The furniture was massive, durable and obviously of great age. A door led into a rather quaint bathroom.
For a moment the two stood by the window, looking out over the village. A few wavering street-lights came on, casting islands of wan illumination. In the public square a number of young men were preparing for a social event of a sort not immediately clear. The two turned from the window and went down to the common room. They seated themselves at a vacant table and waited for attention.
Dinka loped past, back, and forth, and eventually halted. When Maloof requested a menu she seemed puzzled; when he explained, she said with the ghost of a prim smile: “Sir, we have no such documents on hand.”
“Then what is available for our supper?”
“That depends upon the decision of Wilkin.”
“Indeed.” Looking toward the kitchen, Maloof and Myron saw the squat red-faced cook glaring at them through the doorway, brandishing a wooden spoon.
Dinka said: “She is in a bit of a tantrum. Buntje has reported that the young one tried to lure her into the bathroom, obviously planning a lewd antic which she took heroic measures to avoid.”
“Absurd!” declared Maloof. “Ask Wilkin to step out here and we will explain the situation in detail. We cannot let such slander go unchallenged.”
Dinka shook her head. “I will talk to Wilkin and put matters right. Buntje is subject to adolescent fits; this is known, and perhaps Wilkin will see reason. If not, I can bring you some dried fish and some dried bread with suet.”
Dinka went off to the kitchen, closing the door behind her. After a time she emerged, carrying a tureen of pungent soup which she placed before Maloof and Myron, then glanced toward the kitchen and said: “Wilkin has herself in control now. It seems that tonight there is a romp. Buntje has never before dared to attend for fear that she might fall sprawling, with legs in the air. In any case, your supper is secure.”
Following the soup, Dinka brought them a platter of fish stewed with ramp and small tubers, which might have been acorns, and finally dumplings in fruit sauce.
The supper was over. The two sat over mugs of herbal tea. The night was still young, and it was too early to retire to their room. For a time they watched the coming and going of patrons at the bar, but there was no entertainment here. All conducted themselves with somber restraint and spoke in mutters to each other. Jodel darted back and forth, his great paunch pressed against the counter, his moon-face fixed in the semblance of smiling cordiality. No one took notice of the off-worlders.
3
After a time, Maloof and Myron rose from the table, went to the door, pushed through and passed out into the night. For a moment they stood in front of the inn, the sign swinging gently over their heads to vagrant puffs of wind. Dusk had not yet left the sky; up and down the high street the roofs of cottages were black outlines against the gray murk.
The two set off up the high street, keeping to the shadows. Where the street entered the square they halted to watch what