ROAD TO CORDIA (6 page)

     “Gotta dig a hole, gotta carry her on outa here. Do it for six, nah, sevenQs.”

     “Is there a priest?”

     “No, give me the money.”

     After all, lots of people didn’t get cremated first. For that matter, lots of people never made it into the earth. Some just floated away. Feeling a heaviness of spirit and blankness where surely there should have been some grief, Ja'Nil counted out the seven Qs.

     The money pouch was almost empty. Would there be enough to get her home?

     “How much ya got left in there?” asked the innkeeper.

     Ja'Nil looked at him with loathing. “That’s none of your business,” she said. Then her mouth dropped open in astonishment. Did she really say that?

     The innkeeper just smiled and turned away. “T’eem,” he yelled. He had to call twice.

     T’eem appeared at the stable entrance, scratching his groin. When he saw Ja'Nil, he jerked his hand away from his body as if it had suddenly caught fire. His face went dark green and he carefully kept his eyes off her.

     “The old lady croaked,” said the innkeeper.

     “Ah, Najada, I’m sorry Ja'Nil,” said T’eem.

     “Thank you, T’eem.”

     “Yeah, yeah,” said the innkeeper. “Carry her on up to the hill, dig a hole and plant her.”

     T’eem nodded. He entered the stall, picked up the blanket-shrouded body of her aunt and carried it out.

     “So that’s that,” said the innkeeper. “I ain’t letin’ ya stay here for nothing.”

     Ja'Nil looked at him in amazement. “I’m not staying here. I’m going home.”

     “Ya are, huh? Where’s home?”

    
Good question.

* * *

     The burial was brisk and efficient. It took place on a windswept hill, bare of vegetation, overlooking The No Name Inn. The area was not fenced, but several body sized earth mounds insured Aunt M’eer would not be traveling the Circle alone. Ja’Nil found herself wondering how her misanthropic aunt would feel about sharing her burial site with strangers. A lone seagull screeched overhead as if greeting the newly arrived soul. Ja’Nil shivered in the wind and tried to think suitable graveside thoughts.

     T’eem, Ja’Nil, and the innkeeper were the only people present. With great gentleness, T’eem laid the tiny woman in the burial hole he had dug. Ja'Nil, who had never liked her aunt, was almost sick with fear now that she was dead. For the first time in her life, Ja’Nil was on her own.

     Also, she was hungry. Did she have enough money for food? Was it stealing if she used her aunt’s money? But most of all, how far away and in what direction was home?

     A little voice inside her head was whispering to her, trying to get her attention.
“You promised Aunt M’eer you would go to Cordia,”
said the little voice. Ja'Nil concentrated on how hungry she was.
“You did,”
insisted the little voice.
“You made that promise to a dying woman.”

     Well, she’s dead now, thought Ja'Nil irritably. She won’t care.

    
“A promise is a promise.”

     “I’ll never be able to get a healer,” Ja’Nil argued with the little voice. The elders will send someone else.

    
“A promise is a promise.”

     “I’m just being sensible,” Ja’Nil argued back

     The innkeeper paid no attention to the burial, instead he watched Ja'Nil. He watched every move she made. Watched when she sniffed and swiped her nose with her sleeve because she didn’t have a handkerchief.  He watched as she carefully didn’t look at him directly, but kept peeking out of the corner of her eye to see what he was up to. He watched until Ja'Nil wanted to scream at him to stop watching her.

     “Okay, she’s buried now,” said the innkeeper. “T’eem get back to work. I needs them barrels carried out to the shed. He turned to Ja'Nil. “Give ya a job,” he offered, standing very close to her. Ja'Nil took a step back. He crowded after her.

     “A job,” she stammered. “Ah, no thank you. I have to go back home. Back to my village.”

     “I’ll even marry ya,” he said. “Need another wife.”

     “How many do you have?”

     “Four, no, that’s right, Ee’llie died. You’d be my fourth, then. Treat you right. Fatten’ you up.” He reached out for her. She backed away, tripped over her big feet, and fell on the newly made mound covering her aunt’s grave. She was lying on her aunt’s grave! He reached out for her again and this time she grabbed his hand and let him haul her to her feet. But he did not let go of her. Instead, he started dragging her back to the inn. In desperation, she kicked at him to get away. He grabbed her with his other hand and shook her like a rag doll. Her head snapped back, and when it came forward, he slapped her face.

     “Don’t make me beat ya then. Ee’llie was always making me beat her. Come on.”

     Dazed, she let him drag her a few feet and almost bumped into him when he stopped suddenly.

     T’eem stood there, blocking their way but making no other move to help Ja'Nil.

     “What are ya looking at? I tolds ya to move them barrels.” T’eem just continued to stand there. “Okay,” sighed the innkeeper as if he was making a big concession. “I aims to marry up with her, but ‘fore I do I’ll let ya get a lick a her. After dinner been served and ya finished carrying out the slops ya go on up to her room. I’ll give ya an hour, but no more. Now, that’s generous, ain’t it? Well, ain’t it?”

     T’eem nodded.

     “T’eem,” said Ja'Nil. “I don’t want to marry up with him.” The innkeeper turned on her and raised his hand. T’eem reached forward and caught the raised hand, holding it away from Ja'Nil’s face.

     “What the fook you think ya doing?” The innkeeper was outraged.

     “Don’t want her all beat up,” mumbled T’eem.

     “You just get them barrels moved or you ain’t getting no part of her.” The innkeeper turned and shoved Ja'Nil. “Get on into the inn. Ya wanta eat, ya gonna work.”

* * *

                 She was put to work scrubbing out the dirty pots and kettles. “Keep an eye on her,” he ordered the cook. “I’m going to be marrying up with her tonight.”

     The cook just grunted, but made a point of keeping Ja'Nil well away from the door.

     She was not the only girl working in the inn’s kitchen. Jaz, a few years older than Ja’Nil, was kept busy sweeping the stone floor and scrubbing out the soot covered brick ovens. There was something horribly wrong with Jaz’s face. The top of her mouth was split right up to her nose. When she spoke, it was almost impossible to understand her. That was why it took several minutes before what she was saying sunk in.

     “Yas marry ups wit him, I gut ya.”

     “What did you say?”

     “Yas marry wit him, I kill ya,” hissed the girl.

     Ja'Nil stared at her in horror. What was wrong with the world? Suddenly there was danger everywhere she turned. Her hands started trembling. She wanted to burst into tears, lie down on the floor, kick, scream, and have a full-blown tantrum until someone put the world right.

     “Why do you want to kill me?” she asked in a voice that trembled. 

     “He gonna marry up wit me. He say he get me real healer. Fix me up fine.” The girl took a threatening step towards Ja'Nil, raising the handle of her broom threateningly. Dust, dirt, and cobwebs showered down on Ja'Nil.

     “I’m not going to marry him,” Ja'Nil assured her. “I don’t want to marry him.  I don’t want to marry anyone. I just want to go home.”

     “Me don’t care wheres ya go, just go.”

     “Jaz,” yelled the cook. “Get away from her. Do your work.” Jaz flinched as if she had been struck. “Yez, Yez,” she told the cook, but before she turned away she leaned into Ja'Nil, her eyes intensely crazy. Ja'Nil couldn’t bear to be so close to that deformed face. “Don’t yas forget,” the girl hissed at Ja'Nil, “I gonna guts ya.”

     The cook, a bulky woman who smelled of sweat and burned onions, thrust herself between Jaz and Ja'Nil. “Ya finished with them pots?” she asked Ja'Nil. “Here, eat this.” She put half a loaf of coarse bread and a glass of brownish liquid into Ja'Nil’s hands. “Gonna need your strength tonight.” Her smile was sly and knowing.

     The bread was smeared with some sort of grease instead of mare’s butter. Ja'Nil retreated to a stool in the corner where she could keep an eye on everyone. She gulped the bread and washed it down with the brownish colored water. Only, it wasn’t water. Whatever it was, it burned going down, hitting her stomach like a hot stone, making her gasp, cough and breathe through her mouth. “What was that?”

     The cook laughed, “Make things easier for ya tonight.”

     Easier?

     From where she sat, Ja'Nil could hear the roars of laughter and yells of drunken men in the main parlor where T’eem and another man passed out mugs of booze as fast as they could pour them.

     The innkeeper came into the kitchen, rubbing his hands and smiling his reptilian smile. “Busy night.” He stood over her rocking back and forth, smiling indulgently at her. Ja'Nil blinked dazedly up at him. There seemed to be two of him. Then one of him melted into one, no, two hims. Now all she could see of him was his yellow smile.

     “Nows, ya not to worry none. I’ll be marrying ya soons as things quiet down out there,” he assured Ja'Nil.

     “What about Jaz?” Ja'Nil heard herself saying. Her voice sounded as if it were coming from a long way away. She stood up slowly, supporting herself by resting her hand on the crumbly wall. “You promised her a healer. You’re supposed to marry her. She said so.”

     The innkeeper turned a scowling face on the cringing Jaz. “Youse just waits ya turn, girl.” He reached out and grabbed the deformed girl by the hair. “Ya ain’t gonna give me no trouble, is ya?”

     “No, K’epper, no trouble,” Jaz whined. She did not attempt to break free of his hold, just stood passively waiting for whatever he dealt out.

      Ja'Nil watched with a strange disconnect. Would he hit the girl? Instead, he shoved her away.

     Unfortunately, he then turned back to Ja'Nil. “Ya comes wit me.” He grabbed her by the wrist and pulled her along behind him like a fish on a trotline. He pulled her up a narrow, dimly lit staircase. She stumbled after him, her mind a jumble of half formed images and plans; she would hit him over the head and escape. What would she hit him with? She would knee him in his… ah… balls and escape. What if she missed? He’d be mad as all the hells that ever were, wouldn’t he? Before she could settle on a plan, they arrived at a child size door. It screeched loudly as the innkeeper used both hands to open it.     

     As soon as he let go of her, Ja'Nil turned to run, but the sudden movement caused her head to spin. The innkeeper grabbed her around her waist, spun her around and shoved her through the tiny door, scraping her head on the lintel as he pushed her through. Then he slammed it shut. Ja'Nil landed on her knees, her head spinning, her stomach threatening to give up the bread she had recently eaten. Behind her, she could hear a bolt being thrown across the door.

     After a moment her stomach settled. Her head no longer felt as if it were spinning like a Daisy Top, now it seemed to be floating off somewhere on its own, light as a feather, while the rest of her body moved with the slow motions of an underwater swimmer. What was in that drink the cook had given her?

     She had landed on her knees. Her head was down, her eyes closed. Finally, she raised her head and looked around. She was in some sort of storage place, an attic, filled with strange shapes, odd pieces of wood, dust and spider webs and creepy-crawly sounds. At least there was enough light to see things. There were two large dormer windows, both open at the top for ventilation. A magical purple light came through the windows, making everything it touched look otherworldly, and in the case of the attic, both shabby and dangerous. The purple light! She had forgotten it was the six-month rise of  Purple Moon. No wonder the inn was so busy.

     Many people believed the moon had healing powers. There were always celebrations and ceremonies on this night. It was said that perfectly healthy people would dance naked in its light in the hopes of living forever. Ja'Nil had never actually seen anyone do that, but she had heard about it. How would the Purple Moon affect the innkeeper?

     She had to get out of here.

     The ceiling was too low for her to stand so she scrambled on her hands and knees to one of the windows. It overlooked a courtyard filled with men who were either drinking, fighting, cheering on the fighters or just baying at the moon; definitely not a means of egress.  

     The other window overlooked the stables and the hill where her aunt was buried. There was no one in sight.

     There were two problems; she was three floors up and the window, although slightly open at the top, absolutely refused to open from the bottom.

     Well, she thought, either I wait here for him to come and “marry” me or I can… She picked up a slab of wood that was lying on the floor, swung with all her might and smashed out the bottom windowpane. Shattered glass flew everywhere. She continued smashing until the frame was as free of glass as she could make it. All that smashing felt so good she considered attacking the top window, too. But as much as she had enjoyed it, smashing windows was not the point.

     She poked her head out. Still no one around. Still three floors up. Ja'Nil sat down and took her shoes off. She tossed them out the window, then rear-end first, she climbed as carefully as she could through the broken window. The walls of the inn were in terrible shape. She felt carefully with her toes for notches and irregularities. She started down.

     Aside from two small cuts from the broken glass in the window, she did pretty well until she was about six feet above ground. The brick under her feet crumbled, her fingers slipped and slithered across the rough wall, and down she fell. She landed on her rear, rolled unto her stomach then staggered to her feet. Ouch! Her hip. She took a few careful steps; it hurt, but she could definitely walk.