Birgitta the Nun

Part 21 - The Inn

After some time - maybe hours, maybe days, the abbess couldn't tell - they left the deserted road and entered a village. It was a village almost like any other village, but not quite. The houses looked like normal houses, but with an awkward slant to their roofs. The dogs running along the streets seemed plain and of no important color, but were barking in the most peculiar way. The villagers behaved like normal villagers, but they were dressed in a fashion not at all familiar. The abbess took it all in without commenting.

"Let's make a stop at this inn," the merchant said, "and have ourselves a good dinner." She indicated a tilting building. It stood at the end of a row of some more tilting buildings—with a tilting sign hanging over its tilting entrance. "I've got some business here as well—but we needn't pay for a bed. I've got a decent tent that would satisfy a diva."

The abbess didn't object and the nag soon brought them to the tilting gates of the inn. Some flickering candle-light could be seen through its daubed windows, revealing them not being the first guests to arrive this evening. A young girl came out to meet them and the merchant asked for water and oats for her horse. The girl gave a slight bow and brought the old nag to the tilting stables of the inn. She was a clever girl, indeed, and she knew how to treat a brave horse. Along with the refreshments she treated the horse to some stroking and brushing - and even a song. The horse was in good hands. The merchant gave a contented grunt and led the abbess inside the inn.

The tavern was as one would expect a tavern to be - full of disorderly activity. Tables of different sizes occupied all of the ground floor. It was an excellent place for people to gather, for a chat or a deal. But still - if you weren't among the talkative ones - it allowed plenty of dark corners, obscuring the faces of any shy stranger. A grand spiral staircase soared in the middle of the hall. It ascended through the ceiling to the first and second floor of the inn, and the rooms for rent. Somewhat bossy-looking, an innkeeper towered behind the counter. She raised her hands in a regular manner, back and forth, to deliver her orders.

The merchant stopped inside the door. She took a deep breath, smelled the air, and seemed pleased. In her opinion, this was a palace. Here was everything a merchant could wish for: curious chatter to fill your ears, fabulous smoke rising through the air, wine in enormous casks, suspicious characters hiding in every corner, and a hot kitchen smelling of broth. To the merchant this was a mirage.

The abbess didn't quite get the same feeling, being used to buildings of a rather different grandeur. Still, she accepted the watering hole and let the merchant take the lead.

The innkeeper watched the new arrivals from far away, and let them choose a table before making her approach. She was tall and thin, but had the knuckles of a butcher. The wooden floor creaked under her long feet as she made her way around and between tables. She nodded, making some remarks as she passed her guests, and soon reached the table of the merchant and the abbess. She seemed pleased to see them, but at the same time, as it were, she wouldn't mind telling them off were they in the wrong place.

"Good evening, good folks," the innkeeper greeted the newcomers. "Will there be dinner?"

"Good evening, Madame Innkeeper," the merchant replied. "Dinner and business, please."

The innkeeper produced a notepad from under her apron, and scribbled all over some random page. "I see," she said, still with her eyes fixed on the notepad, "are you perhaps the merchant?"

"Indeed—you've been expecting me, I hope?"

The innkeeper nodded. The merchant nodded as well. And so a mute conversation took place between the two entrepreneurs. It was a lot of nodding. On top of that, small gestures seemed to mark an understanding, and large gestures some kind of disagreement. The abbess' eyes ran to and fro - from the merchant to the innkeeper - not in the least keeping track of the subject. Then their gestures dropped and they did some more nodding.

"And you've brought company?" the innkeeper asked, and turned to the abbess.

"A friend along the way, nothing more," the merchant replied, also turning to the abbess.

Then they smiled, both of them, in some strange kind of way. The abbess observed their stretched lips with indifference. It wasn't a nice smile, nor was it a wicked one, but more in line with a secret one. It was a smile that told the abbess she was a bit left out, that she wasn't a part of the confidence. She shrugged.

"Well—alright," the innkeeper offered. "She doesn't look like a troublemaker." She lifted her foot and brought it down hard upon a fleeing cockroach. And the poor freeloader ended its journey then and there. Spots, scattered all over the tavern floor, revealed more of the same occurrence.

"Business first?" the merchant suggested.

The abbess' stomach growled.

"Of course," the innkeeper replied, ignoring the abdominal rumble.