The Silken Key

Chapter 13

It turned out that allowing Tariq to do most of the talking was easier for the group than expected. That was mostly because all the talking was done in Zalamic: the regional language of which Detlef did not understand a single word.

The Wazeer was nothing like Detlef had imagined. Not the sort of great bearded wise man he was used to seeing in the west. The Wazeer, in fact, was not even a man. 'He' was a 'she', and she was an elf. The largest elf Detlef had ever seen. Her head was completely hairless and a dark blue robe hung from her disproportionately broad shoulders, like Krespani slaves who been disfigured by years of forced rowing. On her chest, hanging from a cord around her neck, was a copper plate with a symbol which looked like an open upside-down hand with a disc in the middle.

As she spoke with Tariq, she sometimes smiled warmly and at other times frowned gravely, yet at no point did she give any clue as to what they were talking about.

The table itself was long and low to the ground with the Wazeer at the head and a roaring fire pit at the other end. It was covered with a brilliant white cloth that shimmered like pearl in the light of the fire.

Twenty-five important looking people were seated around it on a long tubular cushion. Brass and copper platters were laid with fancifully arranged fruits. Colourfully painted bowls were steaming with fragrant casseroles and sauces. The mixture of smells reminded Detlef of the spice merchants at the dock marketplace. At the back of the room, a group of musicians played a lively tune on eastern wind instruments.

To Detlef's right, Maddy was ravenously eating up everything in sight.

"Are you going to eat that?" Maddy said, pointing his spoon at the bowl Detlef was poking about in which contained a browny-white gloop with reddish-brown lumps.

"I'm going to try," Detlef muttered back, forcing himself to smile lest he be in danger of offending their host.

Maddy leaned over to see how little Detlef had actually eaten. "What's the matter, don't you like lamb?"

"I like lamb very much. I would just never have thought of serving it in yoghurt."

Maddy laughed and scooped a chunk of meat out of Detlef's bowl. "Do yourself a favour then - never ask for beef in Grimsor. You wouldn't believe what they serve it in there."

Just across the table from them, Tabitha and Rudiger were seated side by side trying hard to avoid eye contact while they ate. Neither was well suited to the seating arrangement. Both had to kneel on the cushion for their arms to be above the level of the table.

An hour or so into the meal, one of the attendants stood at the head of the table and made an announcement in Zalamic. Detlef felt a pang of nerves and got ready to copy what everyone else did. Fortunately, Tariq leaned over and explained what was being said.

"He is calling for the food to be cleared so that the cleansing of the tablecloth can commence for the guests"

Maddy looked like he was holding back laughter. "They do their dinner laundry as entertainment? Ha! What do they do for public worship? Wash their underpants?"

Servants moved around the table taking all the dishes and cups away until only the cloth remained, stained with sauce and wine. Detlef watched as the servants gathered it up, crumpling it into messy bundles rather than folding it neatly. It was an odd display, but Detlef watched attentively, pretending it was as beautiful and fascinating as a ballet performance.

Then, to Detlef's surprise, the servants threw the bundled tablecloth onto the fire where the flames quickly enveloped it. He glanced sideways at Tariq, who was watching calmly.