Harmindon's Finest

Chapter 20 - A New Life

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The old innkeeper raised his eyebrow at me over the counter, unimpressed.

I tried again.

"Please, some food? I have..."

I shook my bag of coins rather pathetically and was about to give up and find somewhere else to buy breakfast when the man clearly took pity on me. Without bothering to speak - he knew I wouldn't understand - he gestured with his thumb at one of the free tables, telling me to wait, while he heaved a sigh and went into the back kitchen. 

The room was completely empty, every table deserted. From the almost overpowering smell of strong drink and general untidiness, I guessed this had not been the case late last night. I stood by the bar for a moment, hesitating foolishly, and eventually chose a relatively clean table and chair by the windows.

It was very early in the morning. The sun had barely cleared the horizon, and because the white cobblestone streets and this dingy little inn were so deserted I'd come to the conclusion that Westerlings simply did not rise as early as the people I knew. It seemed only logical to me to rise early to avoid the worst of the harsh sunlight - but then again, I supposed, what did these people know of harsh sunlight? They were so lucky they could wander about at midday with their heads uncovered and not even suffer the slightest burns on their impossibly fair skin. Even this innkeeper that was cooking me breakfast with obvious reluctance had been very surprised to see anyone, let alone a young Haradrim girl, up and about at dawn.

These were the kind of thoughts that came to me as I watched two soldiers in shining plate mail stride up the street of the Third Circle. They weren't the two that I'd seen on my way into the inn - evidently the night watch had been replaced. It was almost comforting to think that those men in their heavy armour had been up earlier than I to prepare for their duties - then I felt bad for my unusually demeaning thought.

"Here you are, miss."

I nearly jumped out of my skin as the innkeeper appeared behind me. I stammered my thanks as he placed a bowl of something on the table - then picked it up again, wiped the table with his worn cloth as a kind of afterthought, and put it down again. A woman appeared from the same kitchen door, yawning and rubbing her eyes with the corners of her apron. She raised her eyebrows at me, sighed the exact same way as her husband had, and began to tidy the room, turning chairs the right way up, polishing tabletops and relighting the fire. I decided to ignore her, and inspected my meal instead.

It was a kind of greyish mush, that upon further inspection and some rather cautious tasting I discovered to be a kind of thick gruel made of ground oats. It wasn't quite as disgusting as I'd feared - and it was warm, which I hadn't expected - but it was so utterly bland I nearly spat it right out again, if it weren't for the watchful eye of the innkeeper's wife that I sensed on me at all times.

I forced down my breakfast as quickly as I could, making a mental note to bring some nuts or berries - or even something hot and spicy, like ground paprika - the next time so I could forget the taste of blandness, paid for it, and left.

I stretched my arms in the air for a moment or two as I left the inn, the air seeming ten times fresher and clearer after the stale indoor air. It had evidently rained last night, because the dark slate roofs of houses - towering above my head, some fully three or even four storeys high - glistened with water still, and the soil around the trees that lined the avenue was dark and wet. Now though the sky was pale blue, brightening every minute from the rising sun, and the moisture in the air made it even more refreshing. Everywhere I looked, there was something new. Trees lining the road - no wonder the air was so fresh! - whose delicate little leaves were in the midst of changing from healthy green to red and brown, fluttering softly to the stone streets. The view of Osgiliath in the far distance, shining white from the newly risen sun, the surrounding mountains - everything was so strangely unique I felt as though I had strayed into one of my childhood dreams. It all seemed so unreal.