by Allan Joyal
Dusty snorted. "Heck no, a prostitute would be trying to push her breasts up with a bodice like the Madam is wearing, but would either have nothing covering her breasts or something that was nearly transparent. And no hooker wears shorts. They want a short skirt so they can flip it up and show everything to a prospective client."
The Madam glared past me, staring at Dusty. "And yet, you sit there wearing an outfit that leaves your thighs and calves bare. The top covers everything, but it has such a deep cut between your breasts that a careless movement will reveal them."
"And?" Dusty replied.
The woman looked puzzled. I decided to head off any further argument. "What the lady is trying to explain is that, where we come from, a woman who shows her legs isn't saying she's for sale. In our homeland a few generations ago the women fought with the men. The battle was about the attitudes men had towards women, and how many refused to treat them as equals. Neither side truly won, but one change that came about was a woman would no longer be condemned for wearing clothing like you see. It became understood that a man could no longer claim that a woman was of low quality simply because she wore certain clothing. The truth is that the six youngest women you see here are dressed as they are because they planned on going swimming and were wearing outfits designed for that activity."
"Swimming?" Madam Wessera asked. I noticed that she was now facing me directly.
"Immersing their bodies in water that was deeper than they are tall. It is a form of relaxation. Normal clothing would become waterlogged and might drag someone to the bottom, so a woman expecting to swim would wear special clothing," I replied.
Madam Wessera seemed to be pondering something. Finally she shrugged. "I guess that makes sense. How much do you have to spend, and how much time do I have?"
I held up the red coin again. "I told Versil that I would give this to him, but it was to pay for all the services we receive today. I hope it will cover obtaining garb for the ladies as well. The only problem is that we don't know how long we will stay. We need more information. I can promise we will be here tomorrow morning."
The woman laughed. "You don't ask for much. Well, if we are talking one outfit per lady, and you have nine ladies here, I can probably stitch together skirts for all. They would be a bit crude though. I have the fabric, but I won't have time to put on any embroidery or double stitch the seams. I only have four blouses ready, though. Those would take far longer than a day."
"Will the coin pay for all that?" I asked.
"Son, that coin in your hand would pay for Galmin's best service for a month. Versil has to be salivating just from seeing that. Heck, you could purchase any cottage in the village with that and probably get the livestock as well. Don't you know what you have?"
It was my turn to laugh. "Nope. I could see it was valuable because of Versil's reaction when he saw it, but that was it. Thank you for your honesty."
"You've been honest with me," Madam Wessera said, waving her hand as if my comment did not matter. "Now, I need to run to my cottage and get some items. I'll return shortly."
She got to her feet. Without a backward glance, she shuffled over to the doorway and vanished out of the inn. Outside, she cursed loud enough to be heard at the table. I was trying to figure out why when Kariy staggered into the room.
The young woman had her arms wrapped around a package that appeared to be almost as large as she was. Albert cursed and jumped up. He ran over to the woman and reached out to the package. Kariy refused to surrender it and began walking to the table. Albert was trying to take it away, but Kariy shook her head silently until she reached the table and was able to set it down.
The package gave a clunk as it landed on the table. Continuing to say nothing, Kariy reached up and untied a string I had not noticed. The packaging fell to the floor revealing wooden tankards and spoons.
I started distributing the tankards. Kariy watched silently for only a moment before dashing off to the kitchen.
"She wouldn't let me help her," Albert moaned.
"If she's a slave, she might not be able to accept help," Steve whispered. "Some masters don't want slaves feeling that they should receive help."
Albert looked disgusted. He crossed back over to his seat on the bench and slumped down. Lisa Little, sitting beside him, gave him a pat on the shoulder and whispered into his ear.
The light in the inn flickered for a moment. I turned to see a figure standing in the doorway. The light from behind left his face in shadow. I was carefully reaching for the spear when the figure stepped fully into the inn. As he left the doorway, his face became visible in the dim light.
The figure was a young man. It was hard to judge, but I guessed him to be around twenty. His clothing was an unremarkable brown. The pants had seen hard use and there were tears in the right thigh and left calf. The shirt was stained from sweat and mud. Over the shirt he wore a vest of some kind. It appeared to be leather and was held closed through leather lacing running up the front. The man himself was almost as brown as his clothes, with hair the color of mud. He walked up to the table and pointed to the bench where Madam Wessera had been sitting.
"Aunt Wes said you might like talking to someone. It seems you have questions," he said.
I nodded and waved him to the bench. "More than you can probably comprehend. The first one has to be: where are we?"
The man looked thoughtful. "Well..." he temporized. "No one has really named this village. It was founded a couple generations ago when Tralvien found an iron deposit. He started mining and brought his family here to assist. The dwarves weren't too happy because the mountains belong to them. They decided to allow Tralvien to mine it though. The deposit isn't all that rich and was on the surface. They did insist on Tralvien paying a portion of what he mined to them. The rest of the village grew up to support the mine."
"The mine is still open?" I asked.
"Yes. The deposit isn't very rich, and the dwarves say the iron mined has lots of impurities, but it is a large deposit. The village really only has a few miners. Right now there are six men in the mines."
"Ok, that tells me about the village, but I was really asking what the name of the world is."
There was a shocked look in the face of the man. "Oh, well, we don't think about that much, but I understand that the kings and viziers call the world ‘Jord.'"
I turned to look at the group. "Well, now you have it, we are lost on Jord. I don't think we're going to be finding any ruby slippers either."
Lydia shrugged. "Here, back on Earth, I really don't care. I want a place I can turn into a home. One that is safe. Although I'd prefer a place that is a little more liberal than this village. From what we've seen, they are rather stuffy and conservative."
Heather groaned. "I wouldn't call it conservative. My parents are farmers and considered conservative back on Earth. The people here make them seem like wild eyed free love supporting hippies."
The man looked confused. I held my hand out too him. "Sorry, the ladies are thinking about what we left behind. I'm Ron."
The man reached out with his right hand. I noticed that his gaze was resting on Lydia. "Hencktor, although most in town call me Henck. Um... you allow your ladies to speak their minds?"
Heather giggled. "Sometimes we have more of a mind than men." She held out her hand. "I'm Heather and the lady you can't take your eyes off of is Lydia."
Hencktor ignored the hand, continuing to stare at Lydia. "Lydia," he sighed. "A beautiful name for a woman of grace and beauty." He seemed lost in a reverie. I wanted to say something to break him out of it when Kariy emerged from the kitchen.
The young woman was carrying six pitchers, three in each hand. She reminded me a bit of a German barmaid, but the pitchers were simple pottery. She dashed up to the table and quickly slid the pitchers into the table before dashing back to the kitchen. Her eyes had been on the floor the whole time.
The action appeared to break Henck out of his daydreams. "I hate that," he hissed.<
br />
"What?" I asked.
"Kariy!" he snapped pointing to the kitchen. "Her parents were killed by bandits when she was still a child. Galmin and Versil bent the laws to get her declared a slave and gave her to Galmin."
"She's a slave?" I asked.
Henck snorted. "Not officially. Supposedly she's just indentured until she can pay the cost of raising her, but Galmin is slick with a copper, and her debt keeps growing. She'll never escape this town and everyone allows it because Versil is the last descendant of Tralvien."
I found that I was shaking my head. Once again I turned back to the table. "Well, I think we can agree that we aren't staying in this town. We wouldn't fit in well."
Eddie moaned from his spot at the end of the table. "More walking."
I could see some of the others frown, but Elizabeth nodded. "You're right. This place is a bit too primitive for me."
While we talked, Steve had reached out for one of the pitchers. He lifted it and poured some of its contents into one of the tankards. The liquid was pink in the flickering light. Once he set the pitcher down, everyone looked at him.
"What? I'm thirsty," he said. He had picked up the tankard and was bringing it to his lips.
"Well, we are wondering how it tastes and if it's poisonous," Lydia said quietly.
Steve shrugged and brought the tankard to his lips. He took what appeared to be a tentative sip. "Humm... Fruity... Might be a little alcohol in this. I'd almost call it a weak wine."
He had barely finished his comments before Eddie perked up and grabbed a pitcher. He enthusiastically poured the contents into a tankard. In one quick motion, he slammed the pitcher down and brought the tankard to his lips, taking a deep gulp.
Eddie immediately started sputtering and choking. His reaction to the drink panicked the coeds. Jennifer and Martha jumped to their feet. They seemed ready to dash for the door, but Eddie took a deep breath and coughed out. "No, it's not poisoned."
"What is it then?" Lydia asked playfully. "I haven't seen you coughing like that since you propositioned that one girl in Vegas and found out she was part of the Follies."
"I got beer!" Eddie moaned. "And not a good, deep, heavy lager. The horse this came from needs its kidneys checked. It's foul."
"Skunky?" Heather asked.
"Try light, no alcohol and flat," Eddie growled as he took another sip. "This definitely won't be able to make me forget the hike we've taken today."
"The joy of modern brewing," I mused. I looked over at Henck to see him smiling. "What?"
Henck chuckled louder. "Oh, Galmin keeps claiming that he makes the best of brews. Those that have had some of the dwarven ales like to differ with him. It's nice to see another who doesn't appreciate Galmin's brew."
I nodded. "Well, I guess I do have more to ask. First, how far are we from some larger cities? We need to find either a way home or a place to call home, and I don't think either can be found in this village."
Henck shrugged. "Well, you could try for the dwarven mines at Menchino, but that's a difficult journey and bandits are extremely common. I don't think you could reach it. Now if you head out of the mountains, there are several kingdoms in the river valley. I never learned all the names, but I'm sure you could find what you need in one of them."
The man sighed. He was clearly about to say more when someone coughed. We both turned to see Madam Wessera standing there. "Now, don't be talking their ears off yet," she admonished the man. "There's work to be done. You are supposed to go help Versil's wife with her chicken coop and then milk Kedensiw's cow. Remember, we get half the milk."
Hencktor turned and slowly stood up. Once on his feet, he offered a lazy shrug. "I'll try to be back later. I expect that most of the village will want to see you tonight. You are going to be talked about for ages."
He then turned and walked slowly out of the inn, pausing at the doorway to wave. Once he was gone, Madam Wessera deposited an armful of fabric onto the table next to Natalie. She looked over the group and counted again. "I see I was off, you have ten ladies. Three have those short skirts and white tops. The tops are a bit tight, but as long as the ladies wear cloaks no man should bother them. The rest of your ladies..." she sighed. "I can give them long skirts, but they need new tops as well."
She started to rummage through the bundle of fabric. I was watching her intently and was a bit startled when Heather tapped me on the shoulder. I looked at her to see her pointing to my right. I turned to find Kariy standing there holding a large wooden tray. The tray was covered in large bread rolls. The rolls looked to have been hollowed out like some kind of pumpkin and the inside sat next to each one. The crust had been placed back on the rolls and puffs of steam rose from the inside.
It took me a moment and then I smiled. "Oh! This must be the stew Galmin promised. Please start from the far side of the table and put one in front of each person," I told Kariy. She had her head down, but nodded and walked around the table. Her motion was brisk and efficient as she gave each member of the group a roll.
Madam Wessera was still occupied with her fabric when Kariy put the last roll in front of Jennifer and then dashed off to the kitchen. Jennifer pulled the top off and looked down. "It's a meat stew," she said. "Looks nice and thick. Kariy even dropped off the rest of the bread. I guess we can use it to soak up any gravy at the end."
Jennifer picked up one of the wooden spoons that were sitting near her and took a bite. There was an expression of surprise on her face as she chewed the first section. By the time she had taken a second spoonful, her eyes were closed and she was clearly enjoying the taste.
"Galmin's kitchen does have an excellent stew," Madam Wessera whispered into my ear. "If only he hadn't stolen the recipe from Kariy."
I glanced over at the woman. She was gazing back at the doorway to the kitchen so I could not see her face. "Henck said that Kariy is indentured to Galmin, something about how her parents died."
Madam Wessera nodded and turned back to see me. "Yes. Kariy's father came out to work in the mine, and his wife worked at the mine preparing lunches. She was an amazing cook, full of life, and as lovely as a spring day. Most of the men were jealous of Belcon because he had her. The fact that the two were deeply in love and had Kariy kept most of the men from doing more than wishing. It was hard to hate Belcon or Gelina. They were giving people, and more than once, Belcon gave some of the ore he mined to another miner who had had a bad day. He was loved and likely would be mayor now if he had lived."
Albert looked upset. "But her parents died and somehow Galmin ended up possessing her indenture."
Madam Wessera nodded. "Her parents were killed. Supposedly, they decided to leave the mine early to walk back to town. None of the townspeople believed it back then. Belcon was far too careful with his wife's safety, and bandits have occasionally been a problem. Most believe they were lured away from the mine. But you can guess the results. Their bodies were found just off the path from the mine to the village. Both had been beaten. After that, Versil declared that Kariy was too young to live alone and set up the indenture."
"And now, Galmin makes sure that Kariy can never afford to escape. I'm starting to dislike this man."
The reply was a nod. Kariy had reappeared in the doorway. Her tray was again filled with rolls. She walked to the table. Somehow by the time she arrived, Madam Wessera was back at the other table checking her fabric.
Kariy needed no instruction this time. She walked to the far end of the bench I sat on and began distributing rolls. She left two by Esme, using hand signals to indicate that one was special and should be fed to Natalie. As she approached, I surreptitiously looked into the money pouch. It took a while to sort through the dozen or so coins that were left, but I found another one the same size and color as the silver I had given to Galmin earlier. When Kariy placed a roll in front of me, I trapped her hand with mine.
"Miss, you have been most kind to our group. Please make sure that our pitchers stay full. And later tonight I'd be wi
lling to see if we can help you find your freedom," I whispered as I pressed the coin into her palm.
Kariy raised her head and looked directly at me. Her green eyes registered surprise. I kept my smiling face passive, trying to avoid giving any hint that I might be looking for a bed partner. Her expression changed to one of very faint hope. I was going to say more when there was a crash in the kitchen. Instantly her hand was ripped from mine and she dashed off to the kitchen.
I could see Madam Wessera starting at me. "That was pretty slick, but you know Galmin will claim she owes more or that she stole that coin."
"What coin?" I asked.
The woman huffed. "Have it your way. We should start fitting your ladies anyway." She pointed at Heather. "You! You are closest; stand up and step out from between those benches. I need some space."
Heather did as she was told. She reached up to the broach on the cloak she was wearing, but Madam Wessera stepped up and slapped at her hands. "Did I tell you to do that?"
Heather froze. I had noticed that the conversations behind me stopped. It seemed that the whole group was intent on what was happening. Madam Wessera seemed unconcerned with the attention and pulled a piece of string from around her waist. I could see that the string had knots at regular intervals along its length.
The woman reached out and moved Heather's arms and legs, posing her. When she had the coed's arms straight out from her sides and her feet about shoulder width apart, she knelt down and started using the string to measure the young lady.
"I have to say, I've never seen such stitching," the woman said as her hands touched Heather's feet. "Your top is most strange. If it didn't have sleeves I'd say it was a vest for formal occasions. The sleeves are amazing though. I had to look for the seam, and it's folded under so smoothly. The fastening is another thing. I've seen buttons used, but never like that. Who would have thought to reinforce the buttonhole? And how could anyone sew so many stitches?"
The woman had measured Heather's legs and waist. Still chattering, she stood up and walked over to the fabric. "I won't be able to match the skill of your tailor. I'm just a humble old lady stuck in this dreary village. Well, I shouldn't say stuck. My brother Lamrenkd is the mine foreman. Henck is his kid as you can imagine. Great young man, but won't follow in his father's footsteps. The boy panics if he goes into the caves. I guess I shouldn't be surprised. He was with my husband only a candle before the cave-in that killed him. If he hadn't been returning to the surface carrying two buckets of ore, he might have died as well. I take care of the lad now. He's useful around the village and turning into a splendid man. But unless he can overcome his fear, he won't prosper here. Everything is about the mine.