by Logan Jacobs
“You are not dressed like vestals,” the gatekeeper hissed.
“We are fleeing the hordes of Thorvinius,” Florenia explained. “Our temple came under attack. We felt that our chastity was threatened, so at grave risk to life and limb, we fled, and after a long and earnest consultation with the goddess Nillibet, we reluctantly determined that it was an acceptable compromise to don slatternly fashions in order to… ah… attract the sympathy of worldly potentates who might have the ability to assist us in our righteous cause of… ah… defending the innocent, including our other sisters, against the predations of Thorvinius and his ilk.”
“There are no worldly potentates in Sanctimia,” the gatekeeper announced suspiciously.
“Oh, no, we’re not seeking aid here,” Florenia said quickly. She smiled and batted her dark-fringed hazel eyes at him. “My companions and I simply desire the spiritual solace of a quiet night spent in prayer and reflection among like-minded souls of benevolent temperament and respectable habits.”
“Well, that could be arranged, miss,” the gatekeeper decided in a gentler tone after a moment’s hesitation. He disappeared from sight, and the gate started to creak up.
Florenia threw me a wink and licked her upper lip suggestively.
“Hmph,” Willobee grumbled.
I was reminded strongly of the night we’d come to the village where Willobee had won Ilandere from her captor in a card game, and we had rescued her from him. Florenia had not yet joined our party back then, and the fast-talking gnome had been the one to charm our way past the gatekeeper, by pretending to be a wealthy rustic with a carriage full of pitiful adopted children.
In that village, however, the evening had been filled with the sounds of excited or arguing voices, children being shouted at, slops being emptied out of windows, friends drinking together, lovemaking, and farm animals grunting and squealing. This one at the same hour was almost completely quiet, apart from the subdued noises of farm animals.
Even the inn, once we managed to locate it, was distinguishable only by its greater relative size compared to the other buildings nearby and by the painted sign declaring it “The Traveler’s Providence.” It distinctly lacked the usual sights and sounds of carousing.
“What a literal name,” Florenia muttered. “I thought it was supposed to be good luck to call inns by fanciful names. I’m quite disappointed by the lack of rustic charm and eccentricity, considering this will be my first time patronizing a common inn.”
“Well, don’t base your opinions off this one, Duchess, I can already tell it’s a joyless and soul-sucking pit of a place,” Lizzy replied.
“How’s that?” Florenia asked her.
“Barely ten feet away and I can’t even smell no booze,” Lizzy said contemptuously.
“Uh, Lizzy, I’m not sure that the people in this village necessarily partake in--” I began.
But the she-wolf was already throwing the door open.
“If you would be so wonderfully kind as to proffer your assistance with my earthward descent, Princess,” Willobee said anxiously to Ilandere. I knew he was embarrassed by the fact that his three-foot stature left him physically incapable of mounting and dismounting on his own, even though Ilandere was a very petite centaur, barely larger than a pony.
“Of course,” she giggled and gently reached back to pick him up and lift him down in a graceful arc over her silvery head. Ilandere certainly wasn’t as physically powerful as Elodette, who had the torso of an athletic woman combined with the musculature of a prize-winning stallion from the hips down, but even so, the little princess was much stronger than she looked.
The gnome eagerly trotted after the she-wolf. He was a most unusual and enigmatic creature unlike anyone I’d ever met, but in some ways, an ordinary tavern seemed like his natural habitat.
I entered third to try to keep Lizzy and Willobee out of trouble if I could, which really was more a task for three gods than for one mortal, while I also escorted Florenia in behind the centaurs, and I also stayed outside to keep hold of our five horses until stalls could be arranged for them in the stables of the inn.
I’d thought that maybe that night was a particularly quiet one for Sanctimia, some sort of pious local holiday observed in the home perhaps, but the dining hall of the inn was actually filled with a surprising number of patrons, probably thirty or so. It’s just that their mugs didn’t seem to contain anything besides water, none of them had women in their laps, and none of them were raising their voices at each other any louder than necessary to be heard across the table. Even the barmaids had gowns buttoned up to their necks and skirt hems that swept the floor, which would normally be a straight-up safety hazard and hygienic concern, except that in this particular inn, the rushes that lined the floor looked fresh. No dropped food or dishware, no vomit, no cats, no rats. A beetle probably would’ve been too terrified to scuttle across.
When my party entered, approximately thirty heads rose and thirty pairs of eyes stared at us above unsmiling mouths. Now I felt downright creeped out. I was beginning to regret our decision not to just camp out in the woods where we would have been unlikely to encounter anything worse than wolves, bears, and murderous bandits.
The innkeeper, a frail man in his forties with spectacles and a pinched-looking face, came up to me rubbing his hands together nervously and said, “Ahem. Welcome to, ahem, The Traveler’s Providence.”
“Thanks,” I replied out of one mouth only. “Could we get a table for eight, and stalls in the stable for five horses?”
The innkeeper’s eyebrows rose a little behind his spectacles, and he blinked rapidly at Ilandere and Elodette. “Ah, you mean the ladies will be, ah… occupying…. ”
“No,” I snapped. “We have five horses outside. And four ladies in here, who will be occupying a table, alongside my selves and Willobee here.”
Willobee looked at me with alarm, and I realized that maybe he hadn’t intended to use his actual name here. I figured it’s not as though we were up to anything nefarious, or were stepping foot anywhere we didn’t have a perfect right to be. So maybe if anything the fact that the gnome’s name was known here now would keep his behavior in check a little, although I doubted it. What would probably make a more significant difference was the evident lack of honey mead or any other form of intoxicant.
“Oh, I see, sir,” the innkeeper replied. He looked around the room and pointed to an unoccupied table in a corner. “Why don’t you and your… companions sit there?” He snapped his fingers at a slightly chubby youth passing by. “Quinn, see to this gentleman’s horses. Twins, are you, sir?”
“Something like that,” I said with resignation. These people already seemed uncomfortable enough around us, for no apparent reason other than what my female companions looked like, the combination of their revealing clothing and their animal features I supposed. I didn’t see any reason to burden them with unnecessary details.
“Ah, well, we consider twins a sign of good luck around here,” he said with a slight smile.
That was a new one. I smiled back at him. “How about triplets then?”
“Triplets?” he exclaimed.
“Yes, I’m-- my brother, my other brother I mean, is minding the horses outside,” I explained.
Florenia jabbed me in the side with her elbow. I knew she didn’t really approve of making compromises and accepting even minor inconveniences in order to set what she considered small-minded people at ease. If it were up to the duke’s daughter, we’d announce me as a god and her and Lizzy as my consorts everywhere we went, and I’d just slaughter everyone who had the nerve to object. I didn’t know if her ruthless brand of pride came from being born an aristocrat, or being born so much more beautiful than other women that she was accustomed to being given anything she wanted. Either way, her presence was a temptation to give into all my worst impulses in more ways than one, although she and my other friends had also inspired me to accomplish so much more than I ever imagined myself capable of.
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“Ah! So, four gentlemen, and four… ladies,” the innkeeper said as he checked the count on his fingers. “Will you be requiring rooms for the night?”
“Yes, please,” I said. “We’ll take, ah, four rooms.” One for me and Lizzy, one for me and Florenia, one for the two centaurs, and one for Willobee. I didn’t know exactly where my third self would stay, but ever since I gained a third self, Florenia had been eager to share a bed with two of me, so that seemed like a strong possibility, unless I felt that the rest of our companions needed my protection.
“Four?” the innkeeper repeated. From the way he squinted at us I realized that he was now attempting to calculate who would be sharing a room with whom, not that it was any of his business. “Well, that can be arranged. Two in the ladies’ quarters and two in the gentlemen’s quarters, I presume? Or are the two of you married?”
He was pointing at Florenia and one of me, I suppose because we happened to be standing the closest together. The easy thing to do would have been to say yes, but it occurred to me that he might demand some kind of proof. We weren’t wearing wedding rings after all. Since we weren’t married.
Florenia spoke first. “Oh, Nillibet’s mercy, no. We are brother and sister. And ever since our dear parents passed, bless their souls, I have never been able to sleep soundly unless my brother is in the room with me. At least one of them that is. They are all equally kind and comforting.” I guessed she was resigned at this point to the fact that we were going to play along with the rules of this village or at least, lie through our teeth so that it would seem like that was what we were doing.
Florenia and I didn’t look alike, exactly, but we were of similar ethnic makeup and although I couldn’t match her level of impossible physical perfection, I liked to think that I wasn’t too bad-looking myself. So there was that. But the innkeeper was cringing in a way that made me wonder if he could see right through Florenia’s lie about being siblings anyway. Then he said, “If you wouldn’t mind avoiding such expressions within this establishment, miss?”
“Such… expressions?” she repeated in puzzlement. “You mean, expressions of sisterly affection?”
“No, no, I mean expressions of… ah… pagan idol worship,” he said apologetically.
“Oh, you mean Nill-- which god presides over Sanctimia, then?” Florenia inquired.
“Woulda thought Nillibet would be right up you people’s alley,” Lizzy muttered.
The brutally honest and vulgar-mouthed she-wolf was just about the last person I’d choose as our representative in a potentially ticklish diplomatic situation. I looked over at Willobee to see if any helpful doses of gnomish charm were forthcoming, but he looked so disheartened by the ambiance of this inn and Sanctimia in general that even his foot-long ostrich plume was sagging.
“Monomachus presides here, of course,” the bespectacled innkeeper replied sternly, “just as he presides everywhere.”
Lizzy snorted. “No god can be everywhere at once. Not even Vander. Not till he gets himself a hell of a lot more bodies anyhow. Then we’ll fuckin’ see, eh?”
“Lizzy,” I hissed.
The innkeeper’s face was turning purple as he struggled to formulate a response. The stares we were attracting from the rest of the inn’s clientele had turned from wary and judgmental to outright hostile.
It was at that point that Willobee decided to step in. He pointed to Lizzy and said, “May Monomachus forgive our half-addled sister her errors. She does not really know what she is saying. Sometimes she thinks she is… well… a beast of the forest. Day by day, we try to guide her toward Monomachus’ light. But without careful supervision, she is liable to revert to her old ways. The savage ways that had her in their grasp before Vander’s family found and redeemed her.”
“I will strangle you with your own purple fucking beard, gnome,” Lizzy snarled.
Willobee raised his hands helplessly to the innkeeper. “You see? It’s best not to agitate her overmuch. If you just, ah, ignore the heretical things she says occasionally, without meaning them, then she quickly recalls the righteous ways that her adoptive family ingrained in her.”
“You… know Monomachus?” the innkeeper asked him doubtfully.
“Monomachus rules everywhere, does he not?” Willobee asked.
“Well, yes, of course, but most of the world is tragically ignorant of that,” the innkeeper replied.
“Then he don’t make the laws in most places?” Lizzy demanded.
“His laws apply everywhere,” the innkeeper told her sternly.
“But how’s folks to follow laws they ain’t ever even heard of?” Lizzy persisted.
“Humans are absurd creatures,” Elodette muttered.
I sighed. I hadn’t come to Sanctimia for a theological debate. I’d come for a strong drink, a hot meal, and comfortable beds that I could share with my female companions at will. It didn’t look like we were likely to be served any of the first, but I was still counting on the second, and hoping we could talk our way into the third.
At that point, my third self had just finished helping the innkeeper’s boy set up the horses in the stable, so I stepped through the door to join us.
“Triplets,” the innkeeper muttered at the sight of me, as if he either hadn’t believed me when I’d said it before or didn’t really want to believe it at this point, in spite of his remark about twins being good luck.
“Hey there, could my friends and I get some of that roast duck and sweet potatoes they’re having over there?” I asked cheerfully as I pointed. “We’re terribly hungry and we’d really appreciate it.” I slapped one of my selves on the back in a brotherly fashion. “Looking after our sisters I hope?”
“I could’ve just hunted dinner for us, and we’d be eating already,” Elodette said in exasperation.
“But we wouldn’t have any feather beds waiting for us afterward,” whispered Ilandere. She had a real thing for feather beds, hot baths, and other forms of human luxury that her handmaiden disdained.
“Of course, of course,” the innkeeper agreed hastily as he waved us toward the corner table he had pointed out earlier. He seemed just as relieved as I was to disentangle himself from conversation with our party.
The first really positive thing I could say for Sanctimia was that the cook at that inn was superb. Good enough to be employed by a noble household. For a few blissful minutes, it was actually quite easy to ignore the stares and whispers of the surrounding villagers as all eight of us lost ourselves in the pleasure of tender, juicy duck and lightly caramelized sweet potatoes. Well, seven of us. Ilandere nibbled politely, but she was never very interested in any food except for apples.
Then I remembered something.
“Willobee,” I said to the gnome under my breath, “do you, er, have that pouch of gems that I gave you somewhere readily accessible? It shouldn’t take more than one or two to cover the meal and rooms for all of us. But I lost the other pouch earlier during a re-assimilation.”
“Yes, Master,” he admitted after a moment’s hesitation as he blinked his huge lantern-like green eyes. “Hmm. It is not good to spend without earning. Not good at all.”
“Willobee, what are you--” I started to say again, but the gnome was no longer paying me any attention. He had left behind his licked-clean trencher and sidled off to the nearest table. I was going to try to snatch him back, but then the centaur princess laid her dainty hand on my nearest self’s arm.
“Vander, I don’t think they like us very much here,” Ilandere whispered to me sadly.
“That’s only because they don’t know you,” I told her. “No one can help loving you once they know you, Ilandere.”
From across the table, Lizzy made a gagging sound, so my body sitting next to her lightly kicked her hind paw under the table.
“I’d count it an insult to be well-liked in this place, I don’t think they know the meaning of fun here,” the she-wolf remarked.
“But they’re going to provide us with r
ooms,” I reminded her under my breath, “so we can make our own fun soon. After we finish this duck.” I stripped another leg bare with my teeth. It really was delicious. If the meat had been dry, I might have taken that as a sign that it wasn’t worth sticking around in Sanctimia even for the luxury of walls and doors to separate the members of my party for a few hours. Privacy could be tricky to come by on the road.
Lizzy made a pleased little rumble in her throat and snuggled up to me in a not-very-sisterly way.
“Soon… my dear, handicapped sister,” I reminded her through gritted teeth.
Elodette wasn’t a particularly talkative centaur, and she wasn’t voicing many complaints about Sanctimia, but her cold gray eyes were shooting daggers back at the gawking villagers, and her fingers were twitching in a way that reminded me of how pleased she was with her new bow from the baron’s armory. I had a feeling that the sooner I got all my companions safely upstairs, even the ones that I wasn’t planning to bed, the better.
So I started wolfing my food down as fast as possible. I alternated between my selves. Two would focus solely on eating, while one kept an eye out to make sure my companions were all right, and that none of the Sanctimians in the room with us seemed to have any intentions more worrisome than casting silent judgment upon us. Florenia and Lizzy were both uncharacteristically pouty due to the oppressive atmosphere of The Traveler’s Providence, which occupied some of my attention trying to cheer them up. On top of that, I started trying to calculate in my head how long it would probably take for us to cross paths with Thorvinius’ forces, in the unlikely event that we did not encounter any unrelated obstacles along the way.
The result of all these distractions combined was that I was genuinely startled when someone suddenly shoved a rotund, chainmail-clad gnome into my face.
The result of my startlement was that that someone came within a centimeter of receiving a fork in the eyeball before I recognized just in time that Willobee was in no real danger, and the kick of adrenaline subsided.
The man who had very nearly become one-eyed yelped and dropped Willobee, so I had to catch him.