Chapter 9: Chapter 8: Ratern

Finally, the city walls of Ratern came into sight, glowing in the sunset. The city was built at the mound of a gorge which merged here with the main valley. Steep red cliffs hung over the city. The city walls span the entire width of the gorge from cliff to cliff. The walls were not very high in most places, the second floor of many townhouses being higher.

I was tired and thirsty, my paws were aching, and the wound on the hind flank oozed again. Despite this, I was determined to dash for the gate. Of course, I was irritated when Freya stopped me instead. "Why? Only half a mile going?"

"Half a mile to go, Yes. But I will walk. Please. Save Sdsafs." She deliberately spoke not in mindspeak. Then she took off her tunic and jumped in her good clothes, sweaty from the hot summer day. "Ready?"

"Then going," I and started to walk briskly in spite.

Freya was not as tired as me, having been on my back for the last hour. She leisurely ran along me. I tried pouting. If she was so determined to walk, she could have gotten off earlier. But her smile derailed any of my efforts. I gave up. "Why walking Freya?"

"No Sdsadf for dffsfds."

I just shook my head. "Try easier."

"No money for walking, but money for riding?"

I shrugged. "Word understanding. But not understanding."

She slowed to a normal walk. "Please, later. The gate closes." And ran on.

Indeed, they were starting to move the big gate leaves as soon as the last rays of the sun left the gate tower. Of course, they saw us and another wagon in front of us. Nevertheless, they closed one leaf.

I let Freya in front because I expected problems. And indeed, we were not allowed to just enter. It became clear even to me that the guards wanted our money. New world, familiar problems.

Freya argued with her hands, taking even out her healer's tunic. I had to show my wound, had to answer some questions. When the other gate leaf closed behind us it became suddenly very dark. The guards gave up and ushered us away.

"Imbecile!" she cursed in mindspeak, "the wanted gate toll. For pedestrians! Of course, the is a rule that a mount plus a rider pay a knight's toll. But a mount cannot talk." And so on.

Well, I had seen nothing that looked like a talking mount apart from the centaurs. Thus, I was clearly not a mount since I had answered their questions. But it had been my money. And Freya had double standards, wasn't she comfortable on my back just half an hour earlier? "Thinking centaurs paying more?" I tried to distract her.

"Er, with these guys sure."

My distraction had the desired effect: Freya was again paying attention to our surroundings. Because I had no idea where to go.

The houses were mostly timber frame and looked poorer than the ones in the vine villages, lacking a stone ground floor. Also, most of the houses looked in dire need of repair: The wooden beams had faded in the sun, thatch was showing where clay had fallen off, clapboards were missing and very few had some paint at all. But life was there, talking singing, clanging, shouting, the full range. And all quite audible, since none of the window frames had glass panes, just empty frames with wooden shutters.

And this was a real town, with hundreds of houses, overhanging the roads. This was mostly because the tax was based on the ground floor area; a universal concept (like taxes in general) transcending worlds. Unfortunately, the overhang was also used to compensate for the lack of plumbing. And while the overhang created the same dark lighting as deep in the woods, the smell was not fresh in any way. It was hard to navigate in the shadows of the fading twilight through the reeking piles of manure and pig shit (the local rubbish workers). And I even had four big paws to keep clear. Freya easily outpaced me.

Soon there was shouting from the tower, probably 'six o'clock, returneth home' or something along these lines.

Then we came to a large open place, the market, where the pigs ate the very last leftovers. But it had large areas of safe navigation (probably the areas of the stalls during the day) and I could catch up to Freya. It challenging to quickly identify all the piles on the ground in the fading twilight. And no streetlamps of course; even very few windows had some light. With the darkness also the sounds faded quickly. But the end was near: The inn was just around the corner.

Getting a room for the two of us involved again a long-heated discussion. I was supposed to sleep in the stable. Only upon my broken protests, I was allowed to stay with Freya. I am pretty sure, the landlady charged us for three in spite. (It would have been just if it had contained the food.) Anyway, Freya paid from my purse ...

The room was up a steep and narrow staircase: My first encounter with these contraptions in this world. And the ceiling was low, so cheating and just walking on hind legs was out of the question. However, upwards was easy. I would not be able to give way to anyone in the narrow corridor but had no problems reaching our room. And the door opened to the inside, sparing me an otherwise impossible 170-degree turn or the shame of walking backwards.

I unbuckled the saddle bag and was ready for dinner. Although, I would like a shower or a bath. "Do you think, I can get a bath here?"

"In Ratern, now? Usually, people go a little upriver by the Gorge Gate. But that is closed now. And a bathhouse is out of your budget, at least for someone your size. But"

"Yes?"

"I know you won't like it, but a horse grooming would be very cheap."

I sighed. "After all the effort to convince the landlady?"

"You paid already. She accepted. Deal is deal."

I let my head fall in protest. But no choice. "Please leading."

I was very worried about the staircase down. But surprise, the mere steps were ok. Squirrel's voice assured going head down is right. But the human Kiara did not feel right. I tried bending backwards. But I was not flexible enough for taur Limbo dancing under the support beams. I sighed and went on all six limbs. Then it was child's play.

With Freya's help, I ask for a vegetable soup with lots of leaves, including carrot greens and all other otherwise not used leaves. The landlady looked at me like a deranged fool. At least this time she was probably too afraid to overcharge, at least Freya thought the money was fair.

Since this late the fire was already out, it would take some time to cook our dinner. Thus, we went to the stable next door. The tired stableboy there was very uncomfortable that I ordered and pay for my own grooming. It was clearly not the way the world should operate. Still, money was money. Uneasy, he hurried with the grooming but in his skilled way. There was not much dead fur though. That work had been done by the children two days ago. But his tools were better and in a short time, my fur did no longer cling to my flanks and was again silky and even fluffy. The grooming rather intensified the cinnamon smell. But to get rid of that I would need a real bath.

Freya was already with a beer when I returned. On my question, she just pointed to the backyard. There was a well with two buckets on ropes. The water smelled bad - literally like shit; like the whole town. Not helped by the outhouse across the yard. I made a note, to drink only boil water here. But the water was good enough to wash dust and sweat away from my upper body. Somehow the cinnamon smell was strong enough to mask the unpleasant smell of the water.

When I was back, my big vegetable hotpot was ready. Maybe it was the water, even the hotpot tasted like the town reeked, and quite some leaves were a little welk. But it was filling.

"I going sleeping."

"You are sure, not to join us for a beer or two?"

That had been more like five till now. "No, sleeping!" and yawned.

"Your loss."

"Good night." Then I went up the steep stair to the room. Up was really easy even without squirrel's help.

* * *

Somebody was knocking at the door. I slowly got up, sleepy. "Yes?"

I didn't recognize the silhouette in the faint light from the single candle. "Please, come down and see your dsdfjkhf."

"Yes," I followed him, very carefully navigating the narrow steep staircase on all sixes.

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When I was fully at ground level, he pointed to Freya, who had fallen asleep on the table.

"Thank you," I sighed. There must be a reason why she overdid it. I pried the still quarter-filled mug out of her hands, put her head and arms over my upper shoulder and went up the stairs. In our room, I put her in the bed which would not fit me anyway.

Then I went back to sleep, tail below and head on my paws, my own mattress, willing away the dying noise from the tavern below.

* * *

As usual, I woke up at the crack of dawn. The inn was still dark and silent. And using all six limbs, the stairs creaked much less compared to going up on four legs. Outside the stars had gone already. And the early morning allowed me to use the outhouse in the backyard without too much embarrassment because my front half stood out of the door. And then some quick wash of my face with the cold but smelly well water from a mouldy bucket. But it was less revolting than yesterday. Maybe my sense of smell had numbed?

When I came back, a maid was already working in the kitchen.

"Good Morning. Please, cabbage?" I shouted to her.

She came to the counter and then almost dropped the mug she was carrying.

I smiled gently, avoiding exposing the fangs. "I am Kiara. Here sleepinged."

"I am Lea." Then she shook her head. "Sorry, welcome to the Broken Mug. For breakfast sdgf sdfgdf bebreje."

"Only cabbage, please. Meat no!" I shook my head.

"You sfsdfsd from Kwal?"

I guessed she asked about my origin. "No, far away." Ok, technically I was probably brought to this world in Kwal, if Freya's suspicion was true. But that explanation was still far out of my range of communication.

"And eggs, not bacon? Herwfer asd Cabbage eggs?"

 Since none of the voices protested too violently, I nodded. "Good, Cabbage eggs."

"Five eggs, seven coppers."

I counted the seven coins on the counter and sat down on my haunches.

She reappeared a short time later with a big plate of cabbage and eggs, with some local variety of parsley. Even squirrel voiced me to eat, not just look. It was great, so much better than yesterday's hotpot. I asked for some bread and then ordered another plate. The complimentary mint tea was quite watery, but at least it was boiled water and the mint took out much of the smell.

During the second plate, the next early riser came and a little later all five tables were occupied. I thought I saw at least one cleric. He was also eating cabbage eggs, so my wish was not so unusual. And instead of beer, he had the same mint tea. There the similarities ended: He was in a hurry and wolfed down the meal. All the time with a face to spoil milk. In my world, he would have carried a briefcase and rushed to an upscale fast food, checking his smartphone while his stock plunged.

I was positively full, my belly in the lower body was stretched, filled to capacity. While digesting and waiting for Freya, I looked around. Since I had not enough knowledge of guilds and professions around here, and even more, no idea who would stay in a guesthouse. Hence, I would guessed the trades and then I imagined them in my world. The slightly fat guy in the corner would be a trucker at a diner, getting fuel for the long haul and having half his social interaction for the day. Hence, his friendly face and the animated talk to his neighbour, a tall young man. I decided on a musician, hitchhiking with the trucker.

On the table next to them were two women, old and young. They looked as different as possible, so maybe master and apprentice. They had matching leather jackets with many pockets. I decided on embroiders on their way to a noble house. Back home, hmm, private hairstylists, on the morning before a big gig at the arts festival.

Then there was the returned solder with his still inofficial sweetheart. Only eyes for themselves, not even glancing once in my direction! Even though taurs are not that often around here. But today he will go to her house, asking for her hand. Still good for modern times too, I decided.

That left the last table. The two were rangers or hunters. They had feathered berets on their table, real green berets, not military style, and the gear ready next to them included two longbows. They shared a big roasted bird for breakfast, which was itself a statement.

That left me as the odd one here. Back, or rather, at the far away home, maybe people would imagine me as a cosplayer.

I asked for another cup of tea and wondered if I should wake Freya. Before the tea was cold enough to drink, Freya came done the stairs, and run to me and hugged me tightly. "I thought you were gone." in mindspeak.

"Good morning, Freya. Where should I go? Come on, clean yourself, you are reeking of beer. I will wait here."

She let go, "Sorry."

I smiled. "Washing!"

Soon she was back and ordered bacon and eggs. Still smelly.

"Traveling road again?"

"What do you mean."

"Road making paws paining."

Freya sighted. "The road hurts your paws?"

"Not hurt." Frustrated I grabbed her hand for mindspeak. I mean, I whispered. "My digits are bent too much on the cobblestone. Walking in sand or wood is easier, and the valley is so hot. Is there another way?"

"Hmm." Then she stood up and walked to the hunter/rangers, who were just leaving. Just a short exchange and she came back.

"If you do not mind some hills, there is indeed a shortcut, since the Ratern valley will join the Kren river, which we would have to follow northeast."

"Great, let's follow that route."

"They said, it is not suitable for horses."

"Good thing we do not have one," I grinned.

* * *

The town was quite different in the morning. When we left the inn, the sun was up and a slight breeze came from the gorge. Everyone was already up and about. There were even people collecting all the droppings. (They sold them to farmers, Freya told me.) Hard to believe for me, but good to know someone takes care. Without worrying about where to put my paws, my attention went to the different styles of clothing. Brown and earthen tones dominated, either the natural colour of the fabrics or via a long attack of stains. Scarves, and head and wrist bands stood out with brighter colours. Freya could tell by them which guild the people belong to. And occasionally there were free men, either rich or noble, easily spotted by their fancy clothing.

The market was packed with stalls and customers. Even there was little space at the periphery. But Freya wanted to buy provisions, which mean to go right in it. I hold my tail high and stiff to not accidentally swipe it through someone's face. Brushing occasionally tent poles was a side effect.

And then there was the noise. Apart from the first evening, which felt much longer than just four days ago, there had not been that many human voices talking over each other. Or much of any noise at all. But here, merchants shouted out their wares at the stalls, children giggling and running in between, haggling customers, all mixed together in a strangely familiar city noise, unaffected by the new language or even the lack of cars. The murmur of a city.

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