The Fields of Asphodel

Chapter Two: The most curious thing has happened...

---

Audio by myself

---

Excerpt from the diary of Delilah Tessel Rider, an Ambassador of the King of the Land.

Umbriere, Day 2

Morning

The most curious thing has happened

I was supposed to be picked up and brought over to the Mansion last night—Mazzerof’s Mansion, it is technically called, but it being the only mansion in Mid-Hinterlands, everyone here just refers to it as the Mansion—instead I was whisked away by a somewhat gruff but kindly lady to a nearby inn to stay the night. She referred to herself as Mrs Jerrudo, and called herself a representative of the Mayor of the town. She had said that rather flippantly, and now, come to think of it… she must be the Mayor’s wife, for the Mayor himself is a Mr Ferdinand Jerrudo.

… I really hope I had not said anything to embarrass myself and the Kingdom last night. I was so very flustered. God, forgive me.

But. Back to the most curious thing… Get this: Mrs Jerrudo had explained that Gerra did not want me to come over at night. I am uncertain if I had heard incorrectly in my fatigue, but there was some odd emphasis on the words “did not”. I had at first dismissed it as the poor little lady feeling too tired to receive guests after a long day, but it keeps popping up in my head. It’s just.. The way that she said it.

… because she did not want you coming over at night.

She did not want you coming over… at night.

Strange, is it not?

Anyway. Small matter.

I was well provided for by my gracious hostess, so no complaints there. Town-square Inn—I’m starting to notice the people here have a penchant for being quite literal—was clean and cosy. It will take time for me to get a feel of the cost of accommodation in this region, in case, you know, someone other than my dragon-friends decide to visit me. But I do have the sense that this particular inn is on the more pricey end of the spectrum. Either that, or its owner takes much pride in the furnishings and framework of the place, and keeping it tidy.

One thing, however. The bed is firm. No, it is hard. It is like sleeping on wooden floorboards with a mat splayed out across it. That is my only complaint, that I woke with a stiff neck. Apart from that, the scent of clean linen and fluffy new towels was enough to make me feel welcome. Ooh, yes, and the dinner! It was exquisite! Incredibly exotic! I believe the meat in the stew came from the famed Lanatus Bovis of the Hinterlands, quite literally, the Wooly Cow. The meat is quite gamey, and there is a smell that lingers in the breath (I had to brush my teeth twice before bed), but the food warmed me from the inside, and kept me full through the night. Best of all, it was paid for, courtesy of Mrs Jerrudo and the Mayor.

I am currently trying Wooly Cow milk, and I must say, I am going to get fat at the rate I am going. The cream is heavy, and goes down smooth. They thankfully have a black tea here that tastes very much like our Earl Grey back home, and I have added some of this milk to my tea. They do serve the milk on its own, but in little small cups. The keeper of the inn had grinned and told me not to take too much of it. Tourists are apparently prone to stomach upset with more than two cups. Imagine that!

It shall be my personal goal to train my digestion to accept this milk-based nectar, this ambrosia.

Till then. I await the cart—yes… they still use carts here, even though that was the predominant form of transport two eras before!—that is supposed to pick me and my belongings and fetch me over to Gerra’s. Peter is the name of the driver, I believe. I checked on the Heating Shards this morning, and it seems that Mrs Jerrudo had already arranged for it to be distributed to their issued owners. She is an efficient woman, that one.

---