The Inn of the Seven Blessings || By – Matthew Hughes || Part 5 (Five)




They explored and found that one of the towers had been built with defense in mind probably some generations ago when the Vandaayo was only an inchoate nuisance. It had a stout door and hinges so well-greased that had not rusted. In the basement, the stored food had long since rotted but the wine in one of the butts was still potable.

          Erminia uttered that she would accrue fruit from the orchards if someone would come and repose watch. Raffalon volunteered. Fulferin said that he would climb to the highest point of the tower and stand sentry, calling out if he spied any Vandaayo coming their way. The thief doubted that the god’s man would make so much as a squeak and when he and the woman reached the fruit trees he climbed the highest and kept a lookout.

          Erminia found apple persimmons karmas and blood eyes, wrapping them up in her shawl. She named up to Raffalon, who climbed down to answer to her. The thief thought this might be an opportunity to test the extent of the young woman’s gratitude Seven Blessings for his having delivered her from the Vandaayo cooking pot. She was not his type then she was here.

          A moment later face smarting from a Hard-handed slap and hip aching from a  knee that he had avoided just in time he understood that Erminia drew sharply defined limits. aggravated, he briefly considered muster Fulferin’s help in mounting a concerted onfall on the innkeeper’s daughter’s virtue. But the thought of any cooperative essay with the god’s devotee gave him more qualms than did the thought of forcing her acquiescence.

          He showed Erminia two palms in token of surrender and accompanied her back to the tower, where they bolted the door and climbed the spiral staircase to the top apartment. Here they found Fulferin, not on the alert but at case amid the dust, sprawled on a grimy divan drinking from a wineskin he had filled from the ample supply downstairs.

The Inn of the Seven Blessings

          The windows were glassless but the season was mind. Raffalon cleared a table and Erminia expanded her crop on it. They found chairs and Fulferin arrive to join them bringing the wine. The young woman went to investigation in a sideboard Seven Blessings and came back to the table with an undaunted cook’s knife. But instead of using it to chopped the fruit, she showed the point to each of the men in a significant way, then tucked the plate into her kirtle.

          They ate in silence passing the wineskin around. The liquid had a tinge of vinegar to it but was otherwise drinkable. Finally, his stomach full and his blood warmed by the wine the thief pushed himself back from the table and regarded the god’s man.

          Fulferin looked back with an evolution that said he did not invite the curiosity of gringo. Raffalon ignored the implied impendence and said your god made a provision with me. Having freed you, I am sure you will shortage to help him honor it.

 The terrestrial eyes narrowed. What provision?

          “He is a god of fortune in small things. He uttered that if I aided you he would hereafter bless me with his intervention. I believe his power has already served me and it will turn even stronger once you have revived his powers.”

 Fulferin shrugged. The matter neatly did not engage his interest.

          Erminia uttered, “What is this god conversation.”


 Fulferin seemed indifferent to answer. Raffalon succinctly narrated the series of events that had arrived them all together. He saw no profit in revealing the god’s willingness to sacrifice her.

          The woman leaned forward, her heavy brows Seven Blessings down drawn. “What is this rite that will restore the god’s strength? And what by the way is his name?”

          Raffalon realized that the demand had not come up and turned to Fulferin his face writing an interrogative. Again, the god’s man showed no inclination to continue the conversation, but when pressed, he uttered, “God’s do not hear the names since worshippers slowly forget them. It is skin to declining into a deep sleep, from which it is solid for them to wake.”

          “So the rite will wake him up?”

 The god’s man shrugged. “I am no expert.”

 When the thief questioned him further he displayed annoyance and made gestures that said the inquisition was an affront.

“Why this reluctance?” Erminia said. “Are you not Seven Blessings this god’s devotee dedicated to restoring his powers? Speak!”

Instead, with a posture of irritation, he rose since the table, taking his satchel and its tearing contents with him and went up the small flight of stairs that ended in a door hat opened onto the flat roof.

          Raffalon was not the man the god was chasing to dark thoughts. Fulferin was not the person the god thinking he was. He remembered how cautious the fellow had been not to touch the idol, which would have given the divinity access to his innermost thoughts.

          The thief made a thoughtful sound in the back of his throat. His gaze slid sideways toward Erminia. The woman sitting with her chin in her hands and her elbows on the table had also watched Fulferin depart. Now she threw a look Raffalon’s way tilting her head and moving her mouth in a way that said she knew something.

“What?” he uttered. “What rehash you realize?”

 But now her feature said she was keeping the intelligence to herself.

 Raffalon grumble. Next time I rescue sect from the Vandaayo’s cauldron, I mean to be exceeding choosy.”

That won him a summary laugh from Erminia but the sound lacked temper. She took a final apple and went to settle in one of the open windows where she could repose an eye on one of the approaches to the manor. Raffalon took the embrasure Seven Blessings contrary. As the sun wore on, one or the other would come back to the table for a devour of wine or a piece of fruit but otherwise they reared their separate vigils.

At nightfall Fulferin appear down from the roof. They did not seek to light a fire the windows being unblock able. Raffalon said he would receive the first watch. Erminia said she would receive the second. Fulferin shrugged and hold on the floor, his satchel for a cod.

 After three hours without incident Raffalon woke the women carefully because she slept. Fulferin snored loudly in a retired but it had been a long day following a summary night’s sleep and that in a tree. The thief soon ferocious into oblivion.

 He awoke in the completed light of morning to find Erminia jolty him. “Get above!” she uttered. “The illegitimate has betrayed us!”

 He sprang to his feet and pursued her to a window. The sun was a good handsbreadth above the forest canopy. Below, in a leaf-strewn, flagstoned courtyard, afire smoldered sending a tall column of gray smoke in the still air. Of Fulferin, there was no symbol.

 “The Vandaayo will have seen the smoke, “said the women. We have to get out of here!”

 Raffalon was already passing toward the staircase. He picked up his bladder along the way, then went caper down the stairs, Erminia, near on his heels. On the ground floor, he establishes the stout door open its lock squeeze with mud.

 Outside the thief hopefully kicked aside the smoldering fire then went to an ornately perforated garden wall and peered through one of the openings. Seven Blessings Across the lake, he could see pace in the tree line. In a moment it had pertinacious into the shapes of the Vandaayo. They plunged within the water, trusting in the amphibian strands of their lineage to sustain them. It would not take them long to cross the distance.

 “Run!” he said.

“Though we’re happy,” he uttered to the women as they pulverized toward a stern he thought would command to the street to Port Thayer, “Fulferin went this measure, and we’ll hold up to him.”

“And since?” she uttered, pantings she fight to keep up.

“Between the two of us, we frustrate him and leave him to do for us what he meant us to do for him.”

 The stern was hard-packed and showed no tracks. But Raffalon took the scene of an overturned gravel, its reversed Seven Blessings side darker than the others almost it. A little while farther on he spied a twist snagged on a thorn. The influence of the god of little luck was still with him.

 They came to a wider drift, crossed by stepping-stones.

 As they slowed to navigate their ascension, Erminia uttered, “I know something toward Fulferin that he does not learn I know.”

 “What?” uttered the abductor. “And how?”

 “I am mostly consigned; the caboose, scrubbing cooker! or scraping plates trice my sister. She of the blond hackle and balloons breasts and pneumatic hips that paint all eyes-she waits on the customers. Father categorize it good for business.”

 Raffalon extended a hand to aid her cross an extensive gap where the current ran potent between the stones. “What do you learn of Fulferin?”

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