Amos Daragon_ The Mask Wearer - Bryan Perro [10]
Amos asked what a humanimal was. He had never heard the word.
“They’re humans who are able to transform themselves into animals,” the sentry explained. “When I was very young, people talked a lot about humanimals. Now it’s more a legend than a reality.” He shrugged. “I never believed those stories, and I doubt that the man and woman who died this morning had such an ability. Our ruler must feel very helpless. No one knows what is really happening in the kingdom. Every night, we hear awful noises coming from the forest. The residents don’t sleep much. Everyone lives in fear when night comes. I don’t know what to think of all this myself.” He shook his head. “Well, it’s time now to open the iron grate. Good-bye, young man. May the light shine on you!”
“May the light shine on you as well!” Amos answered.
The peasants entered Bratel-la-Grande, followed by the Daragon family. Urban, Frilla, and Amos immediately searched for a place to spend the night. They found an inn called the Goat’s Head. It was a dark, disquieting place. The walls were gray and dirty. There were a few tables, a long bar, and several customers talking to each other. The atmosphere seemed sinister to the Daragons when they walked in. They knew full well that they were being stared at from head to toe.
A pleasant smell of warm soup wafted from the kitchen, and Amos was nearly drooling when they sat down at a table. The chatter started again and no one paid them any more attention. After a few minutes, Urban called the innkeeper over. The man did not move from behind the bar.
“There’s a wonderful smell coming from your kitchen!” Frilla said, trying to get his attention. “We’d like to eat and sleep here tonight.”
The man still did not budge. He simply went on talking with the other customers, not bothering to glance at the Daragons. When the family finally decided to leave, the innkeeper winked to his regular customers.
“One moment,” he shouted. “You must pay before you head out!”
“We did not eat, we did not drink, sir,” Urban answered. “So why should we have to pay?”
“Be informed that we don’t wait on strangers here,” the innkeeper said, beaming with satisfaction. “Yet you’ve enjoyed the aroma of my cooking, for which you must pay. Did you imagine that you could indulge your hunger and not give me a few coins?”
The other customers burst into laughter. Obviously they were used to hearing the innkeeper extort money from unsuspecting travelers.
“You must pay or go to jail!” the innkeeper went on.
Urban refused to open his purse. Three men got up, clubs in their hands, and went to block the exit.
“Go and bring back a knight,” the innkeeper told one of his friends. “We have a problem here.”
A few minutes later, the friend returned with a knight. It was Barthelemy.
“What is going on this time?” asked the weary knight as he walked in.
“These thieves want to leave without paying,” said the innkeeper. “They inhaled the fragrance of my soup and refuse to pay for it. This is my inn and I can sell whatever I please, even a smell, isn’t that so?”
Barthelemy recognized the Daragon family.
“You came to the wrong place, my friends,” he told them. “This inn is probably the worst one in all of Bratel-la-Grande. According to our laws, this man is right; all travelers who stop at the Goat’s Head are swindled in the same way. He uses our laws to his advantage. He’s a crook and there is nothing I can do about it. I must make sure that this man is paid for the kitchen smells you enjoyed. I must also tell you that in case of a dispute, the knights will judge the case. I counsel you to give him something and leave. There is nothing I can do for you.”
“Very well,” Amos said with a sigh. “We will pay the innkeeper.”
The whole assembly erupted in laughter again. The trick always worked, and the regular customers always watched the scene unfold with glee.
Amos took his father’s purse. “We have exactly six gold coins,” he told the innkeeper.