Into the thinking kingdoms - Alan Dean Foster [50]
“How can you tell?” Simna chuckled softly.
Coubert laughed along with the swordsman. Removing the pipe from his mouth, he gestured with its bowl. “Well for one thing, no one I have heard of, not even lords and noblemen, travels with a house cat of quite such imposing dimensions. Much less one that speaks.” Seeing Ehomba’s expression, he added, “I heard all three of you talking outside as you approached the cottage. And your manner of dress, my friend, is also strikingly new to me.” He frowned slightly as he turned to Simna. “Your attire I can almost place.”
“You live alone here, Lamidy Coubert?” Ehomba asked him.
“Yes. Except for Roileé, of course.”
“Yet you allow us, three strangers, freely into your home. Two well armed, and the third a meat-eater of great size and strength. And you are not afraid?”
Coubert coughed lightly, checked his pipe. “If your intentions were malicious I could not have stopped you. So I might as well greet you.” His smile returned. “Besides, I have lived a long time now by myself. Here on the edge of civilization I get few visitors. So I try to treasure those I do.”
“I hate to disillusion you, old man, but this isn’t the edge of civilization. South of here lies the port of Lybondai and a host of other coastal cities.” Simna’s throat was calling for refreshment but he decided to hold off a while longer to see if their host offered before he made the request. “And beyond that, the sea of Aboqua, and the cities and cultures of the south. Myself, I’m from far to the east, and I can tell you, we’re goddamn civilized out that way.”
“I am sure.” The oldster was courteously contrite. “I meant no insult. It is simply the view that is generally held in the Thinking Kingdoms, and therefore one with which I am familiar, though I do not hold to it myself.” He gestured expansively. “Obviously, you three are as civilized as any people.”
“Two.” On the thick oval carpet before the crackling fireplace, Ahlitah spoke without lifting his head from his paws.
“Yes, well.”
“Where are the Thinking Kingdoms?” Ehomba inquired softly. Beyond the door and window, evening was stealing stealthily over the land. The muffled baaing of sheep was interrupted by the occasional booming of muted thunder. He could not tell which way the gathering storm was moving. With each strobing flash of unseen lightning the walls of the cottage seemed to grow stronger, and to tighten around them all like a finely made, heavy coat. A chill entered via the still open upper half of the double door. Feeling it, Coubert moved to shut the remaining barrier against the rising wind.
“The Thinking Kingdoms are all the lands to the north of here,” their host explained as he returned to stand near the fireplace, slightly to one side of the sputtering, popping blaze itself. “There is Bondressey, and the Dukedom of Veroi-verai. Farther to the north one may enter the Grand Barony of Melespra, which is bordered by Squoy East and Squoy South. East of the Grand Barony lies the river port of Urenon the Elegant, and downstream from it the province of Phan that is ruled by the enlightened Count Tyrahnar Cresthelmare.
“Those are only a few of the most notable kingdoms immediately to the north of here. There are many more, to east and west and to the north of Phan.”
“And all these tribes—these kingdoms,” Ehomba corrected himself. “They are at peace? I ask because we must travel farther north still.”
“There are always disputes and altercations, bickerings and controversies.” Coubert turned philosophical. “It is the nature of sovereigns to debate. But war is rare in the Thinking Kingdoms. Each ruler prides himself on his or her intelligence and learning. Altercations are most likely to be settled through reasoned discussion, sometimes by greatly respected teams of logicians.”
Simna indicated the pack and sword he had removed