‘With bodies in the well and ichor-stained sheets? Probably. It’s reasonable that we would stay on the main street leading in, and this was the first inn we’d reach.’ He paused, looking round. ‘Obviously, there are many ways of readying for guests. Who can fathom human cultures, anyway?’
Outside, Nenanda and the others were unpacking the wagon.
Nimander walked to the taproom entrance and ducked to look inside. Dark, the air thick with the pungent, bittersweet scent of kelyk. He could hear Skintick making his way up the stairs, decided to leave him to it. One step down, on to the sawdust floor. The tables and chairs had all been pushed to one side in a haphazard pile. In the open space left behind the floor was thick with stains and coagulated clumps that reminded Nimander of dung in a stall. Not dung, however he knew that.
He explored behind the bar and found rows of dusty clay bottles and jugs, wine and ale. The beakers that had contained kelyk were scattered on the floor, some of them broken, others still weeping dark fluid.
The outer door swung open and Nenanda stepped inside, one hand on the grip of his sword. A quick look round, then he met Nimander’s gaze and shrugged. ‘Was you I heard, I guess.’
‘The stables?’
‘Well enough supplied, for a few days at least. There’s a hand pump and spout over the troughs. The water smelled sour but otherwise fine-the horses didn’t hesitate, at any rate.’ He strode in. ‘I think those bodies in the well, Nimander-dead of too much kelyk. I suspect that well was in fact dry. They just used to it dump the ones that died, as they died.’
Nimander walked back to the doorway leading into the foyer.
Desra and Kedeviss had carried Clip inside, setting him on the floor. Skintick was on the stairs, a few steps up from the mound of soiled bedding. He was leaning on one rail, watching as the two women attended to Clip. Seeing Nimander, he said, ‘Nothing but cockroaches and bedbugs in the rooms. Still, I don’t think we should use them-there’s an odd smell up there, not at all pleasant.’
‘This room should do,’ Nimander said as he went over to look down at Clip. ‘Any change?’ he asked.
Desra glanced up. ‘No. The same slight fever, the same shallow breathing.’
Aranatha entered, looked round, then went to the booth, lifted the hingedcounter and stepped through.She tried the latch on the panel door and when it opened, she disappeared into the back room.
A grunt from Skintick. ‘In need of the water closet?’