Pyewackethorpe
© 2021 by Walter Reimer


Thumbnail art by  dragonmelde, with color by  marmelmm


The storm eventually stopped as they reached the top of the pass, Meredith keeping her sword drawn and ready in case anyone from the Temple tried to catch up to them. She paused at a downhill turn in the path and pointed. “I see a light, down in that hollow.”

Varan said, “Too small to be the city.”

The light turned out to be an inn, and as they walked into the common room the feline behind the bar said in a friendly, almost avuncular tone, “Welcome to Hotel Sex! We left a light on for you.”

Meredith felt her paw tighten on her sword. “You were expecting us?”

“Not you two specifically,” the orange tabby assured them. “We don’t want to give customers the idea that we’re closed, though.”

“’Hotel Sex?’” Varan asked.

The tabby nodded happily. “No sex in the public spaces, and you might want a Do Not Disturb sign if you don’t want unwanted bedmates,” he said with a wink. “Although when I see two lovely women together, I can guess that you don’t want any company.”

“No,” Varan said with a smile as her tail snaked around Meredith’s waist, “we don’t.”

The innkeeper gave them a room key and the sign that they would need to put on the door before saying, “Complimentary breakfast. Have a good night, and don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.” He gave them a wink as they headed upstairs to their room.

Fortunately, the beds were clean and comfortable. Meredith put the sign on the door, while Varan used some of the mage’s low supply of mana to soundproof the room, shutting out the sounds of messy (and loud) sex that could be heard from adjoining rooms and the “Aws” of disappointment from people who saw the Do Not Disturb sign.

The breakfast the next day was offered in the common room, which held surprisingly few people apart from the mage and the paladin. Varan sipped at her tea and observed, “I think the other guests are still asleep – or still twining tails.” Her ears, and Meredith’s, both flicked and they glanced ceilingward at a loud thump.

Meredith chuckled. “I’m glad we decided not to join them. I really needed the sleep, and I know you did as well.”

Varan gestured affirmatively, with an added flick of her tailspur to denote enthusiasm. “I needed to recharge the mana pool, but now I’m ready for anything.” The vir suddenly stopped, her eyes widening. Dropping her voice to a whisper, she leaned forward and asked, “Do you think it heard me?”

Meredith leaned in close and replied in the same voice, “Deus, I hope not.”

The city of Pyewackethorpe was in a valley, surrounded on three sides by farmland and bordered on the west by the forbidding bulk of a mountain range that Varan supposed was the Mountains of Moo that the Great Teacher had mentioned. It was surrounded by a stout stone wall and had gates on the northern, southern, and eastern sides.

The pair joined a line of people, predominantly felines, who were lined up at the eastern gate. Several brawny-looking guards of both genders were keeping the line moving, while a guarded booth at the gate itself was seeing a brisk business. Carts and wagons piled with various goods and pulled by feral dray animals were part of the crowd.

“What’s going on?” Meredith asked as they approached the gate.

The panther femme shrugged, making her armor creak. “Everyone pays toll. Five silver, each.”

“Toll? What for?”

“Congestion charge,” the guard replied. “The Baron doesn’t want too many people crowding in.”

“Why?” Varan asked. “Isn’t that bad for business?”

The pantheress shrugged again. “I don’t get paid enough to care about that. Either pay, or get out of here.”

Fortunately, both of them had enough coin to pay the toll, and entered the city.

The place was laid out quite methodically for a game with a somewhat medieval motif, and the paladin and the mage entered a bar on the edge of the central marketplace. Bars and inns were good places to acquire information.

The place was called the Wree, and it was a dark and rather stuffy place, with various unsavory types eyeing them as Varan stepped up to the bar and ordered two ales. The portly bartender served her and Meredith, and the two looked around.

There was a barista.

In fact, there were two of them, seated at a table and playing cards. One laid their hand down, and started to rake in the pot when the other grabbed the first one’s paw and turned it over to reveal an extra ace. The first threw her mug of beer at the other, and they came out of their chairs, punching each other and punctuating each blow with various exclamations.

“Venti!”

“Mocha!”

“Espresso!”

“French roast!”

The second one slugged the first in the stomach, then grabbed her by the seat of her pants and the scruff of her neck and threw her onto the bar. The unfortunate barista slid down the bar, with Meredith, Varan and the other patrons stepping back to see the feline slam head first into a largish box festooned with lights.

The lights flashed, and music started to play. Lights descended from the ceiling, and a number of the patrons started to dance.

“This is rather silly,” Varan observed over the music’s beat.

“Quite agree!” said the uniformed canine that they’d first met at Bug Tussle’s nude beach. He set aside the small glass of liquor he’d been sipping and marched out onto the dance floor. “Right!” he shouted. “Stop that!”

The music ground to a halt. “Right,” the canine said, “this has all gotten far too silly. Let’s see something nice and dignified. Something military, like precision drill.”

The other patrons looked at each other, shrugged and fell into line. They then began to march in a very exaggerated manner while chanting something.

“RIGHT! STOP THAT!” the canine shouted. “It’s SILLY – and a bit suspect, I think.” He walked out, muttering to himself.

Varan finished her drink. “I think we should look around the market.” The barista that had been thrown into the music machine had left a book behind on the bar, and the vir picked it up, noting the title (Coffee Recipes and Other Atrocities) and tucked it into the satchel she kept her spell books in. The palomino mare nodded, and they left the bar before the fight started again.

At one stall in the middle of the market square, an irate customer was arguing with the vendor and, in a fit of rage, started sweeping items off the counter, shouting, “Fuck this! Fuck that! Fuck this too!” for each item he shoved off onto the ground. Guards were coming to arrest him as Meredith and Varan walked away, pausing at one of the permanent shops that ringed the square.

Divine Source Cheese Shop, the sign proclaimed; a smaller sign below it announced that it was Licensed for Public Dancing. String music could be heard coming from inside.

The two looked at each other, Meredith settled her paw on the hilt of her sword, and they walked in.

A banner over the main counter read Blessed are the cheesemakers, and the shelves and cabinets held quite a variety of goods. Apparently the Temple’s “specialty line” was a good seller in Pyewackethorpe.

“Meredith?” The vir was studying the selection of cheeses in a large, glass-fronted display case.

“Yes, Varan?”

“What is ‘Venezwālen Bēvor Chēz?’” Varan asked. “They have quite a lot of it in stock – “

“They’ve lumps of it round the back,” one customer interjected before shuffling out the door.

“Really?” Meredith asked.

“Yes,” Varan said. “They’re offering a fifty percent discount, with all proceeds going to charity. I think I shall buy some,” she added, after first casting a magic circle to assay the cheese for poison or transformative properties. There were none, so she bought a quarter-pound.

“The Temple has a good sense of business,” Meredith remarked after they had left the shop and continued exploring the marketplace. The mare noticed that Varan was eating some of her purchase, and she asked, “How is it?”

“Ernnh,” the vir said judiciously, “an earthy and . . . piquant flavor.”

There was a prolonged rumble of thunder, and the pair looked westward, along with everyone else in the square as a vast pall of black cloud began to gather over the western mountains. Another roll of thunder, and people started running about in a panic.

Meredith said, “I think that’s our next stop.”