Chapter 1 | 20 (part 3)
They were tall, powerfully built, and clothed in some nondescript manner that could have come from anywhere. Their eyes were cold and their expressions grim. The air around their table seemed to waver as though it were weak and thin, drained of all life. Moving past Amos and the woman, they came to a table on the opposite side of the inn and sat down in silence. After a few moments, Amos wondered where the kitchen boy was, and why he hadn’t come out to ask if they wanted something to eat or drink.
“Well, if that’s how I’m to get any answers out of you, I suppose it will have to do for now,” the woman said, a touch of impatience in her voice. He flicked his eyes away from the two men and back to the woman. “Maybe you’d rather not tell me why you’ve come to Huaráz, or where you’ve come from, for that matter, but I intend to know once you’ve settled down a bit.” She pushed the bowl of soup and bread toward him. “It’s been some time since I’ve seen such fear in a face,” she continued, “but I’ve never known a hot meal to prove harmful in these matters. Eat, traveler.”
Amos looked down at the bowl. It doesn’t seem possible that they would have found me so fast! Even I didn’t know where I’d break in. He would need to be ready to run at any moment. Given where the two men had sat, he determined the front door or the window above his table were the best options at this point. That being decided, he reached for his spoon, wondering now what he might say to dispel the woman’s suspicions. Humility could work.
“Thank you,” he began, “your kindness is most welcome.” He ate a spoonful of the stew and thought back on some of the questions he’d heard her ask. “And I ask your forgiveness. My thoughts have been dark and distant this night. It was not my intent to ignore your questions.”
“I might have guessed,” the woman smiled. “Think nothing of it.” Again, her face suggested she knew what he’d been thinking, and had even recognized his attempt to divert her suspicions.
As Amos continued to eat, she looked around the inn once more. “You should know that few - if any - in Huaráz will make any connection between you and this upcoming storm.” Her sharp eyes must have seen Amos flinch as he lifted the cup of tea to his mouth. “Oh, I’m not saying I know all that’s behind those walls of yours, nor could I say with any certainty that my guesses will prove true. Perhaps you’re simply a traveler who’s fallen on tough times, and no more than that.”
Again, she looked inquisitively at him. “I suppose we’ll just have to wait and see.” Her face softened, “I will say this, traveler: be at peace here in Huaráz. I will speak nothing of what I may - or may not - see in you and will not press you any further on the matter for the time being.” Her eyes held a gentle firmness that sounded as though she would press him further when she so desired, and that she was used to having such a request met.
Amos set his cup of tea down, glancing at the two men across the room. Still they had not been served any food or drinks, and remained as statues, silently sitting across from one another. “They will not trouble you either, traveler,” the woman said, and Amos turned to her, puzzled. Could she know who they truly are? She continued. “No one in this inn or anywhere within a day’s ride of Huaráz will question your story, however you should choose to tell it. We are honest and expect the same from all those who enter our lands.” She sat back in her chair, drawing a breath and calmly looking back at him.
“I must give thanks to you once again,” Amos said, and this time he meant it. Though the woman’s earlier questions had unsettled him, he could see no lie upon her face as she promised her protection and the trust of her people. Perhaps I could stay here awhile. She seems much closer to our world than I had imagined mankind capable of and has already offered hospitality without question. But those two men worried him. If they were who he thought they were - or worse, if they remained in Huaráz or recognized Amos - peace here would never be possible.
Or could it? The woman seemed confident that they would not trouble him. Does she know them in a way unfamiliar to my own experience? How else could she offer such protection? A thought occurred to him. “Those two men across the room,” Amos said as casually as could, “would either of them be able to help me tomorrow?” He thought quickly. “I have some work outside Huaráz that requires no small amount of strength, and an extra pair of hands would be most welcomed.”
“And by my looks you would so quickly consider me insufficient for such a task, traveler?” the woman said, an eyebrow raised.
“By no means,” Amos began, “but what I intend to do -”
“I understand,” she interrupted, the shadow of a smile upon her lips. “Years ago, I might have taken offense. But as I’ve aged, I’ve come to appreciate my limitations and weaknesses.” Amos looked curiously at her.
“I must ask, though,” she said, lowering her voice and looking across the room where Amos had indicated, “which men were you referring to? The two nearest to the bar?” she asked, nodding in the direction of a larger group standing between the hearth and the bar.
“No,” Amos replied, his voice low as well, and not daring to look or signal in the direction of the two men, “on the other side of the bar, seated at the table in the corner.”
The woman looked, then turned to face Amos. “That table, and all those around it, are empty, traveler.”
. . .
