Sherwood Smith Quote

When I woke the air was hot and stuffy, and I was immediately aware of being shut up in a small painted-canvas box. But before I could react with more than that initial flash of distress, I realized that the carriage had stopped. I struggled up, wincing against a thumping great headache, just as the door opened.There was the Marquis, holding his hand out. I took it, making a sour face. At least, I thought as I recognized an innyard, he looks as wind tousled and muddy as I must. But there was no fanfare, no groups of gawking peasants and servants. He picked me up and carried me through a side door, and thence into a small parlor that overlooked the innyard. Seated on plain hemp-stuffed pillows, I looked out at the stable boy and driver busily changing the horses. The longshadows of late afternoon obscured everything; a cheap time-candle in a corner sconce marked the time as green-three.Sounds at the door brought my attention around. An inn servant entered, carrying a tray laden with steaming dishes. As she set them out I looked at her face, wondering if I could get a chance to talk to her alone--if she might help a fellow-female being held prisoner?Coffee? the Marquis said, splintering my thoughts.I looked up, and I swear there was comprehension in those gray eyes.Coffee? I repeated blankly.A drinkable blend, from the aroma. He tossed his hat and riding gloves onto the cushion beside him and leaned forward to pour a brown stream of liquid into two waiting mugs. A miraculous drink. One of the decided benefits of our world-hopping mages, he said.Mages. I repeated that as well, trying to marshal my thoughts, which wanted to scamper, like frightened mice, in six different directions.Coffee. Horses. A careless wave toward the innyard. Chocolate. Kinthus. Laimun. Several of the luxuries that are not native to our world, brought here from others.I could count the times we’d managed to get ahold of coffee, and I hadn’t cared for its bitterness. But as I watched, honey and cream were spooned into the dark beverage, and when I did take a cautious sip, it was delicious. With the taste came warmth, a sense almost of well-being. For a short time I was content to sit, with my eyes closed, and savor the drink.The welcome smell of braised potatoes and clear soup brought my attention back to the present. When I opened my eyes, there was the food, waiting before me.You had probably better not eat much more than that, said the Marquis. We have a long ride ahead of us tonight, and you wouldn’t want to regret your first good meal in days. I thought as I picked up a spoon, but I didn’t say it out loud--it felt disloyal somehow.Then the sense of what he’d said sank in, and I almost lost my appetite again. How long to the capital?We will arrive sometime tomorrow morning, he said.I grimaced down at my soup, then braced myself up, thinking that I’d better eat, hungry or not, for I’d need my strength.