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direction. The housemaid on the side porch of one of the houses looked in
Kharl s direction, then quickly away.
After half a kay, the houses ended, suddenly, as did the avenue, although a
side street led back westward, away from the bluff edge. Directly before Kharl
was an unkempt mass of undergrowth extending a good fifty cubits. Beyond *hat
was a mass of tumbled white stone. Kharl realized that he stood at the edge of
the former hold of the Dukes of Lydiar.
Following a narrow path, Kharl made his way through the undergrowth. The
bushes and twisted high grass ended, abruptly. Nothing grew past a point five
cubits from Kharl s boots until somewhere on the farther southern side of the
ruins. He could sense why nothing grew there, for the rocky soil looked and
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felt dead. It did not look evil or menacing, but it was& empty. He could sense
neither order nor chaos, just a feeling of great age. One of the white stones
was a good five cubits long and half that in height and width. It had been
cut, as if by a mighty knife, into two pieces, one twice the size of the
other. Another stone still bore the imprint of a lightning bolt, black-etched
into the white stone. Amid the larger stones were fragments of columns, and
roof tiles, as if the entire structure had been smashed and the remnants
tossed and stirred.
After a time, Kharl retraced his steps back to the avenue and followed the
side street, then another avenue, making his way around the ruins, until he
came to another street that led downward toward lower Lydiar.
Less than a hundred cubits down from the edge of the bluff, on the right-hand
side of the street, behind a narrow garden surrounded by a knee-high wall,
twin lamps beckoned from each side of the doorway of an establishment that
billed itself as a cafe. Kharl paused and looked over the building, then
stepped forward. It felt more orderly than any he had seen in Lydiar, and the
mixed aromas of food smelled inviting, tinged with seasonings he did not
recognize.
A menu was chalked on slate beside the door. It took him several moments to
decipher the meanings, and the prices, before he opened the door and stepped
inside. He could certainly use a meal other than shipboard cooking, even if
the prices were higher than in more modest places.
A slender older woman greeted him.  We only serve ale and wine with meals.
Her voice was polite, level, and carried a tone of slight amusement.
 I was looking for a good meal, not for drinks. He paused.  Brystan silver
good here?
 We take anyone s coins, so long as they re not clipped. She turned,
gesturing for him to follow her to a square table set beside a brick wall.
There were two chairs, unpadded, but with arms. Kharl took the one that let
him survey the rest of the cafe, a space no more than ten cubits wide and
twenty long, with but eleven tables of various sizes. Only three of them were
occupied, one with a couple, a second large circular table with a family of
five around it, and a third with two men in the corner.
 You re not local.
 No. I m a ship s carpenter.
 How d you get up here?
 I walked, past the large houses and the ruins& 
 Most sailors don t get out of lower Lydiar.
 I m not most sailors, he replied with a smile.
 Did you see the bill of fare outside? I can tell you what s on it, if you d
like.
 I think I got most of it, Kharl replied,  except for the langostinos. What
are they?
 You re definitely not most sailors. The woman smiled.  They re a Lydian
lobster, with only one large claw. Very tasty.
 Which is better-the langostinos or the burhka with the black mushrooms?
The server cocked her head to the side.  That s a hard one to answer. The
burhka s very spicy, very hot to the taste, but rich, and the mushrooms are at
their peak. The langostinos are more delicate in taste, but very filling.
 I ll try the langostinos, and whatever ale or lager you think will go best
with them.
 The lager s better; the red ale would overpower them.
Kharl smiled.  Thank you.
She left the table and slipped through a narrow archway, returning almost
immediately with a large glass mug, filled to the top with a pale liquid,
which she set on the table.  I hope you like it.
 I m sure I will. Kharl took a sip, wondering, but after swallowing that
small amount, found himself nodding. The lager was excellent, with a smooth
bite that wasn t in the slightest bitter. He had the feeling that he might
regret the evening, if only because he clearly couldn t afford to eat and
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drink such fare often-if ever again.
He put that thought behind him as he took another sip of the lager and looked
toward the doorway, where a tall man had appeared. The hostess greeted him,
and the two exchanged words that Kharl strained to hear,  & we ll be full in a
bit& 
 & don t look that crowded& 
 & have a number of people coming in within the glass& 
 & couldn t fit us in?
 & sorry, but it just isn t possible. The chef had promised&  The tall man
scowled, then turned and left. There was& something& about the man, but he
departed so suddenly that Kharl couldn t exactly figure out what it might have
been.
Kharl took a slightly larger swallow of the lager, enjoying the taste, and the
warmth of the cafe, feeling more relaxed than he had in days.
Before long, or so it seemed, the server returned with a large platter, on
which were the langostinos, steamed in their shells, with a dark brown rice,
and a butter cream sauce, and a small, crusty, freshly baked loaf of white
bread.  There you are.
 It looks and smells good. Should I pay now? Kharl asked apologetically.
 You can pay when you leave. That s our way. If you honestly don t like the
food, you don t pay.
 You re very trusting. She laughed.  We re not trusting at all. Kharl
understood, abruptly.  The man at the door?
 He wouldn t have been happy here, and it wouldn t have been good for him or
us. Can I get you anything else?
 No. This looks like more than enough.
 Let me know if you need anything. She slipped away from Kharl and moved to
the table with the family.
For a moment, Kharl just reflected. Somehow, the woman knew who could be
trusted and who would enjoy the place, and just didn t let others in. Her
remark about not being trusting at all suggested that there were other
defenses, but he didn t see any. With a shrug, he began to eat.
He ate every morsel, and finished the lager down to the last drop.
 You liked it, I see. The server smiled broadly as she appeared at his table.
 The best meal I ve eaten in years, Kharl confessed.
 Thank you. I ll tell Hasif. He likes it when people appreciate his cooking.
The woman smiled.  You re welcome here anytime.
 Thank you. Kharl put a silver and a copper on the table.  I enjoyed it.
Greatly.
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