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Vemak tossed her head. “It was not.”
“Very good. So perhaps parlay may be possible between you and, um, Hawl,” I suggested as diplomatically as I could.
“Parlay! Ha!” Vemak spat.
“Never,” growled Hawl. “Sooner jump overboard.”
“Fine,” I snapped, starting to lose my temper with them both. “Perhaps not today. But youwillbe cordial to one another, and there will be no further... pan throwing.” I eyed the spoon. “Or spoon hitting.” I saw Vemak start to open her mouth and swiftly added, “Or abusive behavior with kitchen utensils of any kind!”
For a moment, the little cook glared at me. Then she seemed to think better of whatever she had been about to say and, instead, whirled back towards the ladder to the lower decks.
Rubbing my temples, I turned to the Bearkin. “Well, Hawl. We’ve been aboard this ship for weeks, and yet, strangely, it’s only now that you and Vemak have this violent encounter. How very odd.”
“I’ve been sneaking into the kitchen at night to cook,” Hawl admitted. “And to tidy up that woman’s mess. Ate some of the mice, too. Figured it was the quickest way to get rid of them.”
I pressed my lips together tightly to stifle a grin.
“So long as you didn’t slip them into a pie,” Gawain murmured.
I cleared my throat. “I must admit, Hawl, it’ll be a pleasure to have you cooking for me again. I didn’t want to set myself apart from the crew, but if you really have missed the task, well...”
“I’ll provide treats for the crew on occasion as well,” Hawl said thoughtfully, tilting their head to one side and looking as if they were already planning the upcoming menu. “To give them a taste of some real food.”
“Ah, yes, out of sympathy, of course. Very kind of you.”
“Cockroaches can be very nutritional,” Hawl noted. “Ground down into a fine powder and put into a cake, why, I doubt the crew would even think twice...”
“No!” Gawain and I exclaimed at the same time while Ulpheas looked a little green.
“I believe we have the necessary provisions aboard not to have to resort to ground insect powder at this time,” I said. “But should rations run low, it’s truly heartening to know you could improvise, Hawl.”
The Bearkin sniffed. “Mortals and their strange tastes. I suppose I’ve become accustomed to them, however. Fine. No cockroaches. Now, a nice mouse stew, on the other hand...”
Gawain groaned.
But I had already turned my back. As Hawl continued to speak about the culinary delights of mice, I looked out over the Kastra at the setting sun.
Something had begun gnawing at my mind. A persistent feeling of unease.
Thousands of miles away in Pendrath, something was wrong.
