Cyrus Whittle staggered to his front door while he fumbled to tie his dressing gown. He stumbled on a chair that after 40 years of running this inn he still couldn't seem to remember was there. By the time he reached the door he was in a bad mood.
"Who is it?" he said civilly. Even if he was stewing on the inside, he didn't want to risk offending any customers.
"Innkeeper Whittle so nice to see you once again," a perfectly groomed voice said. It took Cyrus a second to realize who it was.
"Master Thomas? What brings you here at this late…or rather early hour? And in this blasted bad weather too," he exclaimed. He could hardly believe it. The normally impeccably dressed palace steward was dripping from head to toe. Behind him were two other men, one much younger and one middle aged. All of them looked wet and miserable.
"Master Innkeeper," the young man said stepping forward, "we need to know as much about Mistress Yaga as you know,". Cyrus was taken aback at the sense of authority in this youth's voice. Moving the candle closer to his visitors, he could see their features more clearly.
"Well blast me down!," Cyrus couldn't help but blurt out. It was King Wendell, honest to goodness, the man on the money, King Wendell.
"Er, begging your pardon Your Highness," Cyrus amended and attempted a courtly bow. It sure did a number on his back though. King Wendell waved his hand graciously in acknowledgment.
"Master Innkeeper, do you have any information on Mistress Yaga?," the king asked again. His question took Cyrus aback.
"The healing woman from the country?" Cyrus asked incredulously. Though he had never gotten to know her, Mistress Yaga never seemed like the type to bring trouble. The king nodded in answer to Cyrus' question.
"Well… she's a real nice woman, never caused any trouble. Usually only stays a few days. Pays her tab regular too," he added. The men looked disappointed.
"Is that all you know about her?" the middle aged man near the king asked.
"Those are the first things that an innkeeper notices. But ehm, some other things…," Cyrus muttered. He made a ticking noise while he thought about it.
"Always the same horse… sometimes she goes with the cook to the market in the mornings. The cook actually could tell you more," Cyrus said. Before the men could order him too, the harried innkeeper was on his way to the cook's quarters. He turned back to the door quickly,
"Follow me if you please," he said. He scuttled down the hallways with the three men hot on his heels. They passed the kitchen and hit a doorway. Cyrus rapped a few times on the door. After a few moments a woman came to the door. She was of average height and more than average weight. Her brown hair was down in a long braid and she looked dazed with sleep. She had lines on her face, but it seemed that they were all from laughing. Wendell could just imagine her singing while baking fruit pies.
"Cyrus just what is it? You know that after hours I am strictly unavailable," she said crossing her arms.
"We have some important guests Vera," Cyrus said with a nervous chuckle.
"This is King Wendell, Lord Anthony and the Palace Steward Thomas. They are looking for information on Mistress Yaga. I know you're well acquainted with her,".
Vera inhaled sharply and dipped into a curtsy. Her mind stalled at the sight of such important men. Then in an instant her mind started racing to collect all of the information she had on Mistress Yaga.
"Aye, I know Mistress Yaga. She and I go to the market together sometimes. She's able to get good prices and make a little extra money every time we go," she said.
"Make money when you go shopping?" Tony said skeptically, "That's a trick I'd like to learn. Ya know for when I get my Rolex,". He jabbed his elbow into Thomas' ribs for emphasis. Anthony was impressed at how dignified Thomas could look even when being poked in the side.
"Oh well she sells 'erbs. She 'as some of the best 'erbs in… well probably the 'ole kingdom. She's also one of the closest sources for cranford root. It's great for the complexion, gets rid o' scars and blemishes, wipes the skin clean like a slate. So wealthy ladies and merchants alike will pay top dollar for it,".
"Do you know where she lives?" Wendell asked a bit impatiently. He didn't care about complexions, after all his was rather good. So was Rose's. Vera caught Wendell's tone.
"Not really. But I do know that cranford root has to grow in the woods, like mushrooms. The darker the better. And they like trees with lots o' birds," she offered. At that point Cyrus piped up.
"The darkest forest for two hundred miles is the Eastern Night Woods. Its where nearly a hundred murders of crows go to roost at night. And there is a village some miles from there," he said proudly. He knew that this was a choice piece of information, especially when he saw the King perk up.
"Now we go," Wendell said sternly as he made his way out of the inn. Thomas followed quickly. Only Tony stayed behind.
"Thanks a lot. You two have been really helpful. Hey, I bet you get invited to the wedding!" he waved to the innkeeper and the cook.