Book One – Chapter 19

More than an hour dragged past like that, bowl after bowl and mug after mug, and still the adventurers showed no sign of stopping. Nion alone was gobbling down his fifth bowl — that is, the fifth Yu had brought him. Yu had no idea how many the nepter had inhaled earlier, while Yu had been upstairs tending to his burns, but the sheer bottomlessness of his hunger filled Yu with bitter resentment. Nion was tall, yes, but his limbs were all bone and stringy tendon. So where did it all go?

The borman matched him, bowl for bowl. Yu had served him five as well. He had never asked whether the borman wanted more. He had simply carried out a new bowl whenever there was a brief lull at the fireplace. Likewise, the borman had never asked for more, not after the second, third or fourth, and also not after the fifth bowl. He simply waited, once for half an hour, and he ate everything that Yu placed before him. He thanked Yu each time. But he never asked for more.

The krynn drifted in the silence between them, dividing himself between the borman’s table and the sick bay. He ate only two bowls in total, spooning each mouthful with the dull efficiency of someone who ate only because he needed sustenance, not because he sought satisfaction. Nothing in his taut frame suggested want. Nothing in his eyes suggested taste. It made Yu wonder if he was used to live kill.

Eventually, Yu cleared both their bowls and brought no more — neither for them, nor for the others. The moment was agonisingly awkward and he was panic-screaming inside from start to finish, but he managed to declare that from now on there would be drinks only. He did not say why. He just tried to sound firm. Official. Like Bubs, with that quiet, immovable sort of tone that implied his authority as a given, as if Yu actually had the right to say, Time to shut it, you spoilt pieces of shit.

He did not use those exact words.

Still, it was not un-true. Far from it. Though, Yu’s true reason was another. He needed to stop because the stew was more than half gone, and he would not risk reaching further down with the ladle. He would not go fishing at the bottom of that pot, not for the life of him, and certainly not for their gluttony. Whoever was still hungry would just have to suck it up and sleep it off until Bubs cooked breakfast.