the road to the wicked city - 23. kobra and irene

by jeremy witherington

for previous episode, click here

to begin at the beginning, click here

when kobra had first introduced himself to the inn, and continued to return to it, the innkeeper had supposed that he had the same object in mind as so many other wayfarers who passed through - the innkeeper’s beautiful daughter. kobra paused in his description of his youthful awakening to his destiny. he reached into his pocket for his ever present pipe and slowly filled and lit it. the innkeeper was used to such pauses from his fearful guest. and hoped that this one would stretch out long enough for him to be able to take his leave and retire for what was left of the night. “this daughter of yours,” kobra began suddenly, apparently abandoning his account of his introduction to world theology, “she must work hard, your business being so profitable, and with so many guests to attend to.” the innkeeper never knew when kobra was serious, or when he was poking fun at him. was he mocking his lack of custom, or did he really think the inn was doing such an excellent business? “she is a dutiful daughter,” the innkeeper replied cautiously, “and performs her duties as instructed.” kobra did not make any response to this, just took a puff of his pipe. “i have trained her as best i could,” the innkeeper went on. “but of course who knows what goes on inside her head, or inside any woman’s head?” “or if women even have heads,” kobra replied, and chuckled at his own little joke. “true,” the innkeeper smiled back. “she is very comely,” kobra said, through a growing haze of pipe smoke. “so i am told. of course, as her parent, i still see her as a child.” “she is beautiful enough for an empress.” “it is gracious of you to say so.” “a new day is dawning,” kobra said, “and a new empire may be on the horizon.” “one ever knows what is written in the stars,” the innkeeper replied. “summon her. summon this daughter of yours. i wish to speak to her.” “of course.” the innkeeper bowed his head slightly. “anything for such an honored guest as yourself.” “what is her name, by the way?” “irene, her name is irene.” “an excellent name for an empress. but we are wasting time. ” kobra waved his pipe at the innkeeper. “bring her to me.” “she may be asleep.” “wake her up.” * the innkeeper climbed the stairs. he felt a sense of foreboding, but also some relief that the moment he had long been expecting had finally arrived. irene was not in her room. surely she was not wandering outside in the storm? the innkeeper listened, he thought he heard her voice, coming from the top floor, where the meaner guest rooms were, and where the four travelers who had arrived earlier had been quartered. he climbed the second flight of stairs. yes, that was her voice coming from one of the rooms. was the baggage in bed with one of the guests? there was nothing for it, he would have to drag her from the guest’s embrace and bring her to kobra. as the reader knows, irene was recounting her tales within tales to the poor fool, and had reached the point where king john lancelot v beheld his offspring… it awakened the cows and goats who had been slumbering in the shadows of the hut, including one goat with more than a passing resemblance to the old one himself… with trembling hand. the innkeeper knocked on the door of the fool’s room… 24. the gargoyle's tale