gentlemen

From the wide road, he turned into the inn "Under the Advancing Cancer." It was dusk, so it was high time. Upon entering, he found what he expected. All the tables were occupied, and above the roaring hearth hung a smoking cauldron, promising a delicious supper. No one paid him any particular attention except the obliging host, who was dusting a small table set aside especially for the newcomer with a cloth. The traveler, approaching him, his cool gaze swept from beneath his hood pulled down over his eyes, over the faces seated at the tables. With a nod, he accepted the dish of the day, warmly praised by the innkeeper. He sat facing the room so he could observe everyone present.

"Who are we hosting today?" he asked when the innkeeper arrived with the food.

"Well, those in the middle, it's not a difficult riddle, they're merchants from the south, you can tell by their attire, they did well, they're jockeying to see who got the better deal, they're laughing. That one over there is probably returning from town, probably on official business, as there aren't many purchases, he's neatly dressed and keeps some kind of letter wrapped in a scrap of cloth. Hmm... those two are a difficult riddle, they're sad, young, apprentices, their hands are worn out. The one closer to the wall is learning to be a blacksmith, his hands are red and his wrist looks like it's been burned, he's strong in the shoulders, the other one is either a shoemaker or a tailor – his fingertips are white from the pricks, probably a shoemaker, because he's of good build. They look alike, maybe brothers, so it's a family affair, sad, a funeral?

" "You're getting better at solving these riddles."

"I use my ears and eyes, nothing more."

The innkeeper left, and the mysterious guest began to stare at one of the brothers, who was telling another in a hushed voice. He stared at him, and the young man's voice grew louder in his ears.

"The Master said it was like that." They had barely lowered the coffin when a clatter and groans began to emerge. The chaplain said they were probably burying an infidel and wanted to pull the coffin out, so the sinner could be buried outside the consecrated ground, but the peasants carrying the coffin were so frightened that they let go of the ropes and quickly filled the grave. Only three days later did the chaplain find some brave souls willing to dig up the coffin for a hefty fee and agree to bury it again under the cemetery wall. When one of them accidentally tapped the lid with a shovel, it split in two, and there was the body, twisted as if the devil himself had wrung its soul out.

The brothers looked at each other uncertainly, and at that moment they noticed that other guests from the inn had surrounded them and were listening. For a moment, everyone froze. After a moment, one of the merchants, clutching a mug of beer in his hand, began to speak:

"I was once in the East on business, and we stopped at an inn where only scum frequented, to our ruin. Fortunately, my companions and I suffered no harm, for we proved a grateful audience for the boasts of these thugs. Among them were grave robbers. One of them told us that, searching for jewels, he opened one of the coffins in the tomb of local nobles and saw a similarly twisted corpse. We didn't believe him at the time."

"And did that rich man have something on his conscience?

" "Who knows? When I was in those parts, I never heard anything bad about that family.

" "Evil isn't seen or heard at all; it's only revealed through its effects. Last spring, they hanged a woman who, with a single thought, brought about a fire on her husband. "

"It's impossible.

" "She confessed herself.

" "She must have lost her mind; she should have kept her mouth shut if she managed such a trick.

" "I don't know why, maybe her conscience got to her. People say that a terrible woman's scream could always be heard from their house. But whether it was her voice or that of some devilish being, no one can testify.

" "Well, how is it that she brought about a fire on her husband and escaped with her life?

" "One night, she quietly escaped from the house, and, as she later confessed to her sister, she wanted to reach a neighboring town. And that night, their house burned to the ground. Her husband perished in the flames; before he died, he woke up because of terrible screams coming from the flames."

"She probably set the fire, she wanted revenge."

"And that's the end of the story, she ran away from home just after dark. She knocked on the door of that monastery on the hill at midnight and asked for shelter. Apparently, she prayed on her knees before the holy painting all night. And only at dawn did a storm break out and a bright lightning bolt struck the roof of their house.

" "So where's her fault?

" "As soon as she found out, she immediately returned to town and said that she had killed her husband, that she had such thoughts, that she wanted him to die, that it was all her fault and the punishment must fall on her because she couldn't live like that.

" "Well, but she was in the monastery then.

" "And who knew, no nuns were called as witnesses.

" "Maybe she prayed it herself.

" "Don't blaspheme!

" "Maybe she was some kind of witch.

" "If she had been a witch, she would have turned the man into a frog and given it to the stork."

Everyone laughed heartily, shattering the mournful atmosphere. Even on A faint smile appeared on the brothers' faces.

When the commotion subsided, a man with a bundle in his hand spoke up:

"I also heard a strange story, that some people encountered death itself, that it waved at them and left.

" "How did they know it was death?"

"So, is it death or something else? It's a close friendship, because those who told the story didn't suffer any harm, but apparently, someone was walking along the road, missed death, and then found two piles of ash on the road.

"Piles of ash on the road—anything for me, too?

" "Yeah, and with them were clothes, small bundles, as if the whole man had been reduced to ashes..."

At that moment, the mysterious traveler slowly rose from the table and, passing the conversationalists, waved his hand in their direction.

The interlocutors fell silent. Several opened their mouths as if to say something, but their voices caught in their throats. The silence was broken by the bang of the inn door closing and a wheezing sound that turned out to be coming from the throat of one of the merchants. Everyone watched in horror as the man, equally terrified, clutching his throat and knocking in his chest, whispered:

"Oh God, that was death in that hood, oh God, he was reduced to ashes."

Everyone started to jump away from the table they were gathered around. Alerted by the unusual noise, the innkeeper ran out of the pantry. No one answered his question about the cause of the commotion. He put down the two enormous jugs he was holding, parted the crowd, and, seeing the merchant, who was already almost blue, approached him. He stood behind him, grabbed him by the armpits, lifted him up, grabbed him above the waist, and yanked him toward himself. Then he sat him back down at the table, cleared away the remnants of food that had fallen from his mouth, and placed a jug of clean water in front of him.

"Drink and rest. You'll be fine."

The merchant was so stunned he didn't say a word. The other guests cautiously began to sit back down.

"What kind of trick is this?" they began whispering. "He pushed that piece of meat out of him.

" "Or maybe he threw something else out—you saw how quickly he cleared the table."

The table erupted in turmoil once again, only now their eyes darted sideways, wondering if the innkeeper was approaching.

He turned from the wide road into the inn. He hadn't expected this. He waved his hand. He shook out a handkerchief from his sleeve, pressing it to his nose. Unable to believe his eyes, he approached the ruins. He couldn't believe that the only constant in his life lay at his feet. What riddles would his mind entertain now? The monk couldn't control the anger rising in his heart. He tried to quell it by turning his thoughts to prayer, but the feeling of irreparable loss took over.