Month: February 2022

PROSATIO SILBAN HAD TO LOOK twice before he realized what he was seeing. Why is this Xao woman, he asked himself, dressed as an Uulian?

It was a fair question. The Xao were almost the oldest original residents of the Exilic Lands, whose mythology had prepared them to regard (some would say worship) the late-arrived Uulians as prophesied saviors – who would restore to pristineness their oblivion-shattered realms before sailing back across the Rimless Sea. Although the “saviors” did transform the landscape as foretold, centuries passed without their fulfilling the latter prediction; as a result, some of the indigenes lost faith in their people’s teachings.

Others had found ways to cope. Including, it seemed, by assimilation. Continue reading “Prosatio Silban and the Boundary Crossers”

IT BEGAN, AS DO SO many seriously frivolous matters, with an impassioned tavern-boast.

“Outside of present company, the best cookery in the Uulian Commonwell is found not in epicurean Pormaris but in its provinces,” burly, wise-eyed Apista Thurtok said. “And the best meal is roasted fidget-hen basted in honeywine, made at The Bouncing Wench in Yellow Meadows. And that is the final word.”

“The Soup Demons it isn’t!” rejoined the wiry and emphatic Olto Grex. “It’s One in Silver’s inwards-stew in Crows’ Path.” Continue reading “Prosatio Silban and the Gourmet Gallivant”

“YOURS IS A NOBLE CALLING,” Prosatio Silban said. “Pray, what is its secret?”

The waiter from the acclaimed restaurant Tide & Time had just finished his breakfast of poached fidget-hen eggs, salt-cod-and-potato hash, and stone-rye toast. He took a last sip of hot yava, swallowed, set down his cup, and smiled. Continue reading “Service (A Prosatio Silban Amuse Bouche)”

“HIS NAME IS FIRENZO OOBAHR,” Firenzo Ebli said. “And he needs to find himself. Please – let it be in your employ.”

Prosatio Silban put on his most polite face. “I am honored that you thought of me, but I am not certain that I am the one to help your son,” he said. “I have always worked alone, and to be frank, there is little room in my galleywagon for more than one cook. I am afraid that we would get in each other’s way – the more so, since he won’t know what he or I am doing.” Continue reading “Prosatio Silban and the Friend’s Favor”