Disappointed, they found only moldering food, utensils fashioned of base metals, and eventually, a bin marked “food for animals.” The dog was almost hysterically grateful for the feed they gave it, and though they appeared well enough, the three cats who had one by one emerged from the hidden depths of the house readily joined in the feast.
The canary in the elaborate cage that hung near a far window was in more desperate need of sustenance, which the grumbling soldiers also provided. Unexpectedly, one let out a yell and nearly knocked his companion down in his sudden haste to escape the farthest corner of the kitchen, where a large wired crate sat upon a sturdy shelf among pots and bins. Instantly, weapons were drawn to deal with this new threat.
Sword in hand, the terrified soldier hovered halfway between his captain and whatever it was he had espied in the farthest reaches of the kitchen.
“What is it, Dessevia?” Slale asked tersely. Staring in the direction from which the shout had originated, he saw nothing.
“A serpent, sir! A bleeding great hideous nasty serpent!”
“It is said that wizards often keep dangerous familiars close about them,” someone whispered from near the back of the invaded kitchen.
“True enough, but such sorceral servants are usually drawn from the ranks of cats and sometimes dogs, which creatures we have found here in plenty.” An amateur scholar of some knowledge, Slale was proud of his book learning. “A sorcerer might keep a serpent to utilize in other ways.”