"I didn't mean-"
"Yes you did," he cut her off. "You're a bull-headed bossy little witch, and I happen to like that. Just not too much," he said with a wink.
She seemed to realize that he was joking, and laughed. She put her paw on his shoulder, then leaned in and gave him a very delicate kiss. "If you're going to cheat, you may as well go for broke," she whispered in his ear. "I'm dying for some lobster, and some cherries, and some of those little fried pastries they make in Shace."
"Hypocrit," Tarrin teased. "I can do the lobster and the cherries, but I've never seen those pastries before, so I can't conjure them. But I can conjure up some uta, which is a pretty tasty Arakite pastry. I think you'll like it. They smother it in honey."
"I'll give it a try. I've been dying for sweets for days."
"You should have said something."
"Sweets? Papa, you're going to make us sweets?" Jasana asked with bright eyes.
"Not too much for you, cub. I don't want you bouncing all over the tent," he told her. "Sweets do that to a cub, you know. I'd like to sleep sometime tonight."
"As if she wasn't energetic enough," Jesmind laughed.
"I'll take what I can get," Jasana said with a huge smile, bouncing up and down on Tarrin's lap.
"And what you can con out of us," Jesmind added with a grin, flicking the tip of Jasana's nose with a finger.
"That's part of what I can get," Jasana told her mother easily, which made Tarrin laugh.
Tarrin did in fact go for broke. He first Conjured a very large tent, more like a portable canvas gazebo than an actual tent, something large enough under which to place a table without enclosing it. Then he Conjured a large enough table for eight, benches, and then he went about getting the food. He filled the table with all sorts of foods, from Sulasian standards like mutton and beef to exotic dishes, like the lobsters Jesmind wanted, curried rice that was popular in Yar Arak, and a spicy soup called chinga that would burn the mouth that was also rather popular there. He also made a dish called anthari, something that Dolanna had made once, a dish native to her home of Sharadar, which consisted of strings of a strange bread-like substance she called pasta smothered in a rich sauce made from tomatos, which also had in it meat and various vegetables that accented the flavor. Tarrin had thought it to be rather grand, and he'd been thinking about making some of it for a while. It had become all the rage in Shace, with their famous chefs actually travelling to Sharadar to learn the secrets of its making from the master chefs of that southern kingdom. He conjured such a great amount with two things in mind; to please his mate and his child and also to test to see how strong he was, to see how much he had recovered. He did get a little tired after conjuring the food, but it was a good measure of how much he had recovered. He could still whip up the dessert, and after a night of rest, he'd be just fine in the morning.
Kimmie returned with Thean, Arren, and Sathon not long after he and his family started digging into his created feast. They all looked wildly at the gazebo-like tent, and the huge table loaded with foods of every description. Sathon chuckled when he saw the meal. "I see Tarrin's recovered," he remarked, shaking the water off his cloak as they came under the roof. "He went and conjured up enough for fifteen men. Or eight Were-cats."
"We can't help it if we eat so much, Sathon," Kimmie said mildly. "Blame it on our metabolisms."
"I still can't figure out how you eat so much, but never so much as put on an ounce of fat," Sathon complained. "You're almost as bad as Faeries."
"Not quite that bad," Thean laughed. "I take it we can help ourselves, Tarrin?"
"Be my guest," he motioned at the food. "Hang your cloaks up over on that post and join in. Sathon, I thought you went with the others. Why are you still here?"
"I started out with them, but only to get them going," he replied. "I needed to come back and help the Torrians. I just back a while ago."
"Kimmie said you had something serious to tell me, Tarrin," Arren said, looking at the food as Thean and Kimmie hung up their cloaks, then sat down and started loading their plates. "What is that?"
"Lobster," Jesmind replied, cracking its shell with her fingers, then using her claws to dig out the meat. "Go to Shace sometime, and you'll see it. Kind of silly of them to love them so much, since they have to import them from Tykarthia and southern Ungardt. The lobsters only live in cold water."
"I say, Tarrin, would a human be welcome at your table?" Arren asked speculatively. "Some of that smells wonderful. You'll have to explain what it is, though."
"You're as welcome at my table as any of my friends, Duke Arren," he invited.
Arren and Sathon hung up their cloaks and then joined in. Tarrin didn't notice that Arren went for the chinga soup first, and the man about looked ready to have a heart attack when he tasted it. He scrambled immediately for the water, draining the tankard set at his place on the table, then fanned his mouth with his hand. "By Karas' hammer, I've never tasted anything so hot!" he exclaimed.
" Chinga soup. It's an Arakite specialty," Tarrin told him. "Sorry, I should have warned you about it."
"Now I'm curious," Thean said, filling a bowl. "I had some chinga soup in Arkis once. About burned the fur off my ears, but I have to admit, it was pretty tasty after you got past that." He sipped at a spoonful, then breathed out heavily and laughed. "It's even hotter!" he laughed. "Tasty, though."
"Thean, you are weird," Kimmie teased him.
"Get as old as me, and you'll try new things just because they're new," he told her, taking another sip of the soup.
"Anything else on this table that can kill me, Tarrin?" Arren asked plaintively.
Tarrin laughed. "No, the soup is about it, Duke Arren. Everything else is safe."
"Just Arren, if you don't mind," he grunted. "I think we can dispense with titles. You're about the only one that uses it anyway," he added with a grin.
"Were-cats aren't much impressed by human titles," Jesmind shrugged. "You'll get more respect from us by your actions than who your parents were."
"I've noticed," he said, trying the anthari. "My, now this is good," he said with a smile.
"A personal favorite of mine," Tarrin told him. "Dolanna made it for me once. It's a dish native to Sharadar."
"I'll have to ask her for the recipe," Arren said. "As soon as I get Torrian rebuilt and get things back to normal, anyway. Right now, my chefs can only cook basic things to feed all the refugees."
"I wish there was something I could do to help you with that, Arren," Tarrin sighed. "But unfortunately, about the only thing I can do is give you some gold to help cover the costs of rebuilding."
"I'll take that with gratitude," Arren nodded eloquently. "Anything you can do to help would be appreciated."
"I'm going to help with that, Duke," Sathon told him. "I have a group of Druids on their way here. They'll use their magic to help you feed and clothe your people, and help to rebuild the city as quickly as you can. They should be here about the same time the refugees go to the villages and get some clothes, and then come back. You'll need their help to rebuild the city, but Fae-da'Nar will help in the recovery any way we can."
"That's very nice of you, Sathon," Arren smiled.
"We can't help but feel responsible for it, Arren," Sathon sighed. "Tarrin is one of us. What he has done here reflects on us all, so we must act to correct it."
"I didn't have any choice, Sathon," Tarrin said grimly. "I already feel guilty enough about it."
"I understand that, Tarrin, and believe me, I believe you didn't have any choice. I went around and saw all the bones. There had to be at least four or five thousand soldiers in the city. I just can't believe that they managed to hide so many men from us, right under our noses!"