In THE DEADLIEST HATE, Miriam describes The Pegasus: The public room was virtually empty save for the ferocious flies. Strewn about the earthen floor and lit by a ring of dying oil lamps suspended from the stained ceiling were wooden tables and benches, some overturned presumably in the diners’ haste to leave, understandable given the smells that confronted me. I figured they must have supped last night on rotten fish and rancid mutton washed down with stale henket. Adding to the foulness were the tang of putrefying garbage from the kitchen and the stench of human waste from the latrine.
Upstairs Miriam would have seen that the rooms are minimally furnished with a cot, chamber pot, and candle-holder. (The traveler has to supply his own candles.) But he could count on the inn for a restaurant, livery stable, and cadre of prostitutes. And every town has a public bath where, in his long leisurely hours, he might enjoy its gymnasium, concerts, art exhibits, lectures, or simply the company of other bathers. But watch out! The ones who run these inns are notorious for preying on travelers. And in THE DEADLIEST HATE, The Pegasus (see my blog of December 9, 2014) becomes the setting for murder.
You will not get a glimpse into The Flying Eagle until THE DEADLIEST FEVER, the fourth Miriam bat Isaac mystery, is released. For now, I will tell you only that the food there is worse, much worse, than at The Pegasus.