by Aya Knight
“And who might you be, handsome?” She winked flirtatiously.
Kale took a step back, overwhelmed and uncomfortable by her presence. In an attempt to help Kale, Thomas stepped into the conversation, explaining to Theresa that Kale was on a short break from his job and needed to leave in order to have the time to explore the town. Kale took the opportunity to politely bid farewell to Phyllis and her daughter. He wanted to quickly leave the awkward situation behind him.
Suddenly, as if a brilliant idea sparked within her mind, Theresa’s eyes lit up. “I’ll show him around! I’ve lived here my entire life and know every nook and cranny.”
Kale shot a glance toward Thomas for assistance. The old sorcerer sighed, shrugging as if to tell Kale that he was now on his own. By the look on Theresa’s face, there was going to be no discouraging her from what she wanted. She didn’t bother to wait for a response as her arm slid around Kale’s bicep.
“What are you doing?” Kale questioned, confused by her gestures.
“My name is Theresa Vascallar and I’ll be your guide today, handsome. Let’s get going.” She tugged him toward a narrow street to the right.
Kale frowned at the thought of having Theresa along for what would have been a relaxing stroll. However, he knew better than to upset the daughter of the woman who was paying Thomas.
They eventually came to a halt in front of the tallest building in town. Up until now, Kale had only seen its peak towering above the rooftops. The building was solid, made of grey stone and accented with large windows trimmed in white. The double cherry wood doors were only approachable by climbing a set of six steep steps bordered with square trimmed bushes.
“This is where the town Lord lives. If you plan to remain here in Braxle, you’ll need to know where it is. Only Lord Zalimond has the authority to answer requests from the townsfolk.” She leaned in close to Kale’s ear as she spoke softly, “I don’t think his wife favors me very much.”
I can’t imagine why, Kale thought as he glanced toward her low-cut bodice.
“I’ve heard the lord has a secret room beneath his home where he keeps his valuables.” She continued to speak in a low tone. “I would love to get a closer look one day…” Her voice trailed off and Kale could see the look of excitement in her eyes at the thought of sneaking away with his wealth. “Anyway,” she shook her head, tightening her grip on his arm, “let’s keep moving. I’ve already said more than I should to a man I barely know. It’d be wise to keep that information between us.”
Kale nodded, not wanting to cause any problems. They continued to walk around different sections of the town as she explained each area in brief detail. Finally, they came to a building where Kale noticed a great deal of commotion.
“What is this place?” Kale questioned, pointing toward the structure.
“That? It’s the tavern; haven’t you ever been in one for a drink?” She paused a moment to think. “I believe I understand. You’ve probably assumed the inn also serves as our town tavern. I’ve heard from travelers that most inns serve the purpose of both. I guess we, here in Braxle, do things differently. I couldn’t ever imagine Mortimer converting his inn to such a place.” She gestured toward the Tavern.
Kale shook his head, still unsure of what she meant. He had perfectly fine juice and water from Mortimer at the inn each night. He could only assume whatever drinks the tavern offered must be spectacular to draw in such a crowd.
“Hello, Theresa.” A man walked by and tipped his hat to greet her. “Care to join me?”
His words triggered Kale to remember that he was supposed to be back at the blacksmith’s ages ago. “Oh, no—I’m late! I’ve got to go, Theresa.” He knew Galin was going to give him an earful and, hopefully, would allow him to keep his job. “I’m sorry, I really do appreciate all you’ve done, but I need to get back to work or Galin will have my head.”
Theresa smiled, “I understand.” She pressed closer to his body, ignoring the man who stood impatiently in front of the tavern.
Kale looked away, embarrassed by the scene she was making.
“I’d like to see you again,” she continued. “You know, I’ve noticed you in town before today. But, I know you haven’t noticed me.” Her lips pouted as she traced a finger against his chest.
Kale shifted his feet in discomfort. He gently gripped her hand, removing it from his body.
“Playing hard to get?” Her lips curled upward in a sly smile. Theresa was used to men flocking toward her and wasn’t about to accept rejection so easily. “Meet me tonight at the tavern—I’m not accepting no for an answer. I’ll be waiting.”
Kale sighed, irritated by her persistence; yet despite his distaste for the woman, he was curious about this tavern she spoke of.
“Fine. I suppose I’ll come—but only for one drink, then I’m returning to the inn.”
“Great!” Her eyes twinkled with satisfaction. “Meet me here after you’ve eaten, and bathed.”
Kale did smell foul and his clothing was damp with sweat. He hadn’t washed in nearly three days; but that was the least of his worries. At that moment he needed to return to Galin—and fast.
Chapter 10: You Cannot Run
“What could’ve possibly taken you so long? This is a town, not a bloody kingdom. I’m deducting half of your day’s pay.”
“What? Why?” Kale threw his arms up in frustration. “I’m sorry I was late, but we don’t even have any orders due.”
“Come here, kid.” Galin motioned Kale over to where he stood. “Look into these eyes. Does it look like I care? Work, or no work, if I’m payin’ you I expect you to be here—end of discussion.” He angrily held a blade against the grinder as he sharpened the point.
Kale spent the remainder of the day working extra hard to reconcile for his careless behavior. He knew losing his job at this point would be a terrible burden on Thomas—even with the miniscule amount of coins he had saved.
Eventually, after the sun set behind the horizon, Galin informed Kale they had completed all the necessary tasks for the day and he was free to leave.
“Here’s your pay.” Galin placed half of Kale’s usual earnings into his palm. “Now, go—and be here early tomorrow morning. There’s a wealthy traveler in town and he’s in need of some custom weaponry and armor. We’ve got a lot of work ahead of us.”
Kale nodded, disappointed with his pay, yet thankful he still had his job.
The walk home was peaceful as usual, until the moment he approached the inn. Laughter rang out from the usually quiet dining area as he walked through the wooden door. Kale immediately took note of a tall man standing near a group of peers who appeared to be of wealth. The stranger wore quality, tailored clothing, and a short, black velvet cape hung around his neck on a golden chain.
This must be the person Galin spoke of, Kale presumed.
“Didn’t I teach you it is rude to stare at others?”
Kale nearly jumped as he finally noticed Thomas who sat at a nearby corner table. Within minutes of Kale sitting down to rest, Mortimer walked briskly by, waving cheerfully as always. It was obvious he was very busy due to the new crowd. Kale smiled at the thought of more revenue coming in for Mortimer; he had grown quite fond of the old man.
As they patiently waited for their meal, Thomas intertwined his fingers, resting his bearded chin atop wrinkled knuckles. “How did everything go with Theresa?”
Kale grunted and could tell Thomas held back his laughter. “Nothing too exciting—I’m sorry to disappoint.” He rolled his eyes. “She did show me around, though, which actually turned out to be quite helpful. Well—aside from her odd behavior of constantly touching me. Is that also a human custom? I didn’t like it—at least not coming from her.”
Thomas could no longer contain his laughter. “No, dear boy, that usually occurs when a wo
man fancies you. It would seem in her eyes, you are quite the catch.” He winked as if to mock Kale.
“Well, I have no interest in a human like her; although, she did invite me to meet her at the tavern tonight.”
“Oh? Are you planning to attend?” Thomas asked curiously.
“I think so. I’m quite intrigued by such a place. From the words she spoke, the place sounds quite captivating.”
Their conversation came to an end as Mortimer approached the table with two plates of food. “I’m sorry about the wait. As you can see, we have new visitors who will be staying here for about a week. From what I gather, they have heard of Galin’s exceptional ability to forge a blade. These gentlemen will be purchasing a significant amount of weaponry—although I’m sure you’ve already heard, Kale.”
“He looks full of himself, standing there with his fancy clothing as though he were a lord.” Kale blurted out.
Thomas quickly reached out, placing a finger to Kale’s mouth.
Mortimer leaned in, softly whispering, “He’s actually a very nice gentleman, Kale; please treat him respectfully while he is here. I’ve heard he is the leader of a noble group of warriors who have traveled very far. Well—that’s what I’ve gathered through eavesdropping.” He glanced around cautiously. “I’d better not meddle. As I’ve said before, I usually prefer to stay out of other’s business—it’s safer that way.” Mortimer then glanced toward the floor as if he completely lost his thought process. “My, my, look at this floor. It’s filthy! I must tidy up this place if I care to keep business coming.” He stood up, leaving the table without another word.
Once they were alone, Thomas focused his attention onto Kale again. He felt safe enough to speak while the loud conversation flooded the room. “Be cautious tonight, Kale. You are still adapting to life as a hu—” Despite the noise, he still did not feel comfortable enough to continue on. “Well, you know what I am trying to say. Please don’t draw attention to yourself.” He took a sip of water. “You’ll also want to remain alert when around Theresa. I have heard a great deal about her from Phyllis; she’s quite the promiscuous one. Apparently, she also has a very quick sleight of hand.”
“You worry too much, Thomas. I’m not about to be fooled by some woman. Besides, I need a change from the walls of this inn; it’s all I’ve seen every night since we’ve come to this town.”
After dinner, Kale made his way to the bathing tub, using the remaining water to scrub himself clean of any unpleasant scents with a washing cloth. It was surprisingly warm which suggested someone had recently used the tub. After ensuring his body was clear of black ash, Kale pulled a linen towel around his body to dry himself.
“Pardon me; I assumed the bathing area was vacant.” The traveler in the black velvet cloak startled Kale as he spoke. “I’ll return later,” The man eyed the dirty bath water, “once the innkeeper has refilled the tub.”
“Wait a moment.” Kale spoke as the man turned to leave. “Why are you in need of such a large order of custom crafted weaponry? Is there a war going on nearby?” Though his methods of questioning were blunt, if something big was happening close to town—he wanted to know.
The man paused, turning to read Kale’s eyes. After a moment of silence, it seemed he felt comfortable enough to confide information. “My men and I are on a personal mission to ensure that a very cruel person who has inflicted great wrongdoings across the land will meet the wrath of our steel. Please do not pry any further as this is all I shall tell you.”
Kale rubbed his cheek, respecting the man’s wishes. “Can you at least tell me your name then? I’m Kale—Kale Firehart.”
“I suppose, but I shall not reveal my family name to someone I am unfamiliar with. My name is Alden. It is a pleasure to meet you, Kale Firehart.” He tipped forward a black velvet Robin Hood cap which was accented with a slender white quill.
Alden hadn’t been nearly as bad as Kale first assumed. In fact, he seemed admirable with his cause, though vague in detail. It seemed all too familiar to Kale’s own journey.
Kale knew there was no time to dwell upon the new travelers. Time was passing and he knew that Theresa, as irritating as she was, had most likely been awaiting his arrival for quite some time. He shook off his clothing to remove all ash, before getting dressed. Kale hoped the darkness of night would conceal the sweat stains which he had yet to wash. He yawned sleepily. The sooner he fulfilled his curiosity of the tavern, the sooner he would be able to rest on his soft bed.
The gentle night breeze felt refreshing as it sifted through his dampened hair. He approached the wooden sign of the tavern, glancing up to read the engraved words: The Rusty Sword. Kale found the title to be odd considering Theresa had earlier spoke of it being a place to converse and drink.
Upon opening the thick door, he was immediately overwhelmed by the number of people and level of noise. His first time in such an environment, it caused him to feel incredibly uncomfortable. The large room was much warmer than outside, and the air proved stuffy with the strong scent of liquor—something Kale knew nothing of until this point.
Suddenly, he felt an arm slip around his shoulders. “Hello, there.” A woman wearing a black bodice tied far too tightly for her waistline stood beside him. “You sure are a cute one. I believe I’ve seen you around town before. You interested in having a little fun tonight?” She winked; lifting her long black skirt as she flirtatiously wiggled her bare leg in front of him. As she continued to speak, Kale cringed—her breath smelt horribly rancid. “Come spend the night with me, it’ll only cost you ten copper pieces. I promise to make it worth your while.”
What in Pan’s name is she talking about? Kale thought. He casually eased his way in the opposite direction.
“He’s accounted for tonight,” Theresa spoke.
Kale found himself surprisingly grateful to see her.
“Go find someone else to dig your claws into.” She gestured the woman to leave.
Kale couldn’t help but look toward the woman’s hands, ensuring that the claw comment was indeed a human form of expression.
“I’m glad you came.” Theresa smiled, taking him by the hand and guiding his body toward a nearby long table.
As they walked past many individuals, Kale could’ve sworn he saw Galin out of the corner of his eye. Before he could confirm his assumptions, Theresa firmly pressed down upon his shoulders, forcing him to sit.
“Buy me a drink?” Theresa asked as she batted her long eyelashes.
Kale sighed, reaching into his brown pouch for coins. “Fine.”
Theresa whistled; raising her hand in the air until a young woman wearing a white bonnet arrived.
“Two ales, wench—on him.” She pointed to Kale, who smiled uncomfortably.
The bar wench nodded, leaving quickly to get their drinks.
“You know, Kale, I still can’t get over the fact you’ve never been in a tavern before. For such a handsome man,” she pressed herself against him, “you sure do come off as odd, yet somewhat intriguing.”
Kale could feel her hand caressing his thigh which caused him to flinch, scooting slightly away from where she sat.
“You’re shy—how sweet.” She laughed obliviously.
By this time, the wench arrived with two large mugs filled with a yellowed liquid that foamed at the top.
“What in Pan’s name is this?” Kale wrinkled his nose as he lifted the mug to his upper lip, taking in a deep whiff.
“You really are—different, Kale. It’s safe, I promise.” Theresa took a gulp of her own ale. “You see?”
His lips cautiously met the rim as he allowed a small sip of the cold liquid to enter his mouth. The taste was bitter, yet he couldn’t help himself from wanting to drink more. As he finished the first mug, a warm sensation moved throughout his body—it felt good. As if on cue, the b
ar wench returned with another pair of full mugs which Kale immediately began to drink. He soon felt as though he was floating atop a cloud; glancing around the room with a smile upon his face. As he panned the room, Kale caught a glimpse of the man who he assumed was Galin, and to his surprise—it definitely was. He could recognize Galin’s large stature anywhere. Kale took notice as Galin hung his head low; his facial expression appeared distraught, as if his heart was in turmoil. Kale continued to stare—he couldn’t help but wonder if he should approach the blacksmith to say hello. Maybe outside of work, Galin wouldn’t be so crude.
“Drink up!” Theresa’s voice broke through his thoughts. “Don’t bother with him,” she continued, noticing Kale’s attention to Galin. “I am aware that you work with him, but he is a very strange man—even more so than you!” She laughed. “He hasn’t lived in Braxle for much longer than you, yet in all of his time here, he has barely spoken to anyone. It’s as if in his mind, none of us exist. He works all day, and then comes to the tavern every night to drown himself with ale. I’ve never even seen him take notice of a single woman in town, and I’m certain he has no wife—something is just not right with that one.”
Kale nodded, knowing that Galin would likely desire to be left alone—especially after their earlier tension. Yet, for some reason he could not shake the feeling of sympathy for Galin. Kale’s mind began to drift as he took another large gulp from his mug. He soon had to squint to see clearly.
Theresa leaned toward him, softly breathing in his ear, “You want to go someplace quieter?” She playfully bit at her bottom lip.
The room now felt as though it was constantly in motion as he released a loud obnoxious burp. “You’re not my type,” he bluntly spoke, unable to watch his slurred words. “You human women haf weird headsch—and thosch tings on your chescht schare me, it’sch like you’re a part of the cow family.” He burst into maniacal laughter, banging his fist upon the table.