by Charles Dean
“What?! Again?!” Sean exclaimed. “Fine, fine. I give up.” He turned to his friend and threw his hands up in exasperation. “Give me the gold coins.”
Tamos grabbed the two weapons and chunked them under the counter as if they were worthless scrap. Eliza knew that he kept a large box there that he would fill up over the course of the day as customers sold him weapons and armor pieces. He would carry them into the back to be stripped apart and smelted down later after it filled up, but the average customer would never know that. For all appearances, he had just made it look like he had been adding them to a waste basket. He never took his eyes off the two young men as he pulled a coin pouch from his belt and counted out four gold coins which he plunked down with a heavy thud.
Sean scraped them off the counter and pocketed them as quickly as he could. “Well,” he said turning to his friend, “it was worth a shot.”
His friend just shrugged again as if he were apologizing for something that was out of his control. “What about the rest of them?” he asked.
“Hey,” Sean said, “I have some things to sell. You wanna take a look at them?” He pulled out two more axes, laid them down on the counter and looked up at Tamos expectantly.
“Get out!” Tamos bellowed, slamming his fist down on the counter. “Out of my shop! Now! Get out!”
“W-what?” Sean stammered. “Can he do that?” he asked, looking over at his friend.
“I said out!” Tamos shouted again. He reached underneath the counter, pulled out one of the axes that had just been sold to him, and waved it menacingly in Sean’s face. “Out!”
“I . . . I don’t . . .” Sean stammered.
Tamos began moving around the counter as if he were going to forcibly remove the man from his shop, and the two newcomers both backpedaling as quickly as they could toward the door. After a few unsteady steps, Sean backed into one of the armor racks, yelped in surprise, and nearly fell over himself as he turned and fled the shop with his friend as quickly as he could.”
“Darn kids,” Tamos grumbled under his breath as he made his way back around the counter. “Can’t even let a man run his shop in peace.” He threw the axe back into his box beneath the counter where it landed with a clamor and took a deep breath. The color hadn’t returned to his face yet, and it was still a dark shade of red that made him look like an overly-ripe, beaded tomato.
Eliza had seen him like this before, and she knew that it would be a while before he cooled back down. “Bye, Tamos!” she called cheerfully and threw up her hand to wave goodbye. “Let him know that I came by? Thanks!”
“What?” he barked angrily, turning towards her. He must not have even realized that she was still there because, when he realized who it was, he quickly replied in a more-even tone, “Oh. Sure, Eliza. Will do.”
Eliza slipped out the door, past the line of anxiously waiting newcomers, and back into the bright afternoon sunlight. She squinted against the glare for a moment before her eyes properly adjusted, and she took the moment to breath in a breath of fresh air. No matter how clean he kept it, Tomas’ shop always smelled like a strange combination of leather, oil, and metal, and the smell always seemed to cling to her clothes and fill her nose far longer than it should. I guess it could be worse, she mused. There was that time one of his apprentices left the hoods closed on the forge and the entire place filled with smoke. The entire town thought the shop was burning down and had turned out to try and save it, even though there was no real need. Almost every single building in the village was constructed entirely out of wood or thatch, and a single blaze had the potential to send the entire place up in flames. The entire shop smelled like soot and burnt ash for months after that. Eliza couldn’t help but smile at the memory of how embarrassed and furious Tamos had been when he found out what had happened. Needless to say, his apprentice didn’t make that same mistake again.
That was just expected. It was normal. Tamos taking pride in his shop and his work, young apprentices making mistakes, Tamos losing his temper over it, the village turning out to help someone when they were in need--those were all just part of what made this her home, what made it familiar to her. All of these newcomers, however, they made things off. Part of her was happy for the fact that the village was growing, that commerce had picked up, and everyone was making money, but there were just so many things about them that didn’t make sense. Nothing about the way they acted was normal.
What was that guy, Sean, thinking? He was practically spinning in circles and doing a dance trying to get Tamos to change his prices. If Tamos didn’t make a better offer the first time, why would he change it just because someone walked away and came back two seconds later? Do these people really think that running out of a building and coming back in is some kind of negotiating tactic? And why wouldn’t he just sell everything he had in one go? If he wants to sell a bunch of weapons, why was he holding out and trying to conduct multiple transactions? Why not just sell everything all at once at the price Tamos offered? Tamos clearly wasn’t going to budge and give up more gold. Was he trying to wear Tamos down by making him go crazy? I’ve seen traders go back and forth before over how much something was worth, but never like that. That was ridiculous. It just doesn’t make sense.
“That beer-bellied old man is just ridiculous,” someone complained in a loud voice.
Eliza looked up to find that the two men from inside were standing on the other side of the street. Sean seemed to be staring at the gold coins in his hand with an extremely dissatisfied look on his face.
“What type of world is this where someone can just up and throw you out of a shop?” he continued. “I still have more weapons to sell. What am I supposed to do now?”
“Well, I think there’s another blacksmith's shop somewhere else in the town. Maybe you can get a better deal there?” His friend was obviously amused by what had happened, but it sounded like he was still trying to be consoling at the same time.
“I imagine it’s just going to be more of the same,” Sean grumbled. “I had no idea I was signing up for something where shops would just outright refuse to buy from you and then kick you out. Do you think that it’s a permanent ban? Or do you think that I could go back sometime later and try again?”
“I really don’t have any idea. I’ve never heard of anything like this before, and I definitely haven’t experienced it. They advertised that Tiqpa was as realistic as you could get, and it seems to be living up to it. I mean, that that guy actually looked like he was annoyed. There at the end, I actually believed that he was going to come around the counter and kill us. Who could have predicted that happening?”
You kept talking in circles and repeatedly asked the same question over and over again. Who wouldn’t be annoyed? Eliza wondered. No one would have blamed him if he rattled them up after that little act they pulled inside the store. She made her way across the street as casually as possible, doing her best to listen in on the conversation. She knew that eavesdropping was wrong, but something told her that she might be able to learn more about these newcomers if she could just keep listening to these two.
“Too much is just too much. How are we ever going to figure out the mechanics of things if we just get thrown out every time we try to do something as simple as make a sale? Where did you find out that information, anyway?” Sean was clearly upset by being thrown out by Tamos and just wasn’t going to let it go.
“I heard some people talking around the bindstone last night. They were discussing the best ways to make money, so I figured I’d listen in and try and pick up some pointers,” he answered.
“So it was all just hearsay? You didn’t have any actual proof or anything? It was just speculation?”
His friend shrugged apologetically in response, something he seemed to be good at doing without providing any real answers. “We’re just going to have to figure it out as we go, I suppose. Maybe we should try going back some other time. Do you think that the time of day would make a difference?”
“Time of day?” Sean asked incredulously. “When has that ever made a difference?”
“Come on, man. Everyone knows that time of day can make a difference.”
“What? Are you serious? You actually believe that old rumor? That’s been around since the beginning of time, and it’s never affected anything. Remember when we tried testing it a few years ago? We spent two whole days at the same shop trying to find the best times to buy and sell. What a waste!”
“Well, what do we have here?” a deep voice asked from directly behind her.
Eliza practically jumped out of her skin at the sound of the voice. How did someone manage to sneak up on me so easily? She quickly spun around to find herself confronted with another one of the newcomers. He had greasy dark hair, a scraggly unkempt beard, and prominent eyebrows that looked like they might crawl away at any moment. Worst of all, he was only inches away from her, and she could smell his foul breath. The man had definitely spent some time at one of the bars, and the slightly-glazed look in his eyes instantly told her that he had been doing more than just playing cards while he was there.
“I . . . uhh . . .” Eliza stammered, unsure of how to respond. Did he catch me spying on their conversation? How am I supposed to respond without giving myself away?
“I’ll tell you what we have here,” he continued. “We have the most beautiful creature I’ve seen I logged in last night.”
Logged? Is he a shipping clerk? Or does he mean he has to keep a timecard? What type of business does he conduct that he can get drunk on the job?
“And my, my . . .” The man smiled, and a chill ran down Eliza’s spine. “You have such beautiful eyes when they get wide like that. They’re as beautiful as a doe’s. . .”
“Uhm . . . Thank you,” she said nervously. Something about this guy was definitely creeping her out. “I really should be going . . .”
“Didn’t I see you last night? Working at the bar?” he pressed, ignoring her attempt to politely disengage from the conversation.
She took a small step back and the man and turned to leave when he reached out and grabbed her around her arm, yanking her back. He pulled her right up against him and used his other hand to grab her behind her neck, forcibly holding her in position and preventing her from escaping.
“You really shouldn’t be rude,” the man growled in a low voice. “We’re just having a nice conversation here, and you want to turn your back on me? I know I saw you last night. I watched you while you were working, watched how you flirted with all the men. I saw how much you liked it, how much you enjoy your job.”
“Let go of me!” Eliza shrieked. She tried to break free of his grasp but he was too strong, and his fingers squeezed down into her flesh. “Get off!” she cried again and used her free hand to slap out at his face.
The man laughed at her feeble blow and sneered down at her maliciously. “Looks like you’re a feisty one, eh? Why don’t you just let me have a taste, eh?”
Eliza squeezed her eyes shut and screamed. She could feel the man’s dirty hands pawing at her, and it made her skin crawl.
Then she was floating through the air. She landed on her rear in an unceremonious plop, and her eyes snapped open just in time to see the man rocked backwards as a fist crashed across his jaw. The man staggered backward and a second punched cracked across his for a second time, causing blood to come gushing out from his nose. A third punch swung up into his chin from underneath, and the man’s head snapped back. Her assailant toppled over in a bloodied heap and he didn’t move again.
She stared on through wide eyes. Her entire body was shaking with fear and adrenaline, and she couldn’t even begin to think about what had almost happened. Thoughts and images tried to invade her conscious thoughts, and horrible what-if scenarios threatened to play out unwanted. She curled herself into a tight ball in the dirty street, squeezed her eyes shut again, and began to cry.
She felt a pair of hands tenderly grasp her shoulders, and she jerked away at the initial contact. She wanted to scream again, to cry out, but the wail died in her throat as she choked on her sobs.
“Eliza, it’s just me,” a strong voice said comfortingly. “You’re safe now.”
-----
It had been a long and busy night at the bar, and there was nothing Eliza wanted more than to get home and fall head-first into her own bed. She had spent the night running between tables and the bar and doing everything she could to keep up with the rate at which these newcomers seemed to consume food and drink, and she’d have sworn that there wasn’t a single spot below her knees that wasn’t aching with one dull pain or another. If she hadn’t known better, she would have also sworn that every single one of the newcomers possessed a bottomless pit of a stomach that no amount of sustenance would ever fill. She had seen more men consume more alcohol tonight than she ever would have thought possible, and far more than she knew was ever appropriate. The town guard--what few members of it were left--had stationed men both inside and outside the tavern early in the night, and they had been put to work several times throughout their watch dealing with drunk, unruly customers.
Now, she was going through the motions of her job in a haze of fuzzy thoughts. Her body was on autopilot as she moved amongst the mostly-empty tables, scraping up the last vestiges of a rowdy night and stacking empty mugs on a tray. The bar had emptied out for the most part in the last hour after the guards broke up a rather nasty fight. Several of the newcomers had gotten into an argument over a game of cards they had been playing, and weapons had been drawn. It had only taken seconds for the guards to intervene, but the ensuing fight seemed to take forever before it was quelled. The table that they had been sitting at had been overturned, food and mugs had been thrown across the room, and chairs had been scattered everywhere as other patrons scrambled to get out of the way of the ruckus. It had been the final straw on an onerous night, and the guards had decided that it was time to shut things down. Even Peter didn’t object when they began clearing the room, and he would have stood to lose a tidy sum of money if everyone hadn’t settled up with him before being ejected.
Eliza shook her head to clear it of the disturbing thoughts of the evening that kept plaguing her as she went about her work, but others surfaced almost immediately. Was anything ever going to change with the newcomers? Or was anything ever going to change with how they acted? No matter how much patience everyone showed with them or how they worked to accommodate them, they never acted grateful. If anything, they acted entitled--as if they expected everyone in the town to wait on them hand and foot and come running whenever called.
It was true that they had vitalized the town’s economy in a way that it had never seen before, but at what price? Everyone was paying a heavy toll for their presence and the newfound wealth that they seemed to endlessly generate. The smithies were working longer hours and keeping the forges going around the clock, and Peter had begun scheduling girls at the bar at all times of the day so that he wouldn’t ever miss out on any customers, but they both seemed to be downright irritable as a result. Tamos had always been rough around the edges, but even old man Peter was starting to wear down.
The problem was that no one ever really knew what to expect from the newcomers. Some of them were affable, friendly, and even polite sometimes--though that never seemed to last for long. They would appear out of nowhere with a confused look in their eyes, begin asking the same inane questions that had been asked by hundreds of others, and before long, they would act as indifferently to the townsfolk as all the others who had appeared before them. Others could be calm and friendly one minute then harsh and explosive the next--typically when they weren’t getting something they wanted. They didn’t seem to appreciate it when things weren’t going exactly their way. It was as if they were given some training course that taught them that they could bully their way through the merchants and townsfolk and that acting a fool over a few silver coins was going to get them whatever they wished.
Of course, there
was also something else to consider. She eyed the man out of the corner of her eye and had to force herself to look away so that she wouldn’t get caught staring. She suppressed a smile as she remembered how he had stood up for her in the market, how kind and concerned he had been. Ever since then, he crept into her thoughts more often than she actually wanted to admit. She just couldn’t get the image of him slugging that newcomer out of her head. She couldn’t forget the feeling of his arms around her as he picked her up off the ground. All the hours that he had spent working the forge for Tamos had made him stronger than she ever could have realized, and he had lifted her as if she were nothing.
Everything about him seemed to mesmerize her now, and she couldn’t believe that, despite growing up with him for her entire life, she had never seriously noticed him before now. I wonder what my chances are with him? I don’t think he’s courted any of the other girls yet . . . She cast a wary glance around the tavern and suspiciously eyed a few of the other girls who were working with her. A few of them were pretty enough, in a small-town sort-of-way, but none of them looked the part of the Harvest Queen at the moment with their dirty uniforms and serving trays filled with mugs of ale. But just because I haven’t heard any of the gossip yet doesn’t mean that he hasn’t tried . . . No, it’s a small town. Everyone knew about Alice and Nathaniel sneaking off for their little tryst in the hay the same night it happened . . .