The first frost of the year fell overnight. As the sun rose and began to melt the ice, few of the villagers in Starstone rose with it. Tables and chairs lay strewn around the fighting circle near the barracks. Several of the younger men hadn’t made it home and slept where they fell. Manuel was one of those men.
He groggily opened his eyes and surveyed the area. He’d managed to pass out in a fairly respectable position, actually sitting in a chair. A well worn blue and white quilt stretched across his lap, protecting him from the frigid damp the others would soon be waking up to. That woman… Olena always looks out for me. He smiled and shook his head.
Across the yard, Oskar was beginning to stir as well. He’d been so close to the barracks, yet failed to make it in the doorway. Manuel chuckled as he remembered last night. Drunk fool tried to open the door, hit the frame and slid down to the ground. I guess he passed out right there.
With a yawn, Manuel slowly rose to his feet. Immediately, his stomach rebelled against that decision and he retched to the side, narrowly avoiding soiling the blanket he’d been entrusted with. After a few moments, and with great effort, he managed to stand again without losing the rest of his stomach. Carefully, he folded the blanket and threw it over his shoulder. With a quick wave to the now-conscious but equally nauseous Oskar, Manuel began the slow trek to Olena’s inn.
Inside, Olena was in rare form. Guess I’m not the only one struggling this morning. As Olena darted around the room serving villagers in various states of dishevelment, he spied an open seat near the far wall. Sat around a table were Gunnar, Tobias, and Enzo, each with their heads in their hands. He pulled up a seat next to Enzo and joined the group.
“You guys look rough,” Manuel said, successfully hiding his own hangover. “Can’t handle your drinks anymore?”
“Don’t… wanna talk about it…” replied Enzo, looking pale as a ghost. He was clearly moments away from tossing his stomach as well. Olena heard Manuel join the group and headed over.
“Honestly, you all are supposed to be respected members of the village,” she said with a sigh. “Can any of you stomach a meal or will it just be my hangover cure?”
Enzo turned to her and stared, pleading.
“Okay, one hangover cure. Anyone else?” Olena continued.
“Coffee, please. And whatever you have on hand that isn’t too heavy to eat,” said Gunnar.
“Make that two,” chimed Tobias. The old man was bouncing back faster than the rest and seemed to be rapidly returning to his usual self. Olena turned and smiled warmly at Manuel.
“Just coffee,” he responded, handing her back the blanket. “Thanks, you really saved me last night. Shoulda seen how Oskar ended up.”
“Oh, I saw,” Olena snickered, as she tossed her hair over her shoulder and headed back to the kitchen. “It’ll be out in a little bit.”
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“How bad is he?” asked Gunnar. “Am I going to have to cover for that idiot today?”
“He was just waking up when I got up,” said Manuel. “Gonna be stiff as a board today, though, with how he slept. Don’t go too hard on him.” Gunnar grunted in reply.
Their food arrived shortly after, and the group ate in companionable silence. As usual, Olena’s cooking was stellar, turning simple hashbrowns and eggs into something the men savored. She set a questionable looking green drink in front of Enzo and, after some initial trepidation, he took a sip. The young man's face scrunched up and his lips puckered, but some of the color started to return to his face.
“Ugh… this is awful…” he managed to complain before catching a glare from Tobias.
“Don’t drink so much next time then!” the old man barked, clearly choosing to ignore his own condition this morning. “Besides, you’re in luck. Looks like Olena talked Cornelia into teaching her how to make an actual hangover cure.”
Enzo looked at the drink skeptically.
“It’s going to be thick and terrible, but when you finish it, your body will have processed the poison from last night,” explained Tobias. “You’ll be fit enough to work a full shift in an hour!”
“Delightful,” groaned Enzo as he forced down another sip.
“Speaking of, we need to decide how this part-time relationship is going to work out,” said Gunnar. The coffee and meal had improved his mood considerably.
I take it back, these old guys really can bounce back. Glad the first frost fell last night, it's cold enough the herd won’t even want to leave the barn. Easy recovery day for me!
Tobias looked over at his young apprentice. “Have you figured out what type of weapon you want to wield?”
“A warhammer,” replied Enzo. The mug in front of him was half empty now and he seemed to finally have his stomach under control. “We trained a bit with it yesterday, and I like how it feels.”
Gunnar nodded. “I think it's a good idea as well. No sense in swinging a hammer at the forge all day then spending the next unlearning it so he can swing a sword properly.”
Tobias shrugged. “Easy enough, though I haven’t forged one in years. We’ll use some of that iron we picked up the other day to work out the size and shape you want to use.”
“How long do you think it’ll take to make?” asked Gunnar.
“Can probably have it done this afternoon,” Tobias replied.
“Great,” said Gunnar, turning to Enzo. “Then you’ll train with me in the mornings and work with the old man after lunch.”
Enzo chugged the rest of the thick green drink and set it back on the table. “Alright then. How much is the pay?”
Both older men looked at each other for a moment before laughing heartily.
“Boy, when you start earning your keep, you can ask about pay,” Tobias said when they’d finally caught their breaths. “Gunnar’s already letting you live in the barracks and I’m teaching you to smith and letting you keep a weapon. Way I see it, you’re in quite a bit of debt to us already.”
Enzo flopped back in the chair and groaned. Manuel stood with a wide smile on his face and clapped Enzo on the shoulder.
“Well, good luck with that one buddy!” he said, barely restraining his delight. “I’ve got my herd to tend to, see you someday!”
With that, Manuel left some coins on the counter to thank Olena and left the inn, whistling a cheerful tune as he made his way to the barn. Poor guy has no idea what he’s gotten himself into, they’re going to work him to death.