Positioned precariously against the sheer cliffside was the lone tavern in the town. Only a miniscule gap existed between the walls of the tavern a precipitous drop to death. A large wooden winch sat next to it to bring up fresh fish and saltwater from the beach below. A man in a brown tunic sat on a stool next to the winch and sipped at his mug. An uninviting look crossed his face.
“Morning,” the man gruffly greeted.
“Good morning,” Gilles replied. “Anywhere I can tie my horse?”
The man blew one of his nostrils at the ground. “Nope. But if you figure something out, I won’t stop you.”
Gilles frowned slightly but quickly smiled again. “If you don’t mind.”
Valentin’s uncle probed his hands along the rough rocky surface of the inn to no avail. His uncle shrugged. “Let’s just check on the other side of the gate, Valentin. I don’t quite trust that shopkeeper.”
The boy and his uncle began to depart from the tavern before a woman came sprinting out of the building. She wore a similarly plain tunic to the man on the stool with a leather apron covered in deep grease stains. She looked at the attire of the two and seemed even more exasperated.
“Wait!” The woman called out. “Sirs, please, there is no need to be so hasty. Guetton here will watch your horse while you are inside, for a humble fee. I can assure you that the other side of the wall will provide you with no solution to the issue you face on this side.”
Gilles considered the proposition for a moment and glanced at his nephew who he had already asked multiple times to sacrifice on this short trip.
“Fine,” he responded, leading his horse to Guetton. He handed the reins and three copper coins with bulls etched on them to the man. “Provide food and water for her as well. If the horse is not in the exact condition and location where I left it, I will be throwing you and your employer off the cliff.”
“Just what I’d expect from your type,” spat the man. However a glare from the proprietress made the man change his answer to, “Yes, masters.”
The inside of the tavern was quite plain but busy considering the time of day. Groups of men sipped at ale and supped on bread and fish while lounging on straw stuffed-cushions on the ground. On the other end of a doorway at the back of the tavern, the sound of cooking utensils clanked against pots and pans.
Gilles inspected the room and looked for a seat that would give him a view of Marigold through the open threshold. A group of three occupied the most convenient space for Gilles to achieve his goals. The people drank ale from large mugs while chatting at a fairly loud volume. One dispiritedly rolled dice in a small cup while the others spoke to him.
“I’ve tried to tell you, Jules. Those fishermen cheat. Especially Old Peche. You were doomed from the moment that you stepped foot on their territory. Now look at you,” the woman of the trio admonished.
“Honestly,” agreed the other man. He shook his head vigorously.
Jules sighed and rattled the dice some more. “I…underestimated them a little.”
“A little? Jules, a few bulls is a little. You’re down an entire eagle. Where are you going to find that before they show up? You know those guys will take you out in the bay, kill you, and dump your corpse in the water for the sea beasts to eat,” the woman warned with a grave expression.
“I know but-”
“Excuse me, fine folk, but I would like to have your seats so I can watch my horse.” Gilles decided to interject in the conversation.
“Fuck off,” said one of the men shaking his mug at Gilles with an exaggerated swing of his arm, little droplets shaking out of his mouth and the mug.
“I didn’t expect you to do it for free,” Gilles responded warmly, maintaining his composure in the face of the disrespect. “I will pay for your next round if you let me and the boy sit here.”
All three, surprised to be treated with further cordiality, looked at each other with the dumb expressions of those with alcohol addled minds.
“Hm. I don’t want to move, but you can join us and take this seat.” The woman in the spot Gilles wanted scooted to the side and allowed Gilles to take the seat he wanted.
“Many thanks.” Gilles looked at the downtrodden man that now sat across from him. “A word of advice to you. If there are men that are potentially after you, never sit with your back to the door they are likely to come through.”
While the trio sat in contemplation of how loud they were truly being, the proprietress had approached the group.
“How many I serve you gentlemen?” The proprietress asked with a short bow. “As it is early in the day, we do have our full assortment of meals ready for order. We have around thirty savory pies in our oven that will be finished within the quarter hour if it pleases you.”
“Thank you, proprietress, I will take four of them and let you decide the fillings. We are, unfortunately, in a hurry,” Gilles replied gratefully. “I was wondering if you’d sell us some smoked fish as well. Two days’ worth.”
“Of course, sir,” beamed the proprietress.
“And one more round on this man,” one of the trio blurted.
“Indeed, I did promise that in exchange for sitting here,” Gilles agreed with a genteel tone and annoyed eyes.
“You would do better than to be siting with Jules, Jillian, and Herv.” The proprietress replied judgmentally before she disappeared back behind the doorway and more sounds could be heard from the other side.
“So what brings such genteel folk to the gate this time of year? As you can see, the weather is shit and nothing grows here,” Jillian asked.
“Nothing to do either. And the things you can do have you wind up like Jules,” Herv chimed in.
Their cursed friend silently sat. After Gilles had given his advice, Jules had constantly been looking over his shoulder with a paranoid look on his face. He muttered something to himself but Valentin couldn’t make it out.
“Use your imaginations,” Gilles replied, denying them any answers. “Or was your free drinks insufficient to keep your noses away from my business?”
“What poor company you make,” replied Jillian with a click of her tongue, dissatisfied with the answer provided.
The temperature in the group cooled so much that the original trio no longer talked amongst themselves. Jules silently trembled off to the side. Without conversation, the doomed man appeared to have nothing else to think about but his fateful encounter with the fishermen. Valentin wondered why Jules didn’t just run away to another town. It was not as though this place was all that nice, from what he had seen to this point.
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Finally, the proprietress returned with a couple sacks in one hand and three full mugs in the other. Gilles took a quick peek inside each bag while the trio quickly downed their drinks, leaving only a bit of residue inside.
“Thank you that will be all I will need. How much do I owe you?” Gilles requested and reached for his coin purse.
“Eight bulls should be sufficient to cover everything. I even included a couple fresh loaves of bread with the fish.”
Gilles handed ten coins to the proprietress, “For your courtesy.”
The proprietress weightlessly walked off to address other patrons. Valentin eyed the food sack hungrily, but his uncle cruelly kept it on the other side of him.
Seeing his nephew’s expression, Gilles tossed Valentin one of the loaves. The warm dough heated Valentin’s hands and he began to aggressively scarf down the food.
“We’ll eat properly once we leave town,” Gilles said, pocketing his coin purse and rising to his feet. He then reached down and picked Valentin up.
As the two made their way from the tavern, sounds of another approaching group could be heard outside. Guetton appeared to say something to the approaching people from outside. Gilles sipped the broth with one hand and hovered his other hand over his blade. Hands belonging to some unseen body shoved Marigold out of their way and Gilles’ free fingers flexed angrily. The three that had sat with the pair exchanged nervous looks.
Five people walked into the tavern. Two stayed by the doors while the other three pressed past the uncle-nephew duo and stood before the quivered Jules. They wore stained leather aprons and leather hats. Their skin had the weathered appearance of people that toiled under the brutal light of Ortus. Their exposed arms revealed tattoos in the old Ampoli style depicting various sea and air beasts. Each of them held a harpoon in one hand and the unavoidable salty reek of the sea permeated the room.
The man in the middle had the kindly face of a grandfather but the arms of a baggare practitioner. He scratched at his white beard with his free hand and looked over the occupants of the room before resting his eyes on Jules.
“There’s the young man that owes me an eagle. How’s your hunt going, boy?” Peche asked with threatening calm.
“P-Peche,” stammered Jules, a cold sweat immediately forming on the man’s forehead. “What brings you up here so early?”
“Too foggy down the cliff to do anything so we retired for the day,” one of the other fisherfolk responded and brandished their harpoon threateningly. They smiled at Jules’ obvious discomfort with the turn of events.
“Should I take what I see before me as you giving up on repaying us? I will give you credit for not running away, it makes things messier,” Peche complimented, leaning down towards the piteous Jules.
Valentin wondered how such a kind face could produce such cruel words. The boy glanced at his uncle who watched the scene impassively. Gilles kept pulling Valentin forwards until they left the doorway and reached Marigold. Gilles began to add their newly purchased wares to the horse’s saddlebags while Valentin continued to observe the scene unfolding inside.
“Wait,” Jules said, holding his hand out to the three. “You’re going to do this in front of all these people?” He gestured towards the men in the corner wearing gambesons near the wall of the tavern. Their spears leaned up against the wall and they watched the scene unfolding before them with only a passing interest.
“This matter doesn’t concern the honorable men of d’Gauval.” Peche bowed to the drinking guards who lifted their mugs in recognition. “Please don’t be difficult, Jules, it lowers my estimation of you.”
Tears formed on the corners of Jules’ eyes as he stood to face the fisherman. Valentin felt for the man and glanced at his uncle once again. This time, the boy’s uncle recognized that he was being watched by his nephew. The retired warrior sighed.
“Wait,” Gilles interjected, walking back into the tavern. “What’s the debt amount?”
“One silver eagle,” Peche announced. “This boy didn’t know when to quit and racked up quite the debt. They say the mark of the greatest fools is not knowing when they are beat.”
Gilles revealed a gleaming coin of silver from his purse. “I have one right here. Is that all it takes for this affair to end? Your odor and your actions are equally as detrimental to the wonderful owner of this place.”
Brief whispers were shared not only among the three fisherfolk standing before Gilles but also with every other spectator in the tavern. Valentin started to realize how important a coin he had seen all his life was. A man was about to die without it. A life in exchange for a coin that the boy found mostly trivial.
“Let me inspect that coin,” ordered Peche. “For all I know, it’s a cheap fake.” His posse nodded in agreement.
“Don’t insult me,” Gilles responded and met eyes with the proprietress that was uneasily watching from the doorway to her kitchen. “Proprietress, check this coin and tell the room if it is real or not.”
The woman scurried across the silent room towards the confrontation. Gilles graciously handed her the coin and she scrutinized it closely. She ran her fingers over the eagle minted onto the metal. Finally, she bit into the coin.
She returned the coin to Gilles. “It’s real,” she said to Peche but loud enough for the entire room to hear.
“There you have it,” Gilles announced. “One silver eagle for this fool’s debt.”
“I’m dissatisfied,” Peche remarked, taking the coin from Gilles’ hand. “He owes interest as well.” The fisherfolk accompanying him grinned widely and nodded in agreement.
Gilles pinched the bridge of his nose with one hand. “And how much is this interest?”
Peche thought for a moment before replying. “Another silver eagle.”
“Such blind greed,” Gilles lamented sarcastically. “I am dissatisfied too. One of you five shoved my horse outside and I would like you to pay me one silver eagle in compensation. She is of fickle heart and I don’t think I could console her properly unless I receive proper recompense.”
A fisherman next to Peche laughed. “You rich folk are all the same. You think you are always above it all. What would you do about it anyways? Peche, you should raise the interest to two eagles for arrogance.”
Gilles called out. “Guetton! What did I say I would do if anything happened to my Marigold?”
The man on the stool stuck his head through the doorway, wide-eyed. He quickly got up and made a show to Gilles of him giving affection to the horse. The proprietress quickly retreated to her kitchen.
“You remember,” Gilles complimented and smiled.
“What are you-” The fisherman tried to say before Gilles crashed his fist into the man’s face at high speed. Sparks danced off Valentin’s uncle’s arm. A squelching crack came from a broken nose and loosened teeth that clattered into the stone. He reached for his ruinous mouth, almost in an attempt to see if it was truly still there, and tried to scramble across the floor away from his assailant.
Gilles was not so forgiving. A boot came crashing down on the man’s back and he grunted in pain.
“What will I do about it indeed?” Gilles thoughtfully replied. He stomped on the man one more time, seemingly to vent his frustration about the day. The other fisherfolk hadn’t attempted to intervene. The violence seemed to have been well beyond the realm of their expectation and they had no idea how to manage a favored foe. The guards who were disinterested in the original confrontation watched closely to the events before them. One reached for their spear.
Gilles began dragging the man towards the doorway and towards the winch. Guetton moved out of the way with the horse and the fisherman found himself dangling helplessly over the fogbank.
“Wait! We will waive the interest. We’re even,” Peche rushed out to stop the ongoing assault. “Let’s just go back in and resolve things like civilized people.”
“I’m dissatisfied,” Gilles replied with a frown. “You thought that you could play me. Do you just go around provoking strangers without any consideration towards their ability? How careless.”
The guards got up from their seats and began to walk towards the action outside. Their body language had yet to indicate that they had chosen a side in this new development. The three that remained around Valentin were speechless that things no longer involved them.
“Please sir,” Peche pleaded, his head hung as low as it could while still maintaining his meager pride. “We are sorry that we disturbed your horse and your meal during the collection of our debt. You have made your point clear, we were in the wrong. Now please forgive my comrade.”
“Wise,” Gilles tossed the limp but breathing body at Peche. “Get out of my sight.”
The fisherfolk made a hurried exit from the tavern with their wounded friend. The guards, seeing that the situation had been resolved, turned around and returned to their cushions and their drink. Gilles, too, returned to his cushion amidst the whispers and looks that followed him there. He sopped his bread in the bowl and ate the broth drenched bread.
“That was incredible!” Herv exclaimed to their returned hero. “I’ve never seen someone throw such a mighty punch.”
Jules bowed before his savior, a look of gratitude shimmering in his teary eyes. “Thank you so much, I don’t know what I can do to thank you.”
Gilles got up and towered over the prostrated man. “I didn’t do it for you. They were disturbing me. If I were to speak truthfully, I think they were more than justified in taking you. If I were you, I would go and try to offer peace to Peche as soon as you can.”
“I’m not sure if I can do that,” Jules meekly replied.
“Then you should leave town. There is no way that this is resolved for you. In fact, I have made things significantly worse for you depending on Peche’s temperament.” Gilles advised and departed from the tavern.
Outside, Guetton was still making a show of doting on the horse. He rubbed just above Marigold’s muzzle and whispered sweet words to it.
Gilles took the reins. “Thank you.”
Guetton stiffened. “It was my pleasure, sirs. Have a safe trip.”