Finally, I made it through the crowd of wellwishers who were generous with their blessings for Sara and myself. More than a few pushed bottles and coins into my hands. I was also told not to worry about the Body Watchers and the Charnel House, and sent on my way to see Sara. Awkwardly burdened, with both the gifts and well wishes, I continued towards Sara ’s tavern: Brook Gate Tavern.
Even before I entered the well maintained and oddly shaped tavern, tacked oddly on the side of the neighbouring warehouse. Even though its odd position and shape made the tavern a touch on the smaller side, it was a well-respected tavern, and part of the reason being was the wonderful smell of freshly baked bread they baked every morning. It took me a while to even get close to enter the tavern, as I didn ’t want someone to accidentally disrupt the awkward burden of gifts I carried in my arm.
A widower regular, a powerful-looking man with a slight belly who was in their mid-thirties and whose beige skin showed weather worn winkles of someone who had lived a hard life outside, and who often came for breakfast before going to do their job as a guard at one of the local warehouses stopped the flow of people for me.
As he followed me in, he shouted, ‘Saint Evaine’s blessings on Mistress Sara and Master Berwyn!’
The hubbub of many quiet conversations echoing around the plain box of a room quickly quietened down. Then, almost as one, the regulars and a few random travellers gave the popular response: ‘May Saint Evaine bless their union!’
A traveller from elsewhere gave a different and longer response, but I didn ’t quite hear what they said.
Having a sizeable portion of the people who had packed themselves tightly in the Brook Gate Tavern turn to look at me unnerved me even more than speaking to the crowd earlier. Most of those who had packed themselves in the bar bunched up together upon the benches along the long rectangular tables—which took over the majority of the ground floor—as they were eating their morning freshly baked bread, butter, and cheese. Yet more were sitting uncomfortably on the edge of the low stage. Even more were leaning against the walls. Though hidden from view by the wood panel partition, I wouldn ’t be surprised if a couple of people were perched on the stairs.
A weary woman who had aged into her forties, whom I was sure was the reason the widower guard frequented the tavern so often, with her warm pink skin and rosy cheeks which sagged just a little and wild tangle of brown curls came out from behind the bar and carefully took the most awkward bottles away from me with an ease that was shocking to how desperately I had been clinging hold on them between my muscular arms and my firm torso. She was wearing a well-used full-length bluish-grey dress, it hung loose and baggy from the weight she had lost since starting working in Sara ’s tavern.
She was Sara ’s aunt, Mirielda, and she gave me a wintry smile that chilled me even more than facing crowds of people, ‘ya better treat her right, lad. She be me only family left.’
‘I-I w-w-will,’ I managed to stammer out.
Her wintry smile brightened. ‘May Saint Evaine bless the two of ya on her feast day. Ya wanna rush off to the temple and get married today?’
Married? Already? I had known her for almost two years. Had been aware of her for since I had awoken from the awakening coma about ten months ago. Yet we had already slept together, okay it was only just last night. But was that not the norm for here? It was from the isle I had come from.
Though, on the isle, that was because of how drastically and deadly life had turned since our mother forests had been destroyed.
‘Oi, lover boy.’ I looked down at Mirielda, who had somehow moved away from in front of me.
The voice was wrong, too.
It took me a moment to realise it wasn ’t Mirielda, but Gomes.
What confused me was that unlike his normal slightly quiet voice with its hushed and measured tone, his voice had been loud and cheerful.
I looked towards the exquisite and brand new shiny round table that Gomes had brought for the bar for his, and later our, use. Instead of benches, it had six high-back chairs around its edge for us, and our, normally his, guests to use.
He sat elegantly in one of the high-back chairs, looking every inch the noble that he was. His clothes were by far the finest that were visible within the tavern, even if they were wrinkled and slightly scruffy after they had spent the night laying on the floor. Gomes was slender, which made him seem taller than his already slightly tall height. However, the top of his head barely reached my shoulders. His long, wild, black hair was tied back and his patchy black beard framed his butterscotch coloured face.
His easy smile was wider than normal this morning.
If the guests to the table, those women whom Gomes was chasing, saw such a bright smile, I was sure they would happily end up in his bed. Recently, the guests around this table also included Sara, not that Gomes had ever gone after her. She, along with Tan-bei, seemed to be the only woman around his age he had never gone after.
Of the six chairs, one looked almost like a throne and built much stronger than the rest. At first I thought it would be Gomes ’ chair as it was his purchase. But he surprised me by saying it was mine.
Being so sacrosanct, especially with a noble sitting at the table, this area was conspicuously empty, despite the tavern being packed on the far side. Ignoring the overwhelming hubbub of conversations this side looked almost as peaceful as normal. If you ignored the constantly flowing servers who kept heading behind the bar for drinks or to the kitchen for more trenchers of bread, butter, and cheese.
‘So after Lucia and I took her room last night, she didn’t spend her time behind the bar?’ Gomes asked with his easy smile, already knowing the answer.
I made my way round the table, gingerly doing my best not to strain my wound, to my throne-like chair which was set in such a position as if I were lording over the tavern. Right next to my chair was another chair. In front of Gomes was an almost empty trencher; the remnants of a slightly well done crust, crumbs of cheese, and the butter spread across the plate.
This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.
Before I sat down, I untucked the ornate knife from my belt and held it to him, handle first.
Before taking it, Gomes looked at it quizzically. I wasn ’t really surprised as the polished blue metal handle was covered entirely by small gilded flowers. Despite the weird look I remember feeling that the knife felt comfortable even in my giant paws of a hand. The blade was of the same polished blue metal, but instead of flowers it was covered with tendrils of ivy vines climbing up and smoothering its length.
With a hesitant two fingered grip he took the ornate knife from me and put it next to his trencher.
Just then, a trencher appeared in front of me. I looked across at Sara. Her warm white face, rounder and chubbier than most women was blushing slightly. Still they couldn ’t hide the stress and strain of the previous two long and hard years of running the tavern all by herself. Those those large eyes not being able to look directly at me. She was slightly chubby, nothing like my lean muscular self, but her plainness hid a beautiful soul.
Not knowing what I was doing, I pulled her closer. Her body was soft and chubby in places, and firm in others, typical of her kind-hearted yet firm self. Her familiar sweet, musky, and ingrained sweaty smell of the tavern was so unlike anything which I had known before her made me both wary and glad to be with her. The taste of cheap ale was made pleasant by being on her lips, as we kissed easily and fondly.
A roar of cheers echoed throughout the tavern.
Her cheeks blushed even more in an adorable fashion of embarrassment. Not that I could blame her, as I could feel the heat in my cheeks, too. She made to pull away from me, but I couldn ’t bear for her to leave just yet, so I held her close to me.
‘Just for now,’ I whispered to her.
Those beautiful bright eyes looked at me, then she sat down on my lap. She rested her back against my firm stomach and chest. ‘Okay. Ya owe me for leaving this morning.’
I wrapped my arm around her slightly plump stomach. ‘I’m sorry. I had to help Lucia find her token.’
She twisted her head to look up at me. ‘I know. Ya find it?’
I smiled at her and gave into temptation to give her another kiss. After our lips parted, I answered her, ‘we did.’
‘Where is she? I was hoping we could spend today together.’ Gomes asked.
‘Finding the coin took it out of her, so she’s currently sleeping.’ I said with a mixture of truth and half-truth.
‘And she was so looking forward to going around the stalls at the chapel with me today.’ Gomes said, looking at the remnants of his breakfast on the trencher, a complex look on his face. ‘Maybe I’ll join her. That might be pleasant as well.’
Gomes went to stand up.
‘She’s resting in one of her safe houses.’
He slumped back down. Sara twisted her body on my lap, knocking the wound with an accidentally careless elbow. I gasped in restrained pain.
‘What happened?’ Sara asked.
I nodded to the overly ornate knife next to Gomes ’ trencher. ‘That.’
‘Wow, seriously, a blade that can hurt you. Damn, that’s one powerful blade.’ Gomes said, picking the flower handled and ivy bladed knife up. His face went slightly blank for a moment in the same way it normally did when he channelled mana through mystical items. ‘Damn, this blade is something else. You seriously just giving it to me?’
I nodded. ‘Don’t trust those who had it before.’
‘Who had it?’
‘Lundein Pool Guardians. I believe.’ I said, turning my attention to the upset Sara on my lap.
I gave her a kiss on her beautifully messy honey blond hair and gave a slight squeeze of my arms. Then I reached out and tore the small loaf of bread in half. A faint veil of steam rose from the freshly baked bread. The lovely smell made my mouth water. Though our dorm mistress cooked lovely food, having freshly baked bread was something else. I dipped it in the butter and brought it up to eat.
‘Wait, let me move.’ Sara said, pulling away. ‘No want crumbs in me hair all day.’ She got up and stood next to me. ‘Love ya. Ya sure ya alright?’
Her eyes were looking at the area she nudged accidentally. I nodded in return.
She wrapped herself around my broad shoulders. ‘Need to work now, but can we…’
It didn ’t seem like she was going to finish her sentence. ‘We?’
She tucked her face into my body. ‘Me grateful for everything ya done for me. Not only for standin up against those who threaten me back then. But also just for ya bein ya. And again last night; after me heard about me Ma…’
It was strange for her to open herself up like this. Not know what to do, I just remained quiet, wrapping my arms around her.
‘Ya took care of me. Then ya went along with me selfish desires. Me bein selfish wanna claim ya, claim ya and chain ya. Will ya go along with me selfish desires again?’
With a slight squeeze of my arms, I held her tight. Not sure of how to respond, I tried to find a decent answer in my head.
‘Ya on way to temple today?’ Mirielda said from behind the bar. Her rosy cheeks twisting in a suggestive smile.
‘Aunt, ya canna say that.’ Sara pulled away from me and blurted out. Then, in a quiet voice, she carried on. ‘But me wanna go.’
The pressure was back on me again. I didn ’t know if I loved her, or if I was doing a Gomes and sleeping with her just because. But when I looked at her troubled face as she refused to look at me, it hurt. A desire to protect her so that she would never be sad again filled my heart.
‘I was promised some healing back at the Scōl. Can we wait until this afternoon?’