Dark Tides

Chapter 2

The sound of a ceramic plate crashing onto the floor echos through the tavern. Shattered pieces scatter everywhere behind the bar. "Ow ow ow," says Bea, clutching her hand. You rush over to help her. A shard cut her finger. Taking a nearby dish towel, you wrap her wound up.

"Thank you." Bea looks around nervously. "Abbott isn't here right?"

"No," you say in relief. "Are you ok?"

"Yes, just on my last straw with that damn fool. I can't lose this job."

You have sympathy for her. Both of you started here a couple of months ago and her mother kicked her out until she found work. Being clumsy in a bar doesn't turn out well for anyone, but she makes the best of it.

Bea walks to the back, holding her hand to her chest. You finish wiping down the counter. Now with a new rag. The bar is less crowded tonight. Only a few men quietly drinking their pints. Those are your favorite. The ones who just leave you alone.

Just then, the old wooden door swings open. It brings a gust of warm night air into the room. You look to the entrance and see a tall man. He's dressed in a dark blue doublet with a worn-out tricorne hat. He has to bend slightly to walk under the warped frame.

He takes long steps to the high counter and lumbers down onto a stool. Taking his hat off his head, he runs a hand over his hair to smooth it down. Your eyes track him the whole time. He's different from the usual patrons. His presence and movements are calculated. You guess that he's not looking to get drunk.

His eyes shift to you. He grins and raises his eyebrows quickly in greeting. The pitcher of water freezes in your hand on its way to pour. It slips and water splashes onto the table instead of the glass you were aiming for. The man who wanted the water exclaims in anger, "Hey!"

"So sorry," you say quickly. Wiping it up. You walk away, but it brings you right in front of the mysterious man on the other side of the counter.
"A pint, please," he says in a deep voice. You nod, turning to grab a pint glass.

When you are about to set the drink down in front of him, he leans forward. It startles you and some ale spills onto your hand. He has a slight smirk on his face now.

"Are you always this nervous serving customers?" he says in a low voice. His head tilts to the side.

"Um-" You fully set it down. "No, I-"

"It's okay, princess. I won't hurt you."

Your eyes flick up to his. They're locked onto your chest. Oh, of course. You scoff under your breath and turn away.

"What's the necklace?"

You freeze. Looking down, it's there. The pendant you stole from your father. You turn back to him with your hand on the chain.

"It's mine."

"Well, obviously, but where'd you get it?"

Your eyebrows furrow in suspicion. He wouldn't have been sent by your father right? "Family heirloom," you say, looking him up and down.

"Hm. Can I see it?"

You hesitate. But he only seems curious. Your hand lifts the gold chain out of the bust of your dress. The medallion reflects the light, slowly spinning around. The man's eyes are fixed on it. His gaze is now serious. Not the playful one from when he first entered.

Your hand grabs it again and shoves it back into your dress. He breaks his stare, bringing his eyes to yours.

"I have an offer."

"Not interested," you reply. You're used to turning down men's 'offers' that come into the bar. Without looking back, you walk away quickly so he can't argue.