Ardalia: The Breath of Aoles

Chapter Six - THE THREE TAVERNS

The days, and then the weeks, went by. There was no sign of Alicene, and Pelmen's wrestling sessions were no more encouraging than the initial defeat he had suffered at Arlece's hands. Although he succeeded in avoiding being too badly maltreated, most of the time he was thrown out of the combat area, the victim of his own impetuousness and naïvety. To reassure himself, he went to shoot thorns into the wooden puppets, nervous that his skill with the bow would prove insufficient. Teleg was the reason for his occasional visits to the Three Taverns quarter. Pelmen struggled to restore his faith in the future, but every time he saw him, his friend seemed surlier. A few days before Tinmal's full moon, which marked the opening of the Tournament, he met him in Master Daguen's tavern, a renowned rogues' den.

"You're still my friend, aren't you?" Teleg asked him, directly, as soon as he had sat down at his table.

"Of course."

"So you'd be willing to do me a favor?"

"Er... yes, I think so," Pelmen watched him anxiously. Teleg's eyes were feverish, and his breath reeked, as it did too often.

"Good. I need you to bring me my flints. I need them."

"Your flints? What are you going to do with them?"

"I need them, that's all. You're my friend, aren't you? They're still mine—or have you taken them for yourself?"

Pelmen gritted his teeth. He was beginning to get used to Teleg's provocative attitude. "You might want... to trade them for camlorn beer."

"So what? Beer is expensive and, recently, the innkeepers have stopped wanting me to work for them. You aren't going to leave me in the lurch, are you?"

"I'm sorry... it's impossible. I can't be part of..." Pelmen indicated his companion's tankard and then the counter. "... your self-destruction. You need to pull yourself together, Teleg, the sooner, the better."

"Pull myself together?" Teleg grabbed Pelmen by the collar of his shirt. "Do you want to know what I think? I think I don't want to see you anymore. This respect for authority, this selflessness, becoming a pawn like the others..." Teleg grimaced in disgust while loosening his grip. "And then, you're here, and you remind me of... too many things. Things which make me feel ill... that I want to forget. Get out. Get out and don't come back."

Pelmen felt himself turn pale. "You've had too much to drink... the camlorn has gone to your head."

"Don't try to force your presence on me again, or..."

"Or what?"

Teleg fixed him with a menacing stare. Out of the corner of his eye, Pelmen was distressed to see that they had become the center of the inn's curious patrons' attention. As Teleg did not relax his lips, Pelmen had no alternative but to stand up and leave the tavern, in a deathly silence. He heard the conversations slowly continue behind him.

That night, he had trouble sleeping. The times he had spent with Master Galn and Teleg in Falsine had been happy. Maybe Master Galn had encouraged their friendship, however, in spite of that, Teleg had accepted him as his equal, so much so that he had contributed to bringing his life's goal within range. Until the day when he had reached the age at which he could free himself from his father's control, that was what had allowed him to endure working in the tannery. He knew all that he owed him.

What a turnaround! He's no longer the same hevelen. I'd never have believed he was so fragile.

What should he do? Teleg had been robbed of his rightful inheritance, and as such was now calling the authority of the Aguerris into question. Should he rally to his friend's point of view and also enter into rebellion? And in the days to come, what could he do to help him?