The Wandering Wordsmith

The Guard

Conall

The pub was quiet when Conall entered through the wood door. Lanterns hung from the room to dimly illuminated the dull space. Patrons kept their heads down as they took sips from flagons.

''Why are you all so sad?'' asked Conall aloud, but there was no response. So with his shoulders slumped in defeat he made his way to the bar.

''Fintan! Some strong whiskey please,'' Conall called to the barman raising a finger to get the old man's attention.

The man obliged looking Conall straight in the eye. ''So I see your back,'' the man said.

''Just passing through, thought I might as well stop by and give you a tune or two,'' Conall said as he took a sip of the liquid. ''You pay well,'' Conall said using a thumb to point to the guitar he had leaned against the bar beside him.

''I can part with five gold,'' Fintan told him a challenge in his eyes.'' Which will just about cover the price of that drink.''

Conall almost spat the alcohol all over the man. ''What happened to the hundred I usually get.''

''Well one of The Guard was in here the last night and he just happened to mention you,'' as he said this Fintan pointed to his left shoulder.

Conall paled as Fintan got closer and whisper ''You're lucky I didn't piss in your whisky you little unbrand scum,'' his usually friendly tone now laced with hostility.

''Who crapped in your cereal this morning,'' Conall slid the drink to Fintan ''Here I think you need this more than me.''

''Listen kid the only reason The Guard isn't waiting here for you right now is because I kept my mouth shut!''Fintan spat.

''Was that you trying to be nice, cause I've heard people threaten to kill me in much more courteous ways before,'' Conall took back and downed his drink then realised his mistake as it seared his throat. ''Sipping whisky, I forgot.'' he croaked.

''I'd recommend you start to sing before I tell the rest of my clients about your little secret,'' Fintan said motioning to the rest of the occupants with a small wave of his hand.

''Can't you let me enjoy my agony for even a second?'' But he was already beginning to tune his guitar. ''Right, where's the coin?''

''I told you this session will pay for this whisky,'' Fintan said beginning to clean some flagons.

''But whisky is usually only a silver , you old son of a -,'' Conall was cut short by a sharp look from Fintan.

With a sigh, Conall took a seat atop the bar and placed the guitar across his lap. ''Ok everyone this first song's called 'The Barmans a Prick'.''

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He had been playing for about half an hour when a bang cut short a verse of 'When Drink Thinks'.Then there was a knock on the oak door.

''The Guard!'' Shouted one man, as if everyone didn't already know.

A stone broke a window and Conall looked for any escape. He spotted a door that led into the adjacent building. He didn't know what that building was but maybe he could hide there for a bit. Being a wanted criminal was all about taking risks after all.

He shot an accusing look at the Fintan before bolting to the door at the back of the pub. Luckily it was open and he closed it just as the other door was opened.

What was on the other side shocked Conall. A drug den. A thick smog hung heavily in the air bathing the addicts in a smoke of all colours and scents. Roses, Tulips even daisies.