CROWNS I: Of Desolate Hope | ✔

31. Thom Percy's Plan

 Thom Percy slammed his fist on to the table. His mug wobbled and a little water fell out. Thom could feel his eyes burning and had no memory of what had happened the night before. You've done it this time, Thom. He stumbled to his feet and looked around. He was the only person in there, save for the innkeeper.

"I can see that look in your eye, Sir Thom," said the man, who looked too young to be a squire let alone own a tavern. "You don't remember anything."

Thom rubbed his eyes furiously before squinting at the young man whilst his vision returned. "You look too young to be the owner of this place."

"And you look too young to be drinking and crying yourself to sleep every night."

Thom felt the urge to burst out laughing but could barely force out a fake smile. He hadn't see Hannah for a few days and his job didn't appeal to him anymore. Nothing did. "Too true, boy," he replied, dejectedly. "

"So tell me...what's wrong," said the innkeeper, cleaning multiple dirty plates and mugs with haste. "Lady problems?"

Thom's heart sunk for the one-thousandth time of the week. "I-I guess you could say that," he croaked. "I needed to look out for her and I didn't. I...let her down and -"

"Say no more," interrupted the young man. "I know exactly how you feel."

"I severely doubt that-"

"When was the last time you saw her?"

"Nearly a whole week ago," replied Thom, discretely tipping his mug of water onto the grimy, wooden floor. I need more ale or wine...probably both.

The innkeeper jumped over the counter. There was a large crack as he sat on plate and a curse under his breath. "Do you think sitting there every day is going to help you get her back?"

"Well no. That's just it, I can't get her back! I can't do shit!" shouted Thom, distressed.

"Someone with more muscle get her?"

"In a sense but that doesn't matter-"

"You need to fight for her!" exclaimed the barkeeper, with so much eagerness that he cracked the glass in his hand. "Ah, shit."

Thom stood up and patted the young man on the shoulder as if he were a little boy. "I would love to do that but I can't. I'd die."

The innkeeper had a strange grin ridden across his face. "Not if you have the people with you."

"Everyone loves a bit of romantic drama," he replied. "If someone's stolen your woman you can count on me and my friends to get her back with you."

This time, Thom burst out laughing. This guy's got to be joking...

"Before you ask...I am older than you, Sir," he added, matter-of-factly. "And as for why we'd do that...you're like a role model for us! The youngest knight for a hundred hundred years and all!"

Thom felt inspiration wash over him like a cold wave. "With enough men and effort, you can get anything done-"

"Absolutely. That's the right attitude."

The sun began to warm Thom's back through the window behind him. He watched a mouse scurry across the room with an entire apple in its tiny paws. Quite a big thing to be carrying for something so small. The sound of the young barkeeper smacking the floor with a broom snapped Thom out of his gaze. "What d'you that for?" he asked, hoping that the mouse would make it to the hole on the other side of the room.

"Isabelle Murrow was talking about hygiene and stuff and how it's important. I'd much rather listen to her than the King and his band of idiots."

"So would I..."