The Innkeeper

Chapter 1

He sighed as the same man spilled his ale again. He would have to go and wipe it up himself, stepping away from his place behind the bar. If he had the money for serving girls under his employ to do the task for him he would gladly ask them to do it. As it was, he could barely pay himself.

Ever since Morgarath had retreated to his gloomy mountains, nothing seemed to go right for Samuel. He had come home, expecting to see his wife and newborn child, but she had died in childbirth and the baby hadn't made it either. His establishment, already a small inn with an even tinier tavern, lost business as farmers returning from the war saved their scarce coins for these hard times. 

He knew how it went. The southern half of Araluen had its crops raided or burned, and the northern half had provided for the army. With little to no harvest to actually sell or store for the winter, the larger farms had taken advantage of the demand and increased their price. Now, with spring on the horizon, farmers had to start from scratch and those who provided seed didn't care if they couldn't pay the ridiculous fees. King Duncan had done his best to counteract the men taking advantage of the post-war times, and the lack of taxes for the little villages may have just saved him, but it was still a struggle as a small business owner. Samuel could only keep trying and hope he didn't go under.

He waved the apologies aside and raised the tankard to clean the table underneath. Internally he was very annoyed at the drunk wasting his precious ale but he refused to show it. The stranger was willing to pay for refills, something the local farmers coming in to forget their stress for a moment never did. It was suspicious, he admitted, someone having coins to spare. His need for business prevented him from asking questions and getting answers he preferred not to deal with. Worst comes to worst, he knew he had a club behind the bar to defend himself with.

As he sloshed the ale around with his rag, he lamented his bad turn of fate. What was so horribly unlucky about starting an inn to raise his family in? he wondered. He had married his wife only a year or so before, and bought the two-storey building just after that. It had been the happiest day of his life, handing over his royals, knowing he could provide a good life for his lovely Isabella. Now he had to start over from scratch like the farmers with nothing but a business that was hanging by a thread and no reason to run it.

He finished cleaning and brought the large mug to the bar, slapping the wet cloth down beside it. He knew it was getting late and he would have to close down the bar soon. Being the one and only worker meant that he had to wake up at dawn to get breakfast going, instead of handing that duty off to his wife. Perhaps closing was a good enough excuse to shoo the stranger out of his tavern. The drunk had had enough for the night, considering he couldn't even keep his tankard sitting still on the table.

"Out, please," he said to the offending man, trying not to discourage him from returning, and the others in the tavern at the same time. The farmers nodded ascent and began to end their conversations.

"But I's not done," the drunk begged, his country accent slurred. Samuel knew if he could milk more coins from this man he would be closer to breaking even and having money stored away for a harder time than this, but he also knew this man had drunk too much already. His conscience would not allow it. When he lost everything else, at least he would still have his morals.

"No, I'm afraid not. You can come back tomorrow," Samuel replied. He pursed his lips as the other man stood and started waving his hands around, looking like he was about to get violent. "I'm closing up for the night."

If there hadn't been several other customers hanging around he would have no problem disabling the man and shoving him out the door. He had faced much worse things during the war, albeit from a distance. He figured the drunk was a traveller and there was a small chance he would come back anyway. However, he had a couple respectable visitors at this time, farmers he knew by face from a few miles down the road.