Dead Man's Money

Part One

What he had neglected to think about was the fact that Jin drank her bodyweight in beer every week. Her smell came close to driving even the necromancers from the bar.

And, of course--she was terrifying. Grouchily, unattractively terrifying. And, while that certainly helped in keeping bandits away, it kept the very people Aurian had been hoping to attract away, too--the townsfolk, in general, liked their tavern wenches along the buxom and pink-cheeked lines, as opposed to the one-eyed, foul-mouthed, and flat-chested.

Jin was, currently, sitting at the bar next to him, slurping away at yet another flagon of his latest brew. Aurian couldn't help adding the half-copper the beer was worth to his rising tally of marriage expenses.

When the weight with which she slammed the tankard down on the table cracked the handle in half, he added that, too.

"Dearest," Aurian tried delicately. "I could really use some help mucking out the stable."

"Why? There aren't any horses in it." Jin fiddled with the broken tankard, pressing the handle pieces back together. "And aren't likely to be any, either. 'Round these parts all you get is bandits. And their horses can sit in shit for a while."

"It would be nice," he ventured again, "to have a clean Inn."

"Eh? This place is plenty clean."

"Not the seat you're sitting on."

"Oh. That's just 'cause I'm sitting on it."

Had the conversation developed into an argument, that would have been exactly the statement Aurian would have made. Something about the utterly careless way she said it made Aurian smile in spite of himself.

He liked her. He couldn't help it. She was uncouth, dirt-smeared, hideous to behold--but she was also funny. She wasn't self-conscious. And she was, in her own way, generous--when it came to doing chores around the bar, chores she saw the sense in, she was always willing to help out.

And there was the sword to consider. The sharp blade, slightly curved, at her hip--the promise it represented that Aurian's out-of-the-way Inn would never again be molested. That part of her, at least, was perfectly clean. And, even if the rest of her was more trouble than he needed--the sword was worth the price of a marriage license, and a name change for Jin.

"I'll wipe the stool off when my ass is done sitting in it," Jin promised cheerily. "When I'm done sampling this fine vintage. This is a good brew, my dearie. Very...light. Very refreshing."

"You mean you think I watered it."

"Well, didn't you?"

"Of course I did!" Aurian sighed. "I didn't even have the cash to make one full barrel. One. It was three quarters full, at best. Hells, I had to water it so that we could drink it."

"Eh." Jin shrugged. "You'll have a necromancer or two along from the Coven, eventually. A few coppers'll always show up if you give them time. Don't worry so. It's such a small thing, to keep you awake at night."

"Small? Small? Jin. This is my business. This is my whole life. Everything I have--the food I eat, the beer I brew, the roof over our heads and whether or not it leaks all winter--everything is dependent on this small thing. I don't need a few coppers eventually, I need them now. How can you even say something like that?"

She shrugged, drained the rest of her tankard. "I guess I don't know much about earning a living, love. I've always had my sword, and that's been enough." She looked around the common room--at the rickety tables, the blackened hearth. "To tell you the truth, I always assumed this was a front. I figured you made your money elsewhere."

"Where else," Aurian said patiently, "would the money come from?"

Jin waved a very general hand. "I don't know! Maybe you're a card cheat. Maybe you go into the village and fleece them there. Maybe you have a small gift. The Sight, maybe? Your father--"

She paused.

"What?"

"Your father must've taught you a secondary trade. That's all."

Aurian sighed. "I feel like he barely taught me this trade, some days," he admitted. "I can read and write well enough. He made sure I got an education, even if it was just the town school. I've made a few coppers here and there transcribing things and drawing up documents for the townsfolk, but hells. It's a long trek for them to come out here, and there are plenty of scribes in town."

The look in Jin's single eye was uncomfortable. "Cor," she said. "I didn't know it was so bad, Aurian. Please believe me. That marriage license--that must've been your last coin."

"It was," Aurian said bitterly.

Jin clucked. "I'm sorry, husband," she said. "For what it's worth. Truly I am. If you really want me to muck out the stables, I'll do it."

"It's probably not necessary," Aurian said, refilling his glass from one of the newly-purchased jugs. "You're probably right."

"But it would make you feel better."

"Maybe."

"Well, then," Jin said fondly. She ruffled his hair with a grimy hand. "Mucked out the stables'll be."