The War of The Magi : Book One

Chapter Two

The sunlight had brought out many people farming and harvesting the food that could barely grow under the usual darkness. It had also brought out numerous travelers that had made it to their town before nightfall settled. Senea was prompt with delivering unknown amounts of ale, mead, and wine to the many men that had filled the tavern. She was also quick with delivering meals to the travelers who chose to stay for the night. The other girls were quicker to flirt and sit on their laps and hope that they would be taken away.

"Girl!" a drunken voice called out as Senea turned to pick up an empty stein. "Hey, girl!" the voice called louder as she ignored it.

"Senea, he's calling you," a girl with light brown hair whispered to her sympathetically.

Senea sighed and turned, putting on her fake smile and swiveled her hips to the drunk calling her. "Need another one?" she asked politely.

"How come you don't sit on my lap like the other girls do?" he slurred out as his table mates laughed. "I'm not good enough for you?"

"Don't want to make the other girls jealous when you pick me," she said in a sassy tone. She spun away from him as the laughter roared from the table.

The night went on in much the same manner. Two of the bolder girls that she was raised with had slipped up the stairs that led to the inn and would come back down, disheveled and a few gold coins richer. Derrick would immediately grab one of the older boys that had worked as a bartender and placed him in charge, then took the girls in the back. Derrick never would hit or discipline any of them of course; he left that for his wife. The Mistress had always made it clear that her inn was not a brothel, and if they wanted to go and waste their lives as whores then she would send them off in nothing but a robe and they could whore themselves to get to a city. Most of the older ones would take that offer. The smart ones would repent and work in the kitchen or be on cleaning duty as punishment.

Tonight was no different. It put more strain on Senea as the girls who would flirt and sell their bodies were taken away for the night, causing Derrick to send out two boys to help her deliver meals and drinks to the mostly man filled crowd.

As the night wore on, the drunkards became rowdier, singing loud and obnoxious songs about the old kingdom. They stopped ordering food first, giving Senea a much needed break. Then they would stop ordering drinks. Then the propositions would fly at Derrick about her.

"I'll buy her for five gold coins," one would ask him.

"She's not for sale."

"I'll give you three gold coins if she sucks me off," another would say.

"She's not for sale."

"Ten gold coins if you let her sleep with me tonight!" another proclaimed.

Each and every time, he would only say, "She's not for sale," and off they would go, either to bed, alone, or back home to their wives. And any time any of them got too demanding, Derrick would simply walk down the hallway towards the kitchen, and out would come the Mistress. Upon seeing her stern face, they would go running. For that night, it didn't come to that.

As the last of the tavern's patrons had left, and Derrick's apprentice was counting the various amounts of gold, the door opened, the cool summer air filling the room. Derrick looked up at the door, glaring as an armored man walked in. His boots clanked against the wood floor, and his sheathed sword tapped against the door as the armored man turned to Derrick. "Got a room?" he asked, his accent intriguing Senea.

"There's one, but it's my worst." Senea knew of the room that Derrick was discussing. He never sold that room to anyone; the bed was nothing more than sawdust, the pillow hay, and every worker there was told to never enter it as the floor was about to give. Derrick had used it to house old supplies, or a beggar that had been stranded in Rosewater, feeling pity for them as he firmly believed that no one should be out at night.