Fixing the top button of his waistcoat, Artos looks around the sparse room as he picks up his belt and sword. He checks the strapping then wraps it around his waist, fixing the buckle together at the centre. He twists around feeling the weight of the katana on his left hip again, tweaking it slightly. He grabs up his snood and pulls it over his head then moves over to the window. He pulls back the curtains moving back as dust filters down from the rail above. He peers through dirty windows out into the street beyond. The sandy street is almost empty at this early hour, the only movement comes from a shopkeeper across the way fiddling with something inside his window display. He looks further down the street at a few larger buildings, the only two that are bigger than the saloon.
"Mmm, I'll have to check those out, see what they are." He rubs at a smudge of dirt absently and leans closer, he catches a glimpse of his reflection and moves back. "I need a shave," he says, rubbing the stubble on his chin. "God, I need more food." He turns from the window taking the few steps to the door. He twists the key with a click then pulls on the handle. The hinges squeak slightly making him wince unknowingly. Artos steps over the threshold pulling the door behind him and makes his way down the hallway towards a sleepy sounding main room below.
Reaching the top of the stairs he takes a quick look over the plain wooden bannister. He picks out the girl from last night, the one who came to his room. She stands by the piano, her eyes devouring the large instrument with hunger. Then he picks out the barkeep, Ernie was his name, yes. Ernie, he says to himself as he watches the portly man pick up a dirty washcloth and continue to wipe and polish the same glass over and over. "Like every other barkeep throughout this wretched land," he whispers.
A creak brings his attention to the batwing doors and the man who enters. He struts in with the confidence of a raging bull, all smoke and bravado. He looks around the room with distaste then tips his hat up and walks towards the bar and to where Ernie still stands polishing. But before he can get more than two steps, a smooth drawl takes the place of his heavy boots pulling him to a sudden halt, his foot still in the air.
"Now, Gain. You surely don't want to be coming here for trouble, do ya?" she asks as her skirts flow from somewhere under the stairs to make her way to the centre of the room. Her vibrant blue eyes looking him up and down. "Well, do ya?"
Gain looks at her now, a stifled moan on his lips before he speaks, "Well, Lettie. No, I don't want no trouble." He itches at a swollen eye and grimaces at his touch. "Fuck," he mutters.
"Well, now. We're not open yet, are we, Ernie?" Lettie says, her voice commanding in the empty room.
"Ah, yes. That right, Madam Lettie. That right. We ain't open yet, Gain. Not open." Then his eyes drop back to his glass once again.
"Anyway, Gain. You don't want no more trouble, especially from him," she throws her hand up in his direction making all of them turn and stare at the top of the staircase.
Clever woman. I'll have to keep an eye on her. Did I misjudge, maybe? We'll see.
"Morning," he says, he keeps his voice low, menacing. He smiles internally at Gain's response. He trips over a bar stool whilst backing up and almost falls, but manages to grab the edge of the bar just in time.
"I don't want no trouble, Mister. Not again. Sorry for last..." Gain pause as he catches Artos's eye. "Drunk me is a horrible man, ya see. Horrible."
Artos eyes him, fixing him with a stare for longer than necessary. "He licks his lips and runs his tongue across his teeth. "I'm sure the sober you is horrible too?" He lets the question linger in the air, not caring about the outcome. God, I'm hungry.
"Go on, Gain. Out of here, I won't tell ya again," drawls Lettie as she saunters closer to the man.
Gain nods as he stands tall, "Right ya are, Lettie. I'll be going now." He turns and almost sprints out of the room, the twin bat doors flapping wildly after him.
Artos watches it all with a smirk on his face and starts down the rickety stairs, each step creaking and groaning with his weight. He reaches the bottom and steps onto the stained wooden floor that had been sanded down to many times. He looks up, catching Lettie's eyes making her blush, then at the other one standing next to the piano, her focus now on him alone. She is pretty but young. Too young.
"Morning," he says again, this time his voice takes on a cheerier note.
"Morning, handsome," replies Lettie. She makes her over to him, her frilly dresses swaying back and forth with each step. "How'd you sleep?"
"Better than sleeping outside, that I can say."
"I'll take that as a yes then," she blushes, flitting her eyelashes at him as she moves closer. She takes hold of his hand and guides him to a table. "Here, take a seat. I'll get you some breakfast?"
He stares at her now, their eyes meeting. "Thank you."
"You are most welcome. I'll be right back, you just sit there and relax."
He watches her saunter away, her dresses swaying and so does her backside. He follows the curve of her back up to her neck that is exposed for all to see. Maybe. Just maybe. He follows how her body moves until she disappears through a door and out of sight. Artos turns taking in the saloon around him in the daylight. The walls are nearly bare with the only decoration coming from the few dully-painted shutters on the windows to a few pictures of maps from the old days when they were still useful. Then lastly right above where the old fireplace used to be, sits the giant head of a moose. The hair is falling out leaving bald patches now and the eyes have lost their glaze but the massive antlers that sit atop its head are marvellous and still bright white. They shine like a beacon in the room.
"How in the hell did that get here?" he asks himself.
"That there is from the zoo maybe a hundred miles away."
Artos moves quickly, he's up out of his chair with one hand on the hilt of his sword and the other on his dagger. He spins to look at the speaker. His eyes narrow then open as he relaxes, his hands move off and fall to his sides as he looks at a boy standing in front of him.
"Where did you come from?" he asks.
"Me? Oh, I just sneak in here sometimes. I like to look at the beast up there. Pa doesn't let me come in here, so I have to do it when he's not around. I like it in here. I like the beast and I like to sneak. Also, who are you? Where do you come from? Do you know how to use that? What have—"
"Stop! Please," says Artos holding up a hand. "You ask a lot of questions, don't you boy?"
"Oh, yeah I do. There was this one time—"
"Just slow it will you? I'm in no rush, okay?"
The boy nods with a smile. "So, what—"
"Hold it," Artos says with a grin, the first real grin since before. "Firstly, tell me your name? I suspect it's not, boy?"
"My name? My name is—"
"Jack!" shouts a voice. It makes both of them look up at the angry but beautiful face of Lettie as she strides across the room faster than Artos thought possible for someone in that size of a dress. She stops in front of the boy so quickly she almost loses the content of the tray she is holding in her right hand but manages to keep it from spilling. She puts it down on the table gently and follows that with a mug of spiced ale that she had been holding in her left hand. She smiles at Artos then turns to the boy who now has a look of fear on him.
"Hi, Miss Lettie. How are you doing today?" he asks.
She crouches down to his level spreading her skirts out wide like a flower. "Jack, what have I told you about coming in here? You are not allowed, and that's coming from your Pa too."
"But, it's just... I like looking at the beast, Miss Lettie. And, there is someone new to talk too." He finishes with a beaming smile plastered across his face as if he'd just said something smart.
"That beast there," she points. "Is called a moose. It is very old and should have been taken down years ago. Now, off you go and stop harassing my customers. Go on, away with you."
"But," he protests, taking a step back. "But, do I have to? I'll keep out of the way, I promise."
"No, Jack. this is no place for a boy your age. Now, go before I call your Pa."
"Okay," he mopes, dropping his head. "Bye then. See you again soon," he says then runs from the room, his feet nearly silent on the creaky floorboards.
Artos watches him go, he runs across the room then ducks under the batwing doors almost sliding on his knees. "Mmm, interesting kid," he murmurs.
"He's a good boy really. Just needs some guidance. I keep telling him not to come in here though. He always bothers the customers."
"He was no bother. I haven't seen a boy his age, or any age for a long while." He looks away from her now, the pain etched across his face plain to see.
Lettie places a hand on his arm, "Are you okay, darling?" she asks, her voice silky once again.
He takes a deep breath and turns back to her, "Sure," his face a steel mask once more. "Seeing a kid again just through me is all. No need to worry."
He says the last with a smile, the first he had shown her. She beams one back to him, it lights up her face showing a few lines but for the most part, she was a beauty in her own right.
"Anyway. Here, I've brought you some breakfast and a mug of—"
"Spiced ale?" he finishes.
"Ha!" she laughs. "How did you know?"
"I could smell it the minute you put it down. I haven't had a good spiced wine in I don't know how long." He stares into her eyes now, his deep green sparkling at her vibrant blue. "Thank you."
"You are most welcome, darling." She looks away seeing Daisy still staring at them both. She blushes, suddenly aware that she had forgotten about everything else. "Go on, Daisy. Go help Ernie in the back will ya?"
"Oh, yes. Right away Madam Lettie." She says it with a smile but frustration lit up her eyes at the dismissal. She walks across their path and towards the back door. "Sure there's nothing I can help with?" she asks holding on to the handle.
Lettie turns with a smile, "We're good, Daisy. Now run along." She turns back to face Artos as the door behind her slams shut making her wince slightly. "Well enjoy your breakfast, darling." She moves to get up but is stopped by a hand holding hers. "Darling?" she asks.
"Stay awhile, will ya?" he replies, adopting her dialect.
She smiles at him and sits back down. "I will, darling. But there is one thing I would like to know if it's not too much trouble?"
"Ask away," he nods.
"Your name's not Nomad. And as much as I like calling you darling, I'm sure that will get on your nerves. So?"
"Artos. My name is Artos."
Lettie runs it through her mind before speaking, "Artos? Hmm, I like it. It fits you."
"Well that's a good thing, eh?" he laughs now, the sound low but full of mirth.
"It is good to hear you laugh, Artos. You are too serious. I hope you don't pass on too quickly."
She winks at him and he smiles back. "We'll see. Maybe I could stay awhile."
Maybe?
Thanks for reading.