KidFors story, part 2
Sep. 3rd, 2004 12:50 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
forsythAs it says in the title. Though this is all still first draft, and I know I need to change at least one thing in the first part.
I could hear the tavern from halfway across the village, singing, music, and assorted noise. As I got closer, I could start to make out a few voices. Sounds like everybody was partying, after getting back from whatever they'd gone to do. Good, and it was early too. That'd mean everybody who'd gone with Mom should still be there, and be awake. You pick up on some things pretty quick when you live near a bunch of "adventurers". Things like how long they can drink before they pass out, for one. Hey, kids aren't stupid.
Closer, I could make out actual voices. Well, a voice, the singing one. It was Patch, as usual. He might not have had a great voice, given years of being a mercenary and shouting and such, but he knew what he was singing, and was good at it. Nice cheerful upbeat music, unless you stopped and listened to the lyrics, which were almost always about people dying, or drinking until they passed out, or so on. You know, soldier's songs. I pushed open the door and slipped in carefully. Patch was perched on the bar, with his weird little ukulele. Never did find out where he got that. Skif, Lenny Four-fingers, and Llurdwurgle were accompanying him on other instruments. And most of the rest of the crowd was clapping, singing, or dancing. Mom'd probably slipped on ahead because she missed us. Besides, the party hadn't really kicked into full swing yet, the whole crowd, counting the musicians, couldn't have been more than a dozen people. Come evening, though...
"...and then I'll knock on 'is door, and when ole Death answers, I'll kick 'im in the shin and spit in 'is eye!" Patch sang. Then he looked directly at me, and winked. Drat. Thought I'd been so clever, over in the shadows. He musta seen the door open, nobody else was looking that way, luckily. Even so...
I moved, just in case anybody else'd seen where he looked, ducking under a nearby table. So, lesse. Mom'd gone off with Skif, Lenny Four-fingers, Phonar and his student, Tim, and...who else. Oh, yes, Thurg and his kid, Maurice. Maurice'd gone along to "prove his manhood" and suchlike, I thought. And he was only like four years older than me, I could probably get an answer out of him...
Now, if I were now officially an adult, where would I be? Somewhere else, probably. Then I heard somebody spitting and coughing over by the bar, then Thurg laughing above the noise. Yeah, drinking, that's where he'd be. I slipped out from under the table, to another table. One thing I've found, tavern floors are generally really unpleasant to be near, not that I have too much option. Gah. I mean, really, who leaves puddles of curdled booze on the floor, even if it's covered in sawdust and reeds? Great, now my shoe was squeaking, like it did when wet. Though I seriously doubted anybody else could hear it. There was one more empty table, over closer to the bar, so there I went. From here, I could see them. Yup, there was Thurg, laughing. Maurice was bent half off a stool, coughing, a couple other people nearby were chuckling. Probably wanted to prove he was all big and tough to his dad, and went for the Troll's Vomit.
Blearg, Samel only brewed that stuff in midwinter, several miles from town. And even then everywhere would smell worse than a tannery for at least a week. Stupid. Maybe he'd swallowed enough he'd tell me where Mom hid her backpack though. Thurg'd probably know too... and so would a bunch of other people here. Duh.
I got distracted from my pending interrogation when I heard the door open and spotted a familiar pair of shoes. Edalin. Crap, couldn't let her find me... hey, wait a second, what was she doing here? And then Patch finished his song, with a rousing "...and spit in 'is eye!"
Well, poop. Edlain hadn't seen me, but that'd make the idea of getting up on the table and asking "Anybody seen my Mom's backpack?" harder. She hadn't seen me yet, what with the whole being under the table thing and all, she was tall enough the tables actually blocked her view. I slipped back into more shadow anyway, just to be safe. What WAS she doing here, anyway? Nobody paid that much attention to her, I heard a couple of greetings, but hey. She'd been gone a few months and come back looking a good bit different. And there were a bunch of ferrets in the town, besides just us. But she headed over by Thurg and Maurice and sat down on a stool. Well, crap! How was I supposed to talk to them now?
Hmpf. I snuck back away from the bar a bit, over in the shadows by another table, just in case she'd spot me. Maybe I could sneak upstairs and search the rooms, Mom mighta hid the backpack in the tavern... THUNK!
I nearly jumped out of my skin at the THUNK from the table above me, as somebody set down a mug. Set's a rather soft term. And I did literally jump, and thumped my head on the bottom of the table. "Ow!" I shouted in a whisper.
And then I felt eyes on me and turned, holding my hand on my head. Ow. Patch was leaned sideways, looking under the table at me. Crap. "And what's a lad like ye doin' 'ere, eh?"
"I'm helping Mom!" I said.
"Oh, ye are, are ye?"
"Yup!"
"From under the table there?"
"Err..." Crap. "Yup!"
"I see then. Well, could ye come sit up 'ere, so an old man like me don't have to strain 'is ailin back?"
"Uhhh," I said stalling for time and sneaking a peek over toward the bar. Thurg had moved down to talk to the bartender and Edalin was talking with Maurice. She was looking the opposite way from me and laughing. "Sure," I said, scooting over and hopping up onto the bench on the far side of the table and keeping one eye on Edalin.
Patch looked over at me. "So yer mom sent ye 'ere?"
Patch, I should explain, was retired. Not from "adventuring", like a bunch of the people here. No, he'd served in several armies, depending on politics and pay and other stuff like that. He didn't tell war stories like some of the other vets, their were all glory and honor and bloody decapitations, the perfect things to enrapture kids' interest. Patches only ever told a few stories, and spent more time on the friends he saw die than on glory and honor. There were plenty of bloody decapitations and such, but they weren't the same. Just people dying messily. The only fight story he ever seemed to take any pleasure in telling wasn't a war, it was from when he got separated and lost in some jungle to the north.
He was lost, and this big critter attacked him, its claws ripped a big chunk of skin right off his shield arm. He tossed it off, and caught it across the jaw with his sword the next time it jumped at him. It coulda probably run, then, since he wasn't in any shape to chase. But it jumped at him again, right onto his sword. The only thing he could do about the big tear in his arm was cut a chunk of the critter's skin out and wrap it around as a bandage. By the time he got back, it'd grafted on. It was there still, he'd gladly show you the patch of long grey fur on his arm there, completely different than the rest of his short brown weasel fur. So, yeah, that's why he was called Patch. I always thought he was awesome.
"No, not exactly, but she lost something, so I'm gonna find it for her!"
Patch nodded, seriously. "And what'd she lose then, eh?"
"Her backpack. Looked all over and I can't find it."
"Ye can't, or she can't?"
I tried my best to look innocent. "Both."
"I see," Patch said, and I almost though he'd bought it, "So Lightfingers misplaced 'er backpack, and ye decided to be a good little son and find it for 'er, eh?"
"Yup," I said, relaxing slightly.
"So... why were ye skulking about under the tables, then, like ye were afraid somebody'd see ye?"
"Uhh..." I panicked, "because of her," I said, pointing at Edalin
And then I looked where I was pointing. Holy crap, what? Edalin was giving Maurice a kiss on the cheek? My jaw dropped. "Ah, it seems yer sister's found a lad she fancies," Patch drawled, apparently amused at my expression.
Maurice? What? Holy crap, Edalin just gave him a kiss? He's like three years younger than her... Then she looked my way. I ducked, but too late. "Forsyth!" she yelled. She does that a lot.
Crap. I heard the bar go quiet in the wake of her yell, then heard her jump down and saw her running toward my table, dodging around the chairs. "You are gonna be in so much trouble!"
Crap. I ran for the door. I heard Patch laugh behind me. "You are so not getting away, kiddo!" Edalin yelled.
We'll see about that, I figured I was faster than her. The crowd in the tavern started cheering us, hey, free entertainment. Being able to duck under tables and dodge stools is one of the benefits of being short, but I was still young, she was faster than me and had more practice, Edalin jumped off a table and landed in the door ahead of me. "You know Mom doesn't want you coming here!"
Actually, Mom hadn't said any such thing. Which was very wise of her, looking back on it. The best way to make sure we got into something was to tell us to stay out of it. Brats we were. Still are, some of us. Which is a good thing. I didn't think arguing minor details like that with Edalin was gonna do any good, older sisters are bossy that way. So, I skidded and turned, "accidentally" kicking a bunch of sawdust and straw up at her. And while she was shielding her eyes and coughing out the sawdust, I went from ground to stool to table, then jumped from table to table toward the bar and the back door. "'Scuse me, pardon me, thanks for the sausage," I muttered as I ran.
"You little brat!" she yelled. Some people never really were clear on the duties of younger brothers, she always overreacted like that.
Edalin wiped the sawdust from her eyes and bounced up after me, trailing occasional bits of straw. I had a good lead on her. Which disappeared when I was looking back at her and missed the jump. Even back then, I was pretty good, so I managed to turn the awkward sprawling thing into a roll that ended up with me practically back on my feet. Edalin was only two tables back, but I stayed on the ground, under the last two tables, and under the hinged part of the bar. I burst into the kitchen, the swinging door almost catching Edalin in the face. Whoops, she'd probably not have a sense of humor about that, either.
"HEY! Out of my kitchen!"
That'd be Samel's second wife, Thaelia, very nice lady, but a bit overprotective of her kitchen. Samel never mentioned his first wife, aside from saying it was a good thing he'd escaped from her diabolical clutches. Never did get him to specify how literally he meant that.
"Oh no, you're not looting my storeroom again!" Thaelia said, blocking the storeroom door.
And the back door, that was right next to it. Edalin burst in right then, drawing Thaelia's attention. I turned again, jumped up on the counter, dodged around some vegetables and a cleaver embedded in the chopping block, and then leapt to a hanging pot. Edalin and Thaelia were both yelling, but I wasn't paying any attention. Swing and RIP and out the window, glad most of them around were just oiled paper, if anything. I heard a crash and clang and clatter from inside, probably the pot I'd to assist me falling down. I lay sprawled in the dust for a second, then hopped up and darted around the corner to the storeroom and hid to catch my breath. I could hear arguing and yelling from inside, Edalin and Thaelia, then nothing. I peeked around the corner. No sign of Edalin. Good, I musta lost here. That'd show her.
"And where did you think you were going?" Edalin asked, from behind me. Crap.
What the hell. I ran for it. Didn't work, she tripped me and sent me sprawling. No fair, she's had more practice! "Why were you spying on me, you little brat?" Edalin asked, pulling me to my feet.
Wow, she was really taking this personally. REALLY personally. I blinked at her. "Who, me?" I asked, more confusedly than innocently, "Spying on you? What, because you're sneaking off to kiss Maurice?"
"Yeah, so? What business is it of yours? Now c'mon, you, you're gonna be in so much trouble when Mom finds out you snuck into the bar..." she said, changing the subject and trying to haul me off.
I sank my heels into the ground. Make her pick me up if she wanted to move me that badly. "Nuh uh! 'Sides, Mom doesn't care, she never said we couldn't go there!"
She rolled her eyes at me and tugged harder. "Well, DUH. Because she knows you're a brat and would run off just to see why she didn't want you to go there."
"See? She didn't say we couldn't go. Bet she'll be madder at you for running off to play wuvy duvy with dorky Maurice."
"Shut up, you little brat! If Mom were here..."
"Hi Mom," I said.
"Please," Edalin said, "I'm not gonna fall for that stupid trick and innocent expression. Now c'mon"
I just shrugged and let her tug me along when she turned around to try and drag me back to the house. And almost ran into Mom. Mom smiled. "How did I know when I heard yelling and crashing you two would be involved?"
"Because you knew where Cedric and Eliza were?" I offered.
Eliza froze in surprise, then shoved me back when I spoke. "Shush, brat. Hi, Mom. He snuck into the bar."
"I'd kinda guessed that much," Mom said.
Eliza came up then, leading Cedric. She had her "somebody's in trouble and it's not me and they deserve it" smirk on. "Ow," I said, and rubbed my shoulder, "You didn't need to do that. And I wasn't that sneaky. Nothing happened until you got all mad 'cause I saw you kissing Maurice and then you tried to kill me, anyway."
I'll try and finish it tomorrow and update this then with the end. There's only a little bit to go, but I'm gonna go fall over now.
I could hear the tavern from halfway across the village, singing, music, and assorted noise. As I got closer, I could start to make out a few voices. Sounds like everybody was partying, after getting back from whatever they'd gone to do. Good, and it was early too. That'd mean everybody who'd gone with Mom should still be there, and be awake. You pick up on some things pretty quick when you live near a bunch of "adventurers". Things like how long they can drink before they pass out, for one. Hey, kids aren't stupid.
Closer, I could make out actual voices. Well, a voice, the singing one. It was Patch, as usual. He might not have had a great voice, given years of being a mercenary and shouting and such, but he knew what he was singing, and was good at it. Nice cheerful upbeat music, unless you stopped and listened to the lyrics, which were almost always about people dying, or drinking until they passed out, or so on. You know, soldier's songs. I pushed open the door and slipped in carefully. Patch was perched on the bar, with his weird little ukulele. Never did find out where he got that. Skif, Lenny Four-fingers, and Llurdwurgle were accompanying him on other instruments. And most of the rest of the crowd was clapping, singing, or dancing. Mom'd probably slipped on ahead because she missed us. Besides, the party hadn't really kicked into full swing yet, the whole crowd, counting the musicians, couldn't have been more than a dozen people. Come evening, though...
"...and then I'll knock on 'is door, and when ole Death answers, I'll kick 'im in the shin and spit in 'is eye!" Patch sang. Then he looked directly at me, and winked. Drat. Thought I'd been so clever, over in the shadows. He musta seen the door open, nobody else was looking that way, luckily. Even so...
I moved, just in case anybody else'd seen where he looked, ducking under a nearby table. So, lesse. Mom'd gone off with Skif, Lenny Four-fingers, Phonar and his student, Tim, and...who else. Oh, yes, Thurg and his kid, Maurice. Maurice'd gone along to "prove his manhood" and suchlike, I thought. And he was only like four years older than me, I could probably get an answer out of him...
Now, if I were now officially an adult, where would I be? Somewhere else, probably. Then I heard somebody spitting and coughing over by the bar, then Thurg laughing above the noise. Yeah, drinking, that's where he'd be. I slipped out from under the table, to another table. One thing I've found, tavern floors are generally really unpleasant to be near, not that I have too much option. Gah. I mean, really, who leaves puddles of curdled booze on the floor, even if it's covered in sawdust and reeds? Great, now my shoe was squeaking, like it did when wet. Though I seriously doubted anybody else could hear it. There was one more empty table, over closer to the bar, so there I went. From here, I could see them. Yup, there was Thurg, laughing. Maurice was bent half off a stool, coughing, a couple other people nearby were chuckling. Probably wanted to prove he was all big and tough to his dad, and went for the Troll's Vomit.
Blearg, Samel only brewed that stuff in midwinter, several miles from town. And even then everywhere would smell worse than a tannery for at least a week. Stupid. Maybe he'd swallowed enough he'd tell me where Mom hid her backpack though. Thurg'd probably know too... and so would a bunch of other people here. Duh.
I got distracted from my pending interrogation when I heard the door open and spotted a familiar pair of shoes. Edalin. Crap, couldn't let her find me... hey, wait a second, what was she doing here? And then Patch finished his song, with a rousing "...and spit in 'is eye!"
Well, poop. Edlain hadn't seen me, but that'd make the idea of getting up on the table and asking "Anybody seen my Mom's backpack?" harder. She hadn't seen me yet, what with the whole being under the table thing and all, she was tall enough the tables actually blocked her view. I slipped back into more shadow anyway, just to be safe. What WAS she doing here, anyway? Nobody paid that much attention to her, I heard a couple of greetings, but hey. She'd been gone a few months and come back looking a good bit different. And there were a bunch of ferrets in the town, besides just us. But she headed over by Thurg and Maurice and sat down on a stool. Well, crap! How was I supposed to talk to them now?
Hmpf. I snuck back away from the bar a bit, over in the shadows by another table, just in case she'd spot me. Maybe I could sneak upstairs and search the rooms, Mom mighta hid the backpack in the tavern... THUNK!
I nearly jumped out of my skin at the THUNK from the table above me, as somebody set down a mug. Set's a rather soft term. And I did literally jump, and thumped my head on the bottom of the table. "Ow!" I shouted in a whisper.
And then I felt eyes on me and turned, holding my hand on my head. Ow. Patch was leaned sideways, looking under the table at me. Crap. "And what's a lad like ye doin' 'ere, eh?"
"I'm helping Mom!" I said.
"Oh, ye are, are ye?"
"Yup!"
"From under the table there?"
"Err..." Crap. "Yup!"
"I see then. Well, could ye come sit up 'ere, so an old man like me don't have to strain 'is ailin back?"
"Uhhh," I said stalling for time and sneaking a peek over toward the bar. Thurg had moved down to talk to the bartender and Edalin was talking with Maurice. She was looking the opposite way from me and laughing. "Sure," I said, scooting over and hopping up onto the bench on the far side of the table and keeping one eye on Edalin.
Patch looked over at me. "So yer mom sent ye 'ere?"
Patch, I should explain, was retired. Not from "adventuring", like a bunch of the people here. No, he'd served in several armies, depending on politics and pay and other stuff like that. He didn't tell war stories like some of the other vets, their were all glory and honor and bloody decapitations, the perfect things to enrapture kids' interest. Patches only ever told a few stories, and spent more time on the friends he saw die than on glory and honor. There were plenty of bloody decapitations and such, but they weren't the same. Just people dying messily. The only fight story he ever seemed to take any pleasure in telling wasn't a war, it was from when he got separated and lost in some jungle to the north.
He was lost, and this big critter attacked him, its claws ripped a big chunk of skin right off his shield arm. He tossed it off, and caught it across the jaw with his sword the next time it jumped at him. It coulda probably run, then, since he wasn't in any shape to chase. But it jumped at him again, right onto his sword. The only thing he could do about the big tear in his arm was cut a chunk of the critter's skin out and wrap it around as a bandage. By the time he got back, it'd grafted on. It was there still, he'd gladly show you the patch of long grey fur on his arm there, completely different than the rest of his short brown weasel fur. So, yeah, that's why he was called Patch. I always thought he was awesome.
"No, not exactly, but she lost something, so I'm gonna find it for her!"
Patch nodded, seriously. "And what'd she lose then, eh?"
"Her backpack. Looked all over and I can't find it."
"Ye can't, or she can't?"
I tried my best to look innocent. "Both."
"I see," Patch said, and I almost though he'd bought it, "So Lightfingers misplaced 'er backpack, and ye decided to be a good little son and find it for 'er, eh?"
"Yup," I said, relaxing slightly.
"So... why were ye skulking about under the tables, then, like ye were afraid somebody'd see ye?"
"Uhh..." I panicked, "because of her," I said, pointing at Edalin
And then I looked where I was pointing. Holy crap, what? Edalin was giving Maurice a kiss on the cheek? My jaw dropped. "Ah, it seems yer sister's found a lad she fancies," Patch drawled, apparently amused at my expression.
Maurice? What? Holy crap, Edalin just gave him a kiss? He's like three years younger than her... Then she looked my way. I ducked, but too late. "Forsyth!" she yelled. She does that a lot.
Crap. I heard the bar go quiet in the wake of her yell, then heard her jump down and saw her running toward my table, dodging around the chairs. "You are gonna be in so much trouble!"
Crap. I ran for the door. I heard Patch laugh behind me. "You are so not getting away, kiddo!" Edalin yelled.
We'll see about that, I figured I was faster than her. The crowd in the tavern started cheering us, hey, free entertainment. Being able to duck under tables and dodge stools is one of the benefits of being short, but I was still young, she was faster than me and had more practice, Edalin jumped off a table and landed in the door ahead of me. "You know Mom doesn't want you coming here!"
Actually, Mom hadn't said any such thing. Which was very wise of her, looking back on it. The best way to make sure we got into something was to tell us to stay out of it. Brats we were. Still are, some of us. Which is a good thing. I didn't think arguing minor details like that with Edalin was gonna do any good, older sisters are bossy that way. So, I skidded and turned, "accidentally" kicking a bunch of sawdust and straw up at her. And while she was shielding her eyes and coughing out the sawdust, I went from ground to stool to table, then jumped from table to table toward the bar and the back door. "'Scuse me, pardon me, thanks for the sausage," I muttered as I ran.
"You little brat!" she yelled. Some people never really were clear on the duties of younger brothers, she always overreacted like that.
Edalin wiped the sawdust from her eyes and bounced up after me, trailing occasional bits of straw. I had a good lead on her. Which disappeared when I was looking back at her and missed the jump. Even back then, I was pretty good, so I managed to turn the awkward sprawling thing into a roll that ended up with me practically back on my feet. Edalin was only two tables back, but I stayed on the ground, under the last two tables, and under the hinged part of the bar. I burst into the kitchen, the swinging door almost catching Edalin in the face. Whoops, she'd probably not have a sense of humor about that, either.
"HEY! Out of my kitchen!"
That'd be Samel's second wife, Thaelia, very nice lady, but a bit overprotective of her kitchen. Samel never mentioned his first wife, aside from saying it was a good thing he'd escaped from her diabolical clutches. Never did get him to specify how literally he meant that.
"Oh no, you're not looting my storeroom again!" Thaelia said, blocking the storeroom door.
And the back door, that was right next to it. Edalin burst in right then, drawing Thaelia's attention. I turned again, jumped up on the counter, dodged around some vegetables and a cleaver embedded in the chopping block, and then leapt to a hanging pot. Edalin and Thaelia were both yelling, but I wasn't paying any attention. Swing and RIP and out the window, glad most of them around were just oiled paper, if anything. I heard a crash and clang and clatter from inside, probably the pot I'd to assist me falling down. I lay sprawled in the dust for a second, then hopped up and darted around the corner to the storeroom and hid to catch my breath. I could hear arguing and yelling from inside, Edalin and Thaelia, then nothing. I peeked around the corner. No sign of Edalin. Good, I musta lost here. That'd show her.
"And where did you think you were going?" Edalin asked, from behind me. Crap.
What the hell. I ran for it. Didn't work, she tripped me and sent me sprawling. No fair, she's had more practice! "Why were you spying on me, you little brat?" Edalin asked, pulling me to my feet.
Wow, she was really taking this personally. REALLY personally. I blinked at her. "Who, me?" I asked, more confusedly than innocently, "Spying on you? What, because you're sneaking off to kiss Maurice?"
"Yeah, so? What business is it of yours? Now c'mon, you, you're gonna be in so much trouble when Mom finds out you snuck into the bar..." she said, changing the subject and trying to haul me off.
I sank my heels into the ground. Make her pick me up if she wanted to move me that badly. "Nuh uh! 'Sides, Mom doesn't care, she never said we couldn't go there!"
She rolled her eyes at me and tugged harder. "Well, DUH. Because she knows you're a brat and would run off just to see why she didn't want you to go there."
"See? She didn't say we couldn't go. Bet she'll be madder at you for running off to play wuvy duvy with dorky Maurice."
"Shut up, you little brat! If Mom were here..."
"Hi Mom," I said.
"Please," Edalin said, "I'm not gonna fall for that stupid trick and innocent expression. Now c'mon"
I just shrugged and let her tug me along when she turned around to try and drag me back to the house. And almost ran into Mom. Mom smiled. "How did I know when I heard yelling and crashing you two would be involved?"
"Because you knew where Cedric and Eliza were?" I offered.
Eliza froze in surprise, then shoved me back when I spoke. "Shush, brat. Hi, Mom. He snuck into the bar."
"I'd kinda guessed that much," Mom said.
Eliza came up then, leading Cedric. She had her "somebody's in trouble and it's not me and they deserve it" smirk on. "Ow," I said, and rubbed my shoulder, "You didn't need to do that. And I wasn't that sneaky. Nothing happened until you got all mad 'cause I saw you kissing Maurice and then you tried to kill me, anyway."
I'll try and finish it tomorrow and update this then with the end. There's only a little bit to go, but I'm gonna go fall over now.
