Jed's Tale

Splinters and dust billowed into a small cloud, obscuring a heap made up of two men. One lay in the remnants of an old bar table while the other knelt on top. Sern, the upright of the two, reached down with his meaty hands and seized the fallen by his coat lapels. With a grunt, he smashed his victim down again into the debris. A loud groan issued forth from the fallen man, who began to shake his head slightly as if trying to clear it. Wiping his eyes clear of dust and scraggly gray hair, he blinked as if to refocus and stared up into his assailant's eyes.

"Yer not too shabby fer a lad, but me thinks yer still a wee bit soft," the man croaked through labored wheezing. Sern, who previously hesitated to survey his handy work, scowled and bawled his fist. With a quick snap of the wrist, the young brute whipped his fist across his captive's face. Blood spurt from between the chapped lips of the old man, flecking on the tavern floor to his side. A malicious grin cut the pockmarked youth's face in half, but abruptly disappeared. A bloodied toothless smile interrupted his mirth.

"What be the racket in there?" a husky voice bellowed from beyond a nearby doorway. Sern straightened abruptly in surprise, his dark eyes fixating towards the source of the disturbance. Only he and the fallen man displaced the solitude of the side room. Streams of sunlight from the high tavern windows filtered down through the dust in the lazy hours of the afternoon. The dust parted and swirled as a stocky man entered in through the only portal.

His face trimmed with a thick beard and his crown covered with a messy bush of curly hair, the man surveyed the room with a look of displeasure. A solid leather apron hung from around the man's neck, sloppily tied around his waist and covered in various stains. A dark blue tunic rested under the apron, rolled up to the sleeves to show two hairy arms crossed in displeasure. "Sern, you scoundrel! I should have guessed!"

"Well lookie here. Jed burning Rogth in the flesh, the bloody hero of Telon," Sern spat while standing and releasing the fallen man's lapels. He seemed to be a gloomy yet oppressive sight, a boy with the body of a man but clearly not the face of one. His long brown hair hung limply down the sides of his pitted face, greasy snakes covered in whitish flecks of dust. "I was just'a have'n meself a drink with me good fellow here."

Jed's brow furrowed, his face turning crimson in anger. "I have had quite enough of your tiresome company, boy, and for the last time! Get your sorry hide out of my tavern!" Sern flushed in anger, his dark eyes glittering. Despite the cool of the late afternoon breeze, droplets of sweat appeared on Jed's temples.

"Ya had enough with me?" Sern repeated loudly. "You bloody old man. I be pay'n yer coin, so ya best be let'n me stay." For a moment Jed's mouth dropped in shock, however he quickly recovered. With each passing moment Jed's face grew darker red, until it some could have sworn it resembled a beet.

"Why . . . you . . . never in all . . . how dare you speak so boldly to me?!" Jed retorted in his flustering. "I will have you tossed in the brig for this! Lhymn?! Lhymn you sorry excuse for a guard, get in here!"

"What, the high and mighty lord of New Taganor canna seem to handle fer himself?" Sern retorted with a snort. His face twisted into a wicked sneer. "Perhaps ya would like ta here from ma da? I am sure ya would like fer him to come an check up with ya?"

They say if you were to see old Jed's face at that moment, you would have sworn he up and died. For in that very moment all the blood drained from his square face, leaving behind only fear and worry. "Leave your father on the way, lad. That is hardly your concern."

Sern's evil smile broadened more, if possible, into a wicked arc resembling a deadly pendulum, sweeping slowly down on its victim. Whereas before he stood slouched, angry and uncertain, Sern now stood upright like a king bird, proud and cocky. He slinked forward, staggering slightly from the effects of mild intoxication. Jed shrank upon the large youth's approach, his face flickering between uncertainty and outrage. With unrestrained drunken youthfulness, Sern shoved Jed against the wall.

"Yer a coward, old man," Sern hissed. "And a . . ." A loud crash cut the ill-fated speech in half, as fragments of hard ceramic rolled down the side of the boy's head. Confusion faded away from Sern's face as his eyes gently rolled up into his head. Slowly he dipped, falling faster as his knees buckled until he lie in a heap at Jed's feet. For a moment Jed could only stare, releasing the air caught up in his lungs. Abruptly awareness entered into him, causing him to cast his eyes upward until he caught the bloody grin of an old, sun-worn man.

"Terribly sorry about the mess, good sir," the man began, "It is not being my intention for this brutish lout to come an' smash in up this fine Tavern." For a moment Jed merely blinked, as if to comprehend what just occurred. The old man paused, his forehead creasing in worry. An unexpected shout from Jed startled the old man, who jumped abruptly.

"Tiller, Mayflim!" Jed called out loudly, and within the moment to rather homely looking women arrived. Each wore a simple serving dress of simple cut, made of sturdy brown wool. With much shock their mouths dropped as they entered, their eyes growing wide as they surveyed first the snapped and smashed table. Without considerable effort their eyes grew even large as they scanned the crumpled head that had once been the proud Sern.

"Tiller," Jed snapped. "Clean this mess up, I don't want our patrons to see this when they start filling in for their drinks tonight." Tiller curtsied, closing her mouth and murmuring something indiscernible. Her eyes, however, remained large as she scurried over to the table. "Mayflim, I need to you to go find Master Lhymn. Don't gawk, girl, be quick on your feet!"

Jed watched the second maid leave and then once again focused on the old man. For the first time he appraised him and couldn't help but why Sern even bothered to hassle him in the first place. Appearing old and worn, the man hunched slightly in his age. His scraggly hair hung around his face, while wiry whiskers framed the lower portion of his face. It seemed apparently obviously that man spent considerable amount of time in the sun, as his skin carried the quality of dry, cracked leather. And then, of course, there as the matter of that bloody mouth.

"Yes, I suppose it wasn't," Jed replied with a sigh. "Of course I'll be asking you to leave, course after you be fix'n yourself up." The man looked nothing more than a beggar, his clothing tattered and worn. One could have easily supposed Jed pitied the man, as his face softened in compassion.

"Ah then! A mighty fine offer have ya given me, and I heartily accept!" the man replied boisterously, his bloody grin returning. "Allow me to introduce meself, I be Grod Laith Al . . ."

"JED!" a voice roared in prelude, right before a tall man burst through the door. "Jed, er, Master Jed! I apologize profusely for being detained, but it wa . . . what in all that is Holy happened within this room?!?"

Jed slapped the large man on the back of his conical helmet, and immediately reached back his hand from the stinging pain of flesh slapping against hardened metal. Frowning like a scolded puppy, the large man shook his head slightly to clear the ringing out of his ears. "Lhymn, you knot-headed barbarian!" Jed fumed. "Where in the bloody depths of . . . nevermind! Get this child out of here! Drag him out to the alley or something . . . oh, I don't know . . . just rid him from my presence!"

Lhymn blinked for a moment and then looked down. He looked formidable enough, if not young and lost in a way. While wearing the garb of the New Taganor guard, Lhymn commanded respect from the common folk. However anyone who got close to the blond youth could easily pick out his boyish exuberance. "Ah smoke and soot, Jed. This do be Sern again. Why not let me take him down to the garrison and lock him up for a spell? That would teach him lessons that he would soon not be forgetting!"

"Nevermind that," Jed snapped, looking somewhat abashed. "He had a tad much drink. Just sack him, and toss him out!" Lhymn blinked again, and then merely shrugged. In one sweeping, graceful motion he picked up the crumpled body of Sern and tossed him over his shoulder as if he were merely a sack of grain. With a nod Lhymn glided out of the room, gone.

"It's a small wonder I leave the guarding to the city," Jed muttered under his breath. "If only it were in my favor to have the choosing. Why a slew of my own men would I have here." A clearing of the throat drew Jed from within his musings, and the bartender looked up to consider the old man whom up until waited patiently for the bartender to rectify the situation. "Ah yes, you. Well we can not have you dripping blood all over my planks, now can we? Follow me, Master beggar, and we will get you a cloth for that mouth, we shall."

With a nod Grod followed the hairy bartender into the next room. Being considerably larger than the side dining area, the tavern hall remained full of dust marked by streams of light from the outside windows. Various tables dotted the tavern floor, each worn and stained from many night of raucous drinking. Thick wooden columns held the rafters above, which in turn held the high arched ceiling. Wooden chandeliers with unlit candles hung lazily in the air, waiting eagerly to begin burning candle light for the following night. Jed and Grod walked up to a short bar with a tall shelf of various ales and brandy kegs, as well as the occasional bottle of wine.

Stepping behind the bar, Jed motioned for Grod to take a seat on one of the stools. As Grod sat, Jed reached down behind the counter and rummaged through various bins. With a grunt in a gasp he stood up, a stained cloth in his hand. "Here," he said. "Use this to wipe that blood from your mouth." Grod obliged with a nod of the head, and begin to rub his mouth with the cloth. A few moments passed as Grod scrubbed and Jed straightened his bar, preparing for the nightly patrons.

"Twas heaps of treasure."

"What's that?" Jed responded a bit startled. He stopped wiping the counter and locked eyes with the old man. A determination and fire seemed to fill his eyes as he stared back at Jed, and then just as abruptly as he had spoken he looked upward into the sky as if lost in thought. Almost as soon as Jed had dismissed the event as his imagination, Grod spoke up again.

"Twas heaps of treasure he do be after. Mine, ya know."

Jed looked Grod in the eye, noting that the seriousness which lined his voice lingered in his eyes. "Are you well, master beggar? You do seem to be talking peculiar."

"What, you don't think a fellow like me is rich?" Grod retorted with a spasmodic cough. Fresh droplets of blood appeared again in his mouth and began to scrub with the already blood stained cloth. "There I be, a tell'n the young patsy a tale of grand adventure, an' in me big hurry I done an' told him about me treasure. Why then he go and started to get all jumpy, asking me all sorts of questions and then tak'n me down we I gone an' spat him. Ha!"

"You should not have been riling that lad up," Jed uttered. "He is has a temper, he does. And a red hot one at that, hotter than a blacksmith's fire."

"So why ya be lett'n tha boy go an' trounce all over ya," Grod inquired quickly, his leathery face turning upward in curiosity. Jed hesitated for a moment, and then quickly started rubbing the counter top again."

"Now that be none of your business, master beggar," Jed snapped. Abruptly he stopped rubbing and stared at the man. Grod's mouth showed no trace of blood. Apparently the old man had done a rather good job at scrubbing them. Despite that his teeth remained crooked and stained. "And now that your face be clean, I'd kindly defer on you to be on your way."

"Now ya be paus'n for a moment, young master," Grod interjected. "I do need to be repay'n for try'n ta save a lowly soul such as my own. An' what better way to be show'n me gratitude than to be shari'n a grandiose tale of bravado, one such you have never heard the likes of!"

"A tale of adventure?" Jed snorted. "What rubbish. Go speak of it to the other drunkards, perhaps one them might bend their ears to hear such fanciful nonsense." Jed began scrubbing the counter again, even harder than before.

"Twas no nonsense, that be sure!" Grod exclaimed. "Why I be a great adventurer, an' a member of the Fethril Leaf Company. Before you were even a sucking child me an me mates be travel'n around slay'n dragons and beasts of the sort! An that's when I do find me treasure, the greatest treasure!"

"Old man," Jed responded flatly. His cloth in his hand remained still once more. "I daresay that I gave up on nonsense and adventure when I was merely a wee lad. Such thing nary exist anymore - I dreamed of traveling and searching far away lands for fortune, romance and adventure. And then life did come around, and said to me to become a man. And so I did."

"Eh, you do be call'n this a man?" Grod asked. "Why ya nothi'n much, lad. A shell, a ship who did lose it's wind, me wagers. I would tell ya a tale of once such that'd put so much wind in yer sails, you'd drift halfway around Telon and back again. I tell ya what, lad, you do be pour'n me a glass of that there brandy, and me and I will tell ya a tale you'll never be a fergett'n!"

Jed chuckled mirthlessly. "I did suppose drink would be coming up, master beggar." Jed paused for a minute, frowned and then smiled sadly. "It does appear that you have rendered me a great disservice this day, I suppose I could listen to you humor my ears while I work a way to still this wonderful calamity." Jed reached up to the shelf and pulled down a brownish, worn tankard. Walking purposely over to one of the kegs, Jed expertly filled the tankard and the slid it down the counter, Grod plucking it from its path.

"Aye, I knew you would come an' see it me way. Ah where to begin . . ." Grod took a sip from the tankard. "Ah, good ale, this do be. Yes, right, thar we were . . ."