He walked on for a while longer and eventually reached Copperwell’s. As he suspected from the name, the sign boasted a well spun of copper metal with coins being tossed inside, seemingly for luck. When he pushed open the wooden doors to walk inside, he realized instantly that the only thing made of copper in the whole place were indeed the coins the owner collected from his patrons.
The tavern was a lowly place; dark, dreary, and dirty. Garinor’s nose crinkled with the scents of rotting meat and the sweaty men and women lingering there. Mustering his courage, he walked up to a rotund man wiping down a counter with a dirty rag.
“What’ll it be?” he grunted automatically, barely even looking at his guest.
“Er, I would like something to eat and perhaps a place to stay.”
“Eh?” he looked up then. “Just a boy? What, did Jimini send you?” he muttered in an exasperated tone. “You know, the gate guard?”
He nodded.
“Fine then, we’ll get you settled.” He shook his head and turned away without waiting for the silver coin. He returned with a mildly warm stew with things floating in it that Garinor dared not ask him to identify. He needed food, and so he scooped the spoon in and stirred the mixture before bringing it to his lips.
It tasted worse than the air smelled. It was all he could do not to spit it out. He tried taking air in and out of his mouth while he chewed, hoping to diffuse some of its horrid flavor, then swallowed pitifully, tears streaming from his eyes. The barkeep slammed a clay tankard on the table. It was full of somewhat murky water, but it helped to wash the slop down. Telling himself that this would be his first full meal of the day and he needed it, he managed to get down nearly the entire bowl before his stomach threatened him not to send in any more.
The barkeep refilled his tankard with the rusty water and Garinor drank half of it in one gulp. He wiped his mouth and pulled out the silver coin to pay for the meal.
But the barkeep didn’t take the offered coin, and merely shook his head with a sad expression making him look even uglier. “Poor lad, don’t even know a fake silver coin from a real one, do you? Nah, put it away, little one. Jimini’s my son, you see, and he takes pity on the likes of children like you. Fancies himself to be a blacksmith one day. That’s where he makes those tokens at night. But for now he’s got gate duty to earn a little bit for himself before he goes on to his dreams.”
A wistful glint entered his eyes and his voice softened. “Alright, alright, come along little one. You can stow away in the small room, but if I need it you got to scram like a thief caught in the act.”
Not appreciating being compared to a thief, Garinor left the fake coin on the counter and silently followed the portly barkeep up a narrow stairway, down a hall, and into a small cupboard in the corner.
“Usually little ones tuck up in here, but some pay real coins, you see. They get in ahead of you if they come. Understand?”
“Yes, and thank you. And if I can repay you somehow…”
The barkeep laughed. “You’re a good lad, but if you manage to work up a coin or two, you’ll need it. I’m fine on my own. Now hunker down and sleep before someone else needs this space.”
He obeyed, grateful for the chance to rest. It wasn’t easy getting comfortable, and not only because the cupboard wasn’t meant for a person. His stomach felt ready to eject the stew he had forced down. He pulled the cupboard door shut and breathed softly for a few minutes.
Moments later, loud footsteps thundered on the landing. Two women were muttering to themselves, but loud enough that Garinor could hear them.
“Such a murky hole in the ground. How do the governors even let this place exist?” said one.
“No idea,” said the other. “Only thing it’s good for is that it’s cheap.”
“Maybe, but from the smell, to the food, to the people, it’s just disgusting.”
“See, I knew I shouldn’t have brought you with me. You’ll never let me forget it.”
“You got that right,” said the first one. “Your fellow better be here soon, by the way. I don’t think I could stand this place for long. Why here, anyway?”
“You know why. His father would kill him if he knew we were meeting. It had to be somewhere he’d never find out.”
“Yeah, yeah. Well, this must be the one.” She tried a key in the door and it opened. “I’ll tell you, if I was as poor as you I would pick Erina’s over this dump any day.”
The last thing Garinor heard as the door closed was a heavy sigh and the words, “I know, you’re right. But, it wasn’t my choice though…” They continued talking for a long time, but Garinor’s weariness overtook him at last and he finally fell asleep.
He didn’t have a chance to rest for long, however. Less than half an hour later there was an uproar unlike anything he had ever heard. There were shouts and cries, screams of pain and triumph, and all the while the hearty crash of wood and pottery.
Roused from his slumber in the small cupboard, Garinor went to see what the commotion was all about. He trotted down the stairs and witnessed a raucous battle taking place.
Off to one side were two women, clutching each other fearfully. One of them sported a cut across her cheek, but she didn’t seem to realize it. In front of her was a good-looking young man facing off against a much older gentleman. The old man looked like he was somewhat wealthy, but the crazed look in his eyes made him seem bestial.
Garinor realized that the woman’s planned tryst hadn’t gone as she had hoped, but his real concern was that the place was dangerous. While those two faced off against each other, the other patrons had broken into their own brawls. Apparently someone had thrown something that splashed on someone else, and the victim was mistaken in identifying the culprit and so lashed out at the wrong target.
It was a full-fledged riot now, where chairs and tables were overturned and sometimes tossed into the air. Cutlery flew all around, and this of course was much more dangerous. A stray knife could do serious damage.
A shattering sound alerted Garinor to the old man’s next attack; he had broken a tankard on a table and he was swinging the broken shards at the young man, who was essentially unarmed, holding a serving tray before him to fend off the attacks, though he did this with a certainty that suggested to Garinor that he was well-trained in combat but didn’t want to hurt the enraged fool.
Though Garinor was safe where he stood for now, it was clear the bar fight was becoming more and more intense. If he didn’t find a way out of the place he might get swallowed into it and seriously hurt.
He glanced around for the barkeep, wondering why he wasn’t trying to put a stop to it. He was thoroughly surprised when he found the portly man behind his counter, not cowering or trying to get out of the way or trying to calm things down but goading on various encounters, either by crying out one man’s punch was for weaklings, or trying to incite the main instigators with insults about the young woman’s honor meeting in a place like this at all. It was a marvel that no one turned on him.
Garinor felt like people were fighting just for the sake of fighting. He hated seeing it, and more than that, the young man defended the girl he liked and worked hard not to harm her father, though the father used every dirty trick he could think of to get past the man’s defenses.
At last, Garinor had enough. He did the only thing he could think to do. He drew in a deep breath and screamed at the top of his lungs. He ran down the stairs, his arms flailing over his head. “Fire! Fire upstairs! Everyone get out! Hurry! Fire! Hurry!”
It was incredible how quickly the anger in the room vanished. It was even more incredible how fast the place emptied out. Even the barkeep was gone. The only ones remaining were the young man and the two women he was trying to protect. Everyone had shoved them out of the way in their haste.
The man saw Garinor and called him over, “Hurry boy, there’s a fire. Leave now!”
He trotted over, smiling. “There isn’t a fire, actually. You know, I can’t believe that actually worked!” He explained his little ploy and the four of them laughed.
“A noble heart, indeed, young knight,” said the man. The girl he was meeting thanked him by kissing his cheek and her friend followed suit. Garinor’s face burned red. “Go now, young friend,” said the man. “Seek out Erina’s place if you need lodging. This is no place for civil people.” He offered some basic directions.
“Thanks! And you know, I hope you can all make things work out.” With a smile, he left them and returned to the massive streets of Kallinoria, looking for Erina’s hostel.