Chapter 3

The main street of the town was a mess. Rain had turned it into a strip of mud that sucked at his feet and threatened to pull his boots off with each step. Although he had expected to see wood planks laid out to make crossing the street less messy, there were none. It wasn’t even clean mud, but had manure from a variety of animals mixed in with it. The air was ripe with the odor of shit, spoiled food, and human activities.

In the middle of the town, a two wheeled cart pulled by an ox had sunk to its axle. Even the ox had sunk into the mud. It was struggling to pull the cart free while the drover was whipping it. The cart wasn’t the only one stuck in the mud. There were two others that were in just as bad of a situation, but the drovers had unhitched the oxen and led them away leaving the carts where they were until the rain stopped.

Sid couldn’t tell what the carts were carrying, but they must have been heavily loaded based on how they had torn up the street. What looked like a small puddle often turned out to be a deep hole created by an ox. The slick mud made slogging across the street difficult, but the holes and ruts made it nearly impossible.

A cold biting rain was falling, thoroughly soaking Sid as he trudged his way towards the closest inn. Although it was only across the street and four buildings down from the bank, it seemed like a long trip. By the time he reached the narrow strip of wood that served as a porch for the inn, his leathers were soaked and his boots were filthy.

He muttered to himself, “Not a very auspicious beginning for this adventure.”

He looked for, and found, a small metal stand next to the door of the inn. A pile of mud surrounded the stand giving a clue as to its purpose. He had observed another man using a similar stand in front of the bank. Sid went over to it and scraped his feet along a projection of metal removing the majority of mud that covered his boots.

He stood outside the inn for a moment before he commented, “Never thought about what it meant to have paved streets.”

There was no one to hear him since anyone with brains had stayed indoors. He opened the door and stepped into the inn. A sudden blast of smoky air brought tears to his eyes. A small fire in the fireplace appeared to be spewing more smoke into the room than out through the flue.

Pulling the door closed behind him, he paused to look around the room. The fireplace was along the right side of the room. There was a long table to his right and two long tables to his left. The seats were pairs of benches that ran half the length of the tables. There was a short counter at the back of the room. A short bald man stood behind the counter watching him. In a loud voice that could carry over a crowd, the man shouted, “Wipe your feet.”

Sid looked down and saw that he was standing on a horse hair mat. He wiped his feet a couple of times and then stepped away from the door. Seeing that the man wasn’t coming to greet him, Sid walked over to the counter. Upon reaching it, he said, “I need a room for the night.”

“Board?”

“Yes,” answered Sid since the only place to eat in town was the inn.

“Three quads for room and board for the night,” said the man with a grunt. He had already taken note of the fact that Sid carried a staff and a homemade one at that.

“Three?” asked Sid bothered by the unusually high price. The typical rate for a night in an inn was two quads. The price could run up to six quads for a night, but that was for a high-end inn located in a very large city. Looking around at the rough wood walls, simple tables, and pewter tankards it was obvious that this wasn’t a high-end inn.

“Take it or leave it. You leave it, you get to sleep in the rain,” said the man. For the first time since Sid had entered the building, the man smiled.

Sid grimaced at the sight and felt like telling the man that he shouldn’t ever smile. His mouth was filled with crooked teeth that were a sickening shade of yellow green. The man was disgusting and greedy.

Considering that there wasn’t much of a choice concerning where he could stay the night, Sid bowed to the inevitable. He pulled out his coin purse and removed three quads. Handing them to the man, he said, “The room had better be clean at these prices.”

“Clean enough,” replied the man as the coins disappeared. Gesturing to the hallway to his left, the man said, “The room is the first one on the left.”

“Got one further from the public room?” asked Sid thinking that a few loud drunks in this room would keep him awake the whole night. Even putting some distance between him and the public room wouldn’t assure a good night’s sleep. The odds were pretty good that he’d have to share the room with others and one of them was bound to snore.

“Only got one room,” answered the barman with a chuckle.

“Pitcher of watered wine,” requested Sid, realizing that he was not going to get much sleep that night.

“That’ll be two pinches,” answered the barman giving him the same creepy smile.

Before the words had even left his mouth, Sid had swung his staff in an arc and slammed the length of it flat on the counter with a loud bang. There was less than a half an inch between the staff and the barman’s hand that had been resting on the counter.

Growling in a low voice, Sid said, “Don’t play those games with me.”

The speed and ease with which Sid had swung the staff surprised the barman. He was talking and then the next thing he knew the staff had struck the counter right next to his hand. Looking down at the staff, it was clear to the barman it was exactly where Sid had wanted it to be. He had barely seen the young man move.

The barman was used to a rough crowd and prided himself on being able to spot the customers who were likely to make trouble. Belligerent drunks weren’t usually a problem. While they were busy swaggering around, he’d just hit them up side the head with his club. They weren’t dangerous, just loud. The dangerous ones were the quiet men trained in the use of weapons.

The barman reevaluated Sid and decided that the young man was to be treated with a lot more respect. In as calm a manner as possible, he moved his hand away from the staff and said, “I believe I may have misspoken. The ... ah ... price of the room and board includes two pitchers of watered wine.”

Sid smiled as he replied, “I thought that might the case.”

Turning away from the counter to fill a pitcher with watered wine, the barman eyed his club which rested under the counter. Glancing back at Sid, he noticed that the young man was once again holding his staff in the same easy manner as before. Deciding it would be better not to try anything, he went ahead and poured a pitcher. After grabbing a pewter tankard, he returned to the counter and set them both down.

Sid carried the pitcher and tankard over to the table near the fireplace. His clothes were still wet and he wanted to get dry. He positioned the bench so that he was seated with his back to the wall, straddling the bench. There was no way that he was going to sit with his back to the barman or in a manner in which it was difficult to stand. His placed his staff so that it leaned against the wall within easy reach.

He filled the tankard with some of the watered wine and took a sip. Much to his surprise, it was a high quality watered wine. He settled in for a long wait. It would be several hours before dinner was served and hours after that before he could head to bed. Until then, there was nothing for him to do except wait and think about how he was going to complete this adventure.

Looking around, Sid considered his situation. He was less than a hundred yards from the Damsel in Distress and he still had no idea how to rescue her. The man holding her was very dangerous. It made sense that he was skilled with a weapon. One didn’t earn enough to retire to a house in a city at such a young age without using a weapon to achieve such wealth.

The time passed with him thinking and drinking his wine. Deep in his thoughts, Sid was only peripherally aware of others entering the public room. The noise level slowly rose until it was too loud to think. Looking around, he examined the individuals who had joined him in the room. More than a dozen individuals were crowded around the other two tables. Most wore knives, but two were carrying clubs and one wore a sword.

Sid noted with a smile that his table remained empty of company. A few individuals turned to look him over, but quickly returned to their conversations when they noticed he was watching them. Based on the attention that he was getting, Sid wondered how many strangers came to this town. He thought it was likely that the recently deceased Hero had been the last stranger to visit.

Sid poured the last of the watered wine into his tankard. It only filled about a quarter of his cup. He took a sip and looked over at the barman positioned behind his counter. In Chaos, the barman never left the safety of the bar since customers were expected to come to him to get their drinks. Some of the bigger inns might have a barmaid who would serve the customers, but those kinds of places were rare.

A small scuffle broke out between two men with clubs. Sid watched as the larger of the two men pushed the smaller in his direction. The smaller man appeared to stagger backwards with his arms windmilling as if to maintain his balance. Sid grabbed his staff while standing to move. Without pause or hesitation, he moved to stand in front of the fire while watching the other man. At the last moment, the smaller man turned towards where Sid had been sitting. His club was raised in the air in a perfect position to descend on a person sitting at the bench. The man’s face showed his surprise that Sid was no longer there.

The man slowly turned until he faced Sid realizing that his trick had been anticipated. He took in the relaxed stance and casual manner in which Sid held the staff. After shooting a glance at the larger man, he said, “Sorry, we got a little carried away with our argument. Didn’t mean to frighten you.”

Sid laughed and shook his head at the audacity of the man. At the sound of his laughter, the others in the room got very quiet. Sid looked over at the larger man, observing that he had actually taken a step back. He said, “I wouldn’t argue with your friend anymore if I were you. You never know what kinds of accidents will happen when you argue with friends.”

“Yeah, you’re probably right,” said the man as he edged over to the other side of the room. He understood the implied threat.

“Nothing probable about it,” said Sid with a smile. It wasn’t a very friendly smile.

The man returned to the other side of the room as fast as he could make it without turning his back on Sid. When he reached the side of the larger man, he stopped. The larger man put a hand on his friend’s shoulder and said, “It might be a good idea for us to go now.”

“Yeah, I think so, too,” said the smaller one.

After the two men left, Sid went over to the table and picked up his empty pitcher. Every eye watched him as he carried it over to the bar. Upon reaching the counter, he asked, “When’s dinner?”

In the silence of the public room, the voice of the barman was overly loud as he answered, “When ever you want it.”

“I’ll take it now,” replied Sid. He leaned against the bar giving him a clear view of the room and the barman. The room watched him.

“Bird or beast?” asked the barman.

“What manner of beast?” asked Sid knowing that beast could refer to any meat, including mutton, goat, pork, venison, and beef.

“Rabbit,” answered the barman.

“Sounds good to me.”

Refreshed from a full night’s sleep, Sid woke alone in the room of the inn. No roommates had disturbed his sleep and the public room had been exceptionally quiet once he left. Sitting up in the bed, he stretched and yawned. For a half second, he started to search for his boots, but recalled that he had slept with them on. The last thing he wanted was to have to run out of the inn in the middle of the night barefoot.

Standing up, he looked down at the bed. He had expected a bed frame with ropes upon which a straw mattress infested with all kinds of biting vermin would rest. That kind of bed was the source of the saying, ‘sleep tight, don’t let the bed bugs bite.’ In the dark of the previous night, he hadn’t been able to make out many details about it. Now in the light of morning, he could see how the bed was actually constructed. A thick heavy denim-like material had been cut into strips and woven together to form the sleeping surface. The ends were held tight to the frame by hooks. It reminded him of one of those aluminum lawn chairs with the woven vinyl straps.

Under the bed was a chamber pot. Since the inn didn’t have a privy and he didn’t feel like pissing out the back door, he decided to use the chamber pot. Finishing his business, he put the cover back on the chamber pot. Now that his bladder was empty, his stomach demanded food.

Sid wandered out of the bedroom and into the public room in search of food. A plate of cheese and several small loaves of bread had been placed on the table where he had waited the night before. Setting his staff down by the table, Sid turned his attention to the food. Rather than a metal knife, there was a wooden knife laid across the block of cheese. He cut off a chunk cheese and grabbed one of the loaves of bread.

The barman watched him from behind his counter. He shouted, “I’ve got hot tea.”

Carrying his staff under his arm, Sid took his cheese and bread over to the counter. Leaning against it, he said, “I’ll take some tea.”

While the barman went to get the tea, Sid took a bite out of the cheese. For Sid, cheese came in two major flavors - American and Swiss. This was neither and most closely resembled Edam. He found he liked it and decided he would have to explore Earth cheeses upon his return.

The barman returned with a pewter tankard of hot tea. Sid looked at the tankard and asked, “You serve tea in Pewter?”

Shrugging, the barman answered, “It’s cheap and it doesn’t break.”

The comment reminded Sid of the fact that Pewter had been the plastic of the distant past on Earth. At the same time, an image of Clint Eastwood in one of his spaghetti westerns flashed through his mind. He smiled as an idea came to him. Picking up the hot tankard, he took a sip of the tea. The barman waited expecting Sid to return to his table.

Instead, Sid asked, “Is there a blacksmith in town?”

“Sure, he’s up at the end of the street,” answered the barman surprised by the question. The previous night, Sid had sat alone at his chair without talking to anyone.

“Is there a place where I can get a pewter plate?”