CHAPTER 2: THE PUB

Evening descends as hours pass. Eventually, I come across a crowded pub. Horses are tied to posts out front while their owners either are within the pub or tending to them.

Upon entry, I receive a lot of stares from the men; some look at me like I am not supposed to be there while others look at me with desire-filled eyes.

I ignore them as I find a table. As I do, my boots stick to the beer-sodden floorboards. Each step reminds me to wash my shoes once I leave so I will not attract ants. They must not have washed the floor for some time now, judging by how tacky it feels.

Evening sunlight pours in through the square shaped stained-glass windows, bathing the room in an amber glow.

At a table where a family is gathered, I spot an empty wooden bench. This family consists of a burly man, a scrawny male teenager, and a woman with a baby. I give an acknowledging nod, but only the woman smiles at me. The rest of them pay me no mind.

"May I sit?" I ask in their native tongue as I gesture to the empty bench.

The woman looks to the man for approval, receiving an approving grunt. She nods and gestures to the bench across from them.

"Thank you," I smile congenially as I take a seat.

Moments later, a heavyset woman with a dirty apron approaches me. "What would you like to eat?"

"Do you have any chicken?" I ask since I can smell something akin to roast chicken wafting from the kitchen. It mingles with the smells of sweaty people, ale, beef, pork, and the manure from the livestock and horses outside.

The server nods curtly and jabs a thumb over her shoulder. "Aye. The cook killed some a few hours ago. How would you like it? He is stewing and roasting them."

"Roasted, please."

She nods, turns, and leaves me.

A candle in the middle of the table flickers back and forth, casting even more amber lighting onto the table and the family across from me. The baby stares at the flame with profound fascination.

I wave to the baby and a giggle leaves his tiny mouth. He bounces up and down on his mom's lap with his strong little legs. He pounds the table with his palms as he continues to bounce.

"Shhh," his mom tries to quiet him, which I do not understand because the noise in here is already quite loud.

The woman proceeds to feed him small bites of porridge, which quickly quiets the babe. I use my amplified hearing to hone into the sounds around me. Some patrons are laughing, singing, arguing, or talking. Two men are having an intense conversation while I hear a man and woman talking quietly about a rendezvous.

Some drunkards in the far corner sway back and forth merrily with their ales in hand. A chuckle escapes me as I watch the humorous sight.

My eyes flit across the room's décor as I listen in further. The sizzle of butter crackles as the scraping of utensils against pots and pans comes from the kitchen.

The pub is made of wooden paneling and beams crossing overhead. Shields bearing the kingdom's name of Castrum hang on the wall across from the bar.

Heat warms my left side as it radiates from the roaring fire in the stone hearth. The crackle and pop come from the flames as they consume the wood stacked within. It too casts a warm amber glow.

My gray eyes are drawn upward toward the hanging chandelier alight with flames. Like the babe, I too am fascinated by the flickering of fire. It is mesmerizing in its own way.

It reminds me of the people I have met in my life with fire powers. What a shame I had not asked if I could copy their abilities.

While looking at the eatery's décor, I feel the heat abruptly disappear as someone roughly sits down on the bench beside me, jostling my body. I look over and see that it is Tiffany, carrying a plate of food and cup of mead.

At this point, Tiffany and I have been longtime friends. Although, she is one of those friends you talk to or see every few months or years. In our case, it's been decades. It has probably been one hundred and sixty-seven years since I have seen her.

I joyously reach for her as she opens her arms to hug me. Our hug is so comforting and welcoming.

Tiffany is a Baku, an Asian supernatural creature that consumes nightmares. Her being Asian and a woman has caused complications in certain countries since frequent travel is not yet widespread. Unfortunately, people continue to be prejudice, sexist, and racist. One day, I hope it will change and all people will be accepted regardless of race, status, gender, looks, and powers.

When we let go of each other, Tiffany scans me with her unusual dark blue eyes, taking in my attire. "Nice armor."

"Thank you."

"It is a surprise to see you here, Makenzi. Why are you in town?" Tiffany asks of me as she drinks from her cup.

"I stopped for nourishment, but I am here to visit a blacksmith. I received word that a few are near here."

Tiffany nods in understanding and affirmation. She combs her fingers through her long golden blonde hair before tossing it over one shoulder. Her appearance is not of normal Asian women, most having dark hair and dark eyes. "Yes, there are some blacksmiths and ironsmiths three buildings down."

"Thank you. I shall see them after I leave here. I was already trekking through Europe and thought I would also visit some friends and acquaintances. Have you seen Carissa and Megan Dragoneain? I hear they have been around these parts. " I say, wondering if they still live here.

Tiffany shakes her head. "Not that I know of, Makenzi." It is then she takes on a different manner and scoots closer to me. She leans down to whisper in my ear, but thinks better of it as other patrons pass us. Not to mention the family sitting at the table with us.

She switches to telepathy. "You best be careful in these parts, Makenzi. A battle is going on and the women have been captured by both the enemy and allies for prisoners of war. That, or are being used as concubines."

Since all supernatural beings can communicate telepathically, we are able to talk mentally instead of aloud.

Surprised to hear this, my eyes widen in disbelief. "Even by King Aldin?"

"No, King Aldin was killed and his son, Landry, succeeded him."

I pivot on the bench to face her better as we wait for my food. "How long has King Aldin been dead?"

"A few years now. Rumor has it that his son, Landry, killed his father to gain access to the throne."

"What is your opinion regarding Landry?" I ask.

"Landry is not suited to be king. He is ruthless and has a large appetite for satiating his own needs, regardless of what it costs others. He does not look out for the people, even though he claims to. He is merciless in battle as well. 'Tis a dark time to be in England, Makenzi."

"Is there any way I can assist in protecting the people of England?" I offer, feeling the need to help in some way.

She thinks a moment before stating, "There is a battle in three days' time. Would you be interested in fighting?"

Nodding, I say, "Of course, any way I can help, I will. But we are women, how will we fight in battle? It is not like they will let us fight alongside the men. Plus, we are not knights."

"I have plans for that. We shall fight under the cover of night, when men cannot easily see us. We can dress up in armor to hide our faces and feminine bodies."

The waitress returns with my plate of food and a mug of mead. She places them down on the wooden table in front of me.

"Thank you," I tell the waitress, but she simply nods and rushes off to attend to the next patrons.

"Do you need practice?" Tiffany asks with concern in her eyes.

I debate as I take out my knife to cut my chicken. "I try to constantly be ready for battle, but my fighting skills are a tad rusty. It would be wise and of great use to sharpen them." Breaking off a piece of bread, I take a bite and then a piece of chicken.

Tiffany looks around before replying, as if she is looking for someone. "Very well, let us meet in the woods, that way we are away from others."

"All right." I nod as I chew.

After we eat and get our fill, we leave the tavern. Before we leave, I stop at a vendor and search through my saddlebag. Fetching my hide coin purse, I hand the man a coin for some apples to feed my horse. Afterward, Tiffany and I make our way into the dense woods on our separate horses.