Raising a Hero

Chapter 6

I worked the rest of the day waiting tables, cleaning rooms, and delivering tankards of mead with the straightforward proficiency I had mastered over the past two years of being broken. I could work through the apocalypse (at least, emotionally and mentally speaking) as though everything was normal if I had to. We'd been getting more customers over the past few days, according to Hal, so I did my best to keep up with the flow. I still hadn't gotten over the newness of working around people dressed in tunics and scars and swords being commonplace, so the distraction helped—not that I needed the distraction. I was fine. I was completely fine.

"You alright, miss?"

I glanced at the grizzly man who asked this as I set his meal and drink before him. I'd seen him every night since coming here, so I supposed he was a regular. It was hard to tell how old he was beneath his black beard a shaggy hair and brows.

I gave him my best business smile. "Why do you ask? Is there something amiss?" Yes, please, so I can fix it and bury it along with my shame and disappointment three hundred miles below ground.

"You ain't doing anything wrong," he said quickly, somehow reading my concerns. "Just...you seem a little down."

"Well, I can't be happy every day, but I'm doing well enough. It's kind of you to ask," I straightened, and since all the other customers were seen too and Milly hadn't shouted me back for something, I thought I had a moment to satiate my curiosity. "You're here every night. Is there no missus at home?"

"Nope," he said, popping the 'p' as he lifted his tankard. "Just me and the forge. And after a day roasting alive, the last thing I want to do is cook, so I figured Hal could use the extra coin, and it ain't like I got anyone to spend it on."

"Oo, you're a blacksmith? How impressive. I've never met one."

"Never met a..." he squinted his eyes at me. "I knew you looked mighty high class, but I didn't think you were that high. You a runaway noble, miss?"

"Oh, no, just...a sheltered merchant's daughter. Or use to be. Nothing special, promise."

He didn't look like he believed me, but took a moment longer to eye me up and down. Something behind me caught his eye and he scowled.

"A warning from a good neighbor to the friendly lass, don't be so willing to talk about yourself to a lonely bachelor like me. People might start getting ideas."

I glanced behind me, but only saw more patrons, mostly men, turned to their food, their conversations low murmurs. The women who came through always came with male travel companions.

Still, I blushed. It was yet another cultural faux pax I had yet to learn on my part.

"I'm sorry, I-I didn't mean to be, I'll just..."

He looked as though he were about to say something else, but I had turned and run off before he could.

But I didn't return to the kitchen or to the bar for more work. Instead, I went to the backdoor and out into the cobblestone courtyard. Closing the door quietly behind me, I hunched down on the steps and hugged my knees.

"So, big brother," I whispered. "Since I scared off your hero, does that mean I've failed and can come back now?"

A chilly night breeze pulled up goosebumps from my arms. Crickets creaked slowly, and the murmur of lives on the street and in the surrounding buildings rumbled along.

Since no big light came to sweep me away, I took that as my answer.

I closed my eyes and let the buzz of the life around me soak in. I could smell the faint scent of urine beneath the clean breeze. Besides that, this place could have been no different than anywhere else on my earth.