A Servant Lost (Alys Book #1)

Chapter 26

Several weeks went by before there was another more serious incident while working at the tavern.  This time, Alys had managed to wriggle away from a drunk before Thoren had to intervene, but it had shaken her up.  She rubbed the bruise forming on her arm from the event the night before absent-mindedly as she carried a bucket of hot soapy water to the tables in the back of the tavern. Thoren was working in the store room, moving barrels and organizing.  Alys scrubbed at the tabletops with an energy that surprised her. But the more she thought about the man who had grabbed her the night before, the harder she worked.

She was tired of it all; tired of working with unpleasant men, tired of being treated like a possession, tired of being at the mercy of every man she ran into.

But, would it be different if I were still at Tarkam Palace?

Yes. She would be safer, of that she was sure. But would she be happy? No. Not with all the painful memories everywhere she turned. Not while she watched Dastrehan marry another woman and have children.

No, she was better off in a tavern braving brutish men. Her pride might be hurting, but her heart was better off here.

Alys finished the tables and brought the bucket of cooled, dirty water to the back exit to toss it out. As she came back in, she almost bumped into the Thoren.

"Sorry."

The man moved to the side to let her come in from the cold and cleared his throat.

"Uh, actually, I was coming to find you."

Alys deposited the empty bucket in the storage room and grabbed a broom. She looked at the pub master to show that he had her attention.

"I've been doing some thinking 'bout the troubles you've been having with the men here at night."

Alys looked to the side impatiently, wishing he would spit out whatever it was he was going to say so that she could get on with her work; she intended to take a trip to the orphanage before she had to come back to work in the evening. The man was considerably older than her, maybe somewhere in his middle thirties. His hair was just starting to thin on the top, but it was still a dark brown like his well-kept beard.

"I know I don't know nothing about your story, but it seems to me that you don't have a husband or family you belong to, since you've been here for more than a season by yerself."

Alys dropped her gaze and felt her defences start to rise. She knew where this was going.

"I don't enjoy watching a young lady like yerself being treated like some kind of animal by the drunks at night. But there's only so much I can do, without driving my customers away."

Alys stared at the worn-out floorboards by the man's feet, unsure where he was going with his little speech. It was more than evident to her that Thoren had to make his moves carefully around the men of the pub; she understood that. She did not blame him for their conduct.

"You know what I mean?"

Alys nodded automatically, not sure what she was agreeing to, but she wanted him to continue so that she could get this conversation over with and get back to her work.
"We both have needs; you need protection, and I need a wife."

Alys felt her stomach do a familiar dip at his words; the same response she had had to Brom. She could not make herself meet his eyes.

"I don't want to marry-" she moved to walk away, to escape.

"Miss," The pub master turned to face her as she walked away.  She stopped with her back turned to him.

"I'm not going to try to try an' talk you into it. I just want to say what was on my mind. Think on it? You'll still have work here if you say no."