Nancy strolled across the vacant common room. The wooden floor had been swept and mopped. All the chairs were in place and all the tables as well as the bar had been wiped clean. No matter how neat the place was there was always the same odor hanging over everything; a stale mix of ale and sweat and cheap perfume.
“I see Alice has cleaned up,” Nancy said as she leaned over against the bar. “Where is she right now?”
“In the kitchen helping,” Elsa said.
The rotund woman was the owner of the Inn of Lost Sighs. She was a thick, plump woman with more grey in her hair than blonde. Her arms were ham hocks and her breasts shapeless masses of fat. Looking at her now it was hard to imagine she had once been a beauty, but she’d made enough money on her back to buy the Inn and had made a healthy profit with it. Every meal and mug of ale that was served was a coin that went straight in her pocket. The girls were allowed to bargain for their services and charge whatever they pleased, but every time a man went upstairs the accompanying girl owed Elsa thirty copper traks. On top of that, the girls had to pay a monthly rent for their rooms. Elsa loved to tell people she had never lost money on any deal.
“So the slave is in the kitchen is she?” Nancy asked with an impish grin. “Any chance she can stay back there?”
“We don’t keep slaves.” Elsa said. “She’s an indentured servant.”
“What’s the difference?”
“They’re less expensive but more trouble.”
Nancy chuckled at just how seriously Elsa had answered. “I really wish she just stayed back there.”
Elsa shook her head slightly making her double chin wobble. “Better for you, but not for me.”
“I don’t see what’s so special about her.”
“In that case you’re the only one.”
“She’s just the barmaid. Why does she get so much attention?”
“You’d have to be blind not to know the answer to that.” Elsa sounded bored. “Just be grateful she’s too stupid to put that body of hers to proper use. There’s food ready, do you want to eat now while we’re empty?” Elsa charged her girls full price for their meals too.
Nancy was considering it when the front door opened and their first customer of the day arrived. He was dressed in work clothes and a pair of worn leather boots. He was clearly not a big spenders. The Inn of Lost Sighs got its share of commoners who could afford a girl’s services perhaps once a month. They would mostly come by just to look and to drink.
Recognizing the man, Nancy straightened up and offered him an inviting smile. His name was Harold Brauer, a cooper who owned his own shop and employed a few workers. He wasn't rich by any means, but could afford to share some of his silver with a pretty girl now and again.
This was the reason Nancy liked to get up early.
Harold closed the door behind him and walked up to the bar. His eager eyes went right past her. “Is Alice not here?”
That simple question soured Nancy’s mood and made her resentment rise up like bile in her throat. Every damn time! It never changes!
“Alice!” Elsa shouted. “We have a customer! Come out and serve him!”
“Coming!” A voice answered from the back.
Harold jutted out his chest, sucked in his gut, and did what he could to wipe off the sawdust from his work clothes. It made Nancy want to scream.
She slid over to him and fanned her fingers over his chest. She leaned in and asked huskily, "Don’t you know Alice won’t do anything for you? Why not spend your time with me instead? You won't regret it. I promise."
Harold pulled away from her, and took a couple steps along the bar, as if afraid of being caught. “No, it’s all right; I just want to see Alice.”
“Of course you do,” Elsa said with a knowing smirk. “Who can blame you?”
The kitchen door swung open and out stepped the twenty year old Alice. She was dressed as a barmaid, with a proper skirt with a hem down her to her feet, and a plain cotton blouse that seemed to strain just to contain her large and magnificently firm bosom. Her clothes did not expose any skin, but fit tight and revealed a set of shapely curves. She had long straight hair the color of fire and eyes the color of amethyst. Her skin was alabaster, and her face almost angelic in its flawless beauty. Her hips swayed slowly and rhythmically with each step and her tread was utterly smooth and graceful. Alice was simply stunning, with a figure and face that put Nancy, and every other girl who worked here, to shame.
Nancy stood on the tips of her toes, arched her back, and flouncing her hair, it was still not enough to distract Harold as his eyes gorged on the barmaid. If she suddenly burst into flame she doubted Harold would even notice.
Alice smiled with perfect white teeth and spoke with a warm lilting voice. “What can I do for your darling?”
“Marry me,” he said sounding only half joking.
Alice gave a low playful laugh and lightly patted his arm. (Nancy noted that he didn’t try and get away from her touch.) “I’m sorry darling, but I’m not free to marry. I have an owner.”
“Employer not owner,” Elsa said. “She is indentured and can’t marry or leave my employ without permission.”
“What would I have to do to get your permission?”
“Be richer than Sir Lancel Griffinheart .”
Harold’s eyes widened at the mention of that name. The Griffenhearts were related to the ruling family and among the richest and most powerful nobles in Lothas. Harold made a good living and earned about a hundred silver dalters a month; or the equivalent of five gold ducats. Sir Lancel could spend that in a single night and not even notice.
At the mention of Sir Lancel Alice gave an involuntary shudder.
“Haven’t you heard?” Nancy said brightly. “Sir Lancel has visited us a few times and he has his eyes on our barmaid.”
“You mean he wants to marry her?” Harold’s voice was heavy with disappointment.
“Marry?” Nancy chuckled and shook her head.
Alice cleared the matter up. “Sir Lancel doesn’t want me for a wife. He wants me to be his mistress, he has six or seven already. All he wants is to put me up in some nice house out of the way where he can visit me when he likes.” She shut her eyes and another slight shudder passed through her.
“And what’s so wrong with that?” Nancy demanded. “You’ll have a large house with servants and beautiful clothes and a nice allowance to spend how you please. And all you’ll have to do is lie on your back or get on your knees maybe once or twice a month. That sounds like a pretty sweet life to me.”
“I wouldn’t be loved.”
“Yes you would, in all sorts of ways.”
"Lust isn't love," Alice said primly. "The things you do upstairs have nothing to do with real love. Devotion, caring, and selflessness... that's what real love is."
“What would a virgin like you know about real love?” Nancy demanded. “Have you really grown up here? How can you still have such silly notions? You don’t know anything about what happens between men and women.”
“I know enough. The Inn has always been my prison, and I know what men are like.”
“I would call it your home and your place of employment.” Elsa said with a grunt.
“When you are never allowed to leave it’s a prison.”
“If you want to leave so badly pay me what you’re worth.” Elsa said.
XXX
Alice lowered her head. She’d been working here since she was old enough to walk. She’d started with small errands and tasks. Then worked in the kitchen, stoking the fires, chopping, cutting, washing dishes, and learning to cook. She would sweep and mop and wipe down tables and clean out the privy. When someone vomited she would take care of that too, all without pay. An indentured servant got food and a place to sleep; nothing more.
When she had turned thirteen, puberty had struck hard and her body had started to fill out. The men had started to notice, and though she was still young Elsa tried to turn her into a Soiled Dove.
<
br /> That had turned out to be a horrible mistake.
Elsa had been forced to make her the barmaid instead. Men, such as Harold, came just to stare at her and try and talk her into taking their silver. She always refused, and despite Elsa’s threats, never took a man upstairs or offered anything more than a smile or kind words.
She had started to finally earn money though. Customers would tip her in hopes of winning her affection. Elsa actually permitted her to keep those tips, as they helped motivate her to be as charming to the customers as possible. Alice had saved up quite a bit of money, but nowhere near enough to buy her freedom.
“If you would just open your legs up you’d earn enough gold in a few years.” Elsa said.
Alice felt her stomach turn. Growing up here she’d known what kind of animals men could be. They were filled with lust and treated the women as nothing but meat. There was nothing special in it at all, nothing beautiful. To Alice what happened behind the closed doors was vulgar and ugly.
When her body had filled out they had turned dirty eyes to her, followed by dirty hands. The thought of being used like that disgusted her. The first time Elsa had tried to force a customer on her Alice had fought back viciously. Though just a thirteen year old girl, she had left the customer with a broken jaw.
Elsa had beaten her for that, and locked her in her room for three days without food. Elsa had threatened to whip her and let her starve. Alice had still refused to become a soiled dove.
What Alice wanted was to be loved. She wanted a man to cherish her and care for her without only wanting her body. Alice wanted to be someone’s wife and to leave this place with her husband and always be with him. When she made love she wanted it to matter and not have the act reduced to simple commerce.
She dreamed of someone declaring his love for her without demanding she also provide him certain services.
Alice could still remember last spring when Robart Connors had come in holding a batch of wildflowers in his hands and walked right up to a startled Risa Sanders.
“I’ve come to make you mine!” He declared loudly and held out the flowers to her.
Risa had hesitated, but finally taken them from him and answered. “I would gladly be yours.”
Rob had then taken her into his arms and kissed her. Just like that he and Risa had been married. In Lothas that was all that was required. A man made his declaration and offered a woman flowers. If she accepted them and they kissed they became husband and wife.
Oh but Elsa had been furious! Risa had been one of her most popular girls. Sadly for Elsa though Risa hadn’t been indentured. She walked out with her new husband and never returned.
To leave this place behind with a husband who loved her, that was Alice’s dream.
It was never going to be more than a fantasy of course. She’d had plenty of men talk about marrying her. Somehow they all seemed to have a problem with the concept of doing things in their proper order. All of them wanted to have the wedding night first and then marry. When she mentioned the problem of Elsa owning her (whether you called it slavery or being indentured it was the same thing) they all either ignored the problem or talked about running away together.
As if I could run away.
She’d tried it when she was fourteen. The city guards had gone after her with tracking dogs and wound up bringing her back tied in ropes. Elsa gave her nothing but water for a week; she would have whipped her too but did not wanted to ruin Alice’s soft skin.
Elsa had given her a warning.
“If you ever do this again girl I’ll tell everyone your secret. Do you know what will happen to you then?”
“No,” the fourteen year old had answered.
“The same thing that happens to the goblins that run away.” Elsa said grimly. “You’ll burn.”
Goblins and other monsters were property. They didn’t bother pretending they were indentured. Monsters had no rights; they were treated just like cows or horses. If a monster ran away, or so much as disobeyed, an owner had the right to do whatever they pleased. In Lothas the usual punishment was to have the offending creature burned alive at the stake. The locals typically turned such executions into little festivals and would gather to watch and cheer as the creature burned.
Alice did not doubt that Elsa would do exactly as she promised. Alice was only treated as well as she was because everyone assumed she was human. Harold and all the other men who hungered for her so shamelessly would have been disgusted and horrified to know what she really was.
Elsa had bought her for five gold ducats from a knight who had found her as a baby after slaughtering her mother. The knight had likely spared her only because he’d expected to be able to sell her. Elsa had paid such a high price, and put up with dealing with a baby, expecting to make a handsome profit one day.
Elsa was the only one who knew the truth. She held the secret over Alice’s head and it worked better than steel chain in keeping her bound to the Inn.
The only mollifying factor was knowing that the truth would ruin Alice’s value, so Elsa could not use it to force the girl to let men stick it in her.
It would also kill the chances of Sir Lancel buying her.
Sir Lancel Griffinheart had visited them for the first time three months ago. He had spotted her and immediately chosen her for a trip upstairs. When she’d explained to him she was only the barmaid and didn’t do those sorts of things he’d laughed, assuming she was joking. When it became clear she was serious he’d offered her a gold ducat for her services for the night. A silver dalter would have been plenty to have gotten that from any of the girls who were working. He was offering Alice twenty times that.
Elsa had hissed to her to take it. Alice had shaken her head and still refused.
The half dozen heavily armed men who rode with the knight had been angered at her refusal and for a moment things had threatened to turn ugly. Sir Lancel however had merely laughed.
“I like a challenge,” he had told her. He’d wound up taking a couple other girls to bed for the night along with paying for women for each of his men. His eyes though had remained on her all through the evening.
He came back again a couple weeks later and that was when he began talking about taking her as a mistress. When he found out about her status as an indentured servant he’d started haggling with Elsa.
“He offered me twenty ducats for you girl.” Elsa had told her the next morning. “These high bloods are a strange lot, they’ll spend gold coin like copper for a night’s pleasure but they expect to get bargains on other things. I will get fifty ducats from him at the very least. See if I don’t.”
Since then the offer had gone up to twenty five. Alice had no idea how long it would take, but she was sure that sooner or later Elsa would get her price and she would be sold. Sir Lancel would then cart her off to some country estate and expect her to do whatever dirty things he wanted. He was richer and better mannered than most, but he would still treat her as nothing but a piece of meat. She would never be married. She would never be loved. If she ran away she would either be tracked down or killed. She was trapped.
No one was coming to save her.
XXX
That was when the door opened and the second customer of the day entered.
Alice, Elsa, Nancy, and Harold all turned and were startled to see a young man dressed in black robes standing there.
His eyes met hers. She was startled by them, they were the soft, pure yellow of a sunflower. Just as unusual was the way he was looking at her. There was obvious desire, but nothing lustful. Whoever he was he had a handsome face, young, but very attractive. Alice felt a sudden ache in her chest and her hands quickly smoothed out the front of her blouse.
Remembering her duties she smiled wide for him and called out a friendly greeting. “Welcome to the Inn of Lost Sighs darling. What can I get for you?”
The stranger in the black robes strode right up to her without a second’s hesitation, his eyes never wavering from hers. When
he stood across from her he spoke loudly and clearly. “I have come here to make you mine.”
Alice’s jaw dropped. A marriage proposal? “What?”
Calmly he repeated himself. “I have come to make you mine, and I will not allow you to refuse.”
Chapter 6
Huh?
When he was still just a child, Waldo had once asked his mother why they had to go out on their quests all alone, without servants or guards.
“Because,” his mother had told him. “In this world only the strong can rule, and the best way to know your own strength is to face things alone.”
He hadn’t really understood it back then; he thought he was beginning to.
The (sort of) Dark Mage (Waldo Rabbit) Page 9
