After about ten minutes, nearly everything on their plates were finished, and only then did Roman speak up. “You know, there’s nothing like a good stew with turnips and mushrooms.” He told them.
“I have to be honest with you; I never did like stew all too much.” August said.
“No?” Roman asked.
“Not really. Whenever my Mum made it, I would only take one bite. I don’t know if it’s the sauce she made, or the green beans she added, but I’ve never liked it.” August explained.
“Fair enough. I’ve never been too keen on pork.” Leander told them. “Now pork is delicious.” Roman said.
“Personally, I don’t like lamb all too much.” Argus also admitted. As you can tell, much about food was discussed over their supper. Once their meals and drinks were done, they decided to grab another round of beer. And why not? It was Argus’ birthday after all. In the next few minutes, singing began in the tavern from another table, they were singing a song called, ‘Old River Man’, a song that is known throughout Rethomar as, ‘The Drunk Man’s Curse’.
Soon everyone in the place was joining in.
Soon the world is round enough, to the point that things can get quite tough.
Everyone is joining in, singing the song in unison.
Wine and whiskey all about, lips wetter than a dog’s own snout.
So, get the bottles and mind the rum, everyone will have such fun.
Dounce down a couple of glasses, filled up to the brim.
Grab the beer, freshly brewed, and everyone join in.
This is the song of a drunk, who is waiting for the time.
The time to quit his drinking, and not spend another dime.
Even the old tavern keeper sang, and villagers using their own slang.
Rejoice, rejoice for the drunken man, who gave up drinking without a hand.
Respectable and charming too, never went back to the brew.
That is until the day had come, that he decided to drink some rum.
Dounce down a couple of glasses, filled up to the brim.
Grab the beer, freshly brewed, and everyone join in.
This is the song of a drunk, who is waiting for the time.
The time to quit his drinking, and not spend another dime.
Now forever he is cursed, to the drinks forever in thirst.
Drinking all his sorrows gone, and to this day he isn’t done.
I hope you heed this warning, until death comes a knocking.
Stay right off the bottle you must, and hope you will I’m sure I trust.
Dounce down a couple of glasses, filled up to the brim.
Grab the beer, freshly brewed, and everyone join in.
This is the song of a drunk, who is waiting for the time.
The time to quit his drinking, and not spend another dime.
This is the song of a drunk, who is waiting for the time.
The time to quit his drinking, and not spend another dime.
Once the song was over, there was a loud cheer and hoorays and hoorahs began filling the air, to the point that someone from outside came in and complained to poor old Mr. Gelb. Everyone who had joined in still cheered and clapped, wanting to sing another, but was highly discouraged by Mr. Gelb. All but the man with his pint smiled or sang. He still stared at Argus, who was now sweating from the singing and dancing with his friends. Suddenly, a loud voice echoed across the large room. “Attention everyone!” Roman shouted. Some people quietened down, but others were still loud and were talking. “QUIETEN DOWN YOU DRUNKS!” He shouted louder than before.
Everyone, now turned toward Roman, holding their drinks, and some of them smoking their pipes. “I would just like to say thank you to Mr. Gelb first of all, for running such an excellent tavern, which is filled with such beautiful alcoholics and smokers. And secondly, I would like to say a good happy birthday to my dear friend Argus Nephus, now seventeen years old! May all of his days be good, and may he drink with us until he dies! Cheers to you, my friend!” Everyone began to clap, some shouting, “Happy birthday!”, and others shouting, “Long live Argus Nephus!”
This made Argus blush even more, and he smiled a big smile. Leander and August also cheered happily. After another hour, they grabbed another round before deciding to cut themselves off before getting so intoxicated that they started seeing fairies. Argus and Leander couldn’t finish theirs because they were so full from their dinner, and felt bloated. “I knew I shouldn’t have eaten the rest of those chips,” Leander said, “Even if they are the best part of any meal.”
“I know how you feel.” Argus admitted.
“There was quite a bit on our plates.” August added.
“Not enough if you ask me.” Roman said, as the serving of stew was not much on his stomach. Most of his satisfied belly was filled with a good brew. “I think I might go back to the room now if that’s alright Argus, I think I just need to sleep my full stomach off.” Leander told Argus. “Okay, I’ll see you back at the room.” Argus said back to Leander, as he walked out of the pub, saying goodbye to the Roman and August on the way out.
By now, the rain worsened, and the sky grew darker. It was not fully dark yet, but the night was growing closer. Roman, August, and Argus remained in the tavern, still chatting with each other. “This was a good night.” Argus said. “I agree. A good meal, lovely drinks, friendly chats. This was a nice evening.” Roman agreed. After a while longer, Argus, Roman, and August decided to call it a night. Argus before leaving, looked back on where the staring man sat, only to find that he was no longer there. He was in a strange way relieved. Once August and Roman were gone, Argus gathered his cloak, and left through the door.
He turned to the left of the deserted streets, before being pulled by the cloak to an ally way by a large figure in a black cloak while wearing a hood. Argus was startled and was about to yell, until his mouth was covered by the man’s oily and greasy hands. The man had a lit pipe, slightly illuminating his face, revealing a scar across his right cheek, and a blind left eye. Without warning, Argus felt a deep pain in his arm. His yell was muffled by the man’s hand. He held his eyes shut, almost as if he expected that this whole experience was just a horrible nightmare, only it wasn’t.
He felt something trickling down his right arm, and looked down to see his own blood dripping onto the dirt ground, with a long dagger piercing his arm. Argus tried to think of something other than the pain to try and distract himself. He notices wooden crates beside him, so he thought of what could be in them. He could hear the talking of people inside the tavern. Still, nothing can draw his attention away from the situation. Within a few seconds, the dagger was taken out of his arm, and the hooded man took a small glass bottle with a cork, and took some of Argus blood, and poured it into the bottle, little bits dripping into the bottle at a time. Finally, the stranger had let go of Argus’ mouth, putting the cork back on the bottle, and Argus could finally let out a terrible scream.
It took seconds for people to come flying out of the tavern to see what the matter was, and it took less for the man to disappear behind the tavern, and further away. “What on earth happened?!” Someone asked.
“Good heavens Argus!” Another shouted in horror. People slowly began to come out of their houses, gathering around the poor boy, trying to carry him into the tavern. Once inside, they put him on an empty table, and tried tending to his wound. Another few seconds later, Roman and August came bursting into the Plenty ‘o’ Pint, worried about their friend, trying to calm him down, but were shoved out the way to give him room, and let others mend his wound.
“Move out of the way! Give him some room, he’s been badly injured!” Mr. Gelb shouted taking a Mr. Gelb had brought some water to clean the wound, and a towel to create pressure and stop the bleeding. “Argus was in terrible pain, but at least he was being treated. Roman immediately ran out of the tavern without any warning, but Argus didn’t care, he was just too concerned with the fact that he was in agony. After about ten minutes of yelling and tending to the wound, they were able to wrap him all up. In that time, Leander had come in with Roman. It turned out Roman had gone to find Leander, waking more people up in the process. After all that had happened, Argus was finally able to answer some questions.
“What did the man look like lad?” Argus explained that he had a blind eye and a scar on his cheek. He was asked other questions like, “How did this happen?” or “When did this happen, even though it had happened not twenty minutes ago. After the next hour of questions, Argus was led to the inn, where he could rest for the night. Finally, he could sleep, and regain strength. As soon as he landed on his sheets, his arm still in pain and exhausted, fell asleep, his mind fading to black. But later in the night, his mind wandered, and nightmares crawled into his dreams, strangling his consciousness with visions of a gathering on a dark tower.
He could see hooded men, with black cloaks, at least thirty of them were gathered around a large bowl, the size of a well’s opening. Each of them came forward with a sharp knife, cutting off their own fingers, none of them flinching the slightest bit, as if they enjoyed it. Next, came a large helmet of dark metal and gold, with horns and a large opening for the face to see out of. Next, came a bone, a large, and almost withered bone, belonging to a human. And finally, came a small bottle, presented by one of the hooded men, pouring what appeared to be blood into it. Almost immediately, a great beam of light came from the large bowl, and from the light came a shadow; thin, and almost mangled looking. From the shadow stretched out a hand, and it called out Argus’ name, in a shallow, croaked, and whispered voice.
Argus darted up, now awake, and screamed. Leander began shuffling around, startled by what had happened. “Argus?! Argus! It’s okay, everything is fine!” Argus started to hyperventilate, and began sweating. He stood up wiping the sweat from his forehead, his breathing beginning to slow. He turned to Leander. “I’m sorry I startled you.” Argus said.
“No need for any sorry. You just had a nightmare.” Leander said calmly. “I woke you.” Argus argued.
“I don’t mind. If I’m able to help a friend, then I shall.” Leander told Argus.
“You’re a good friend.” Argus said, finally calmed, dried, and tired again. “Goodnight, Leander.”
“Goodnight, Argus.” Both of them curled back up in their sheets, and closed their eyes. In the morning, they would make their way back to their farms after saying one last goodbye to August and Roman. Argus still felt a bit on edge while on the way back home, but at least he knew that he was safe with Leander. After saying goodbye to Leander, Argus returned to his Aunty and Uncle, who were happy to see him, until they saw his bandaged wound. When they asked what happened, he said that he slipped in the mud, and fell, scraping his arm on a rock.
He knew that if he told the truth, that he might be forbidden to go to Firandir without his Uncle and Aunt again. From that night until the end of the month, he had the same nightmare on the night of the incident. After the month had gone, he could finally sleep well, knowing that they were gone, and that he was with his family.
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