Chapter 6
Boys Will Be Boys – Part 1
The hours spent on the road were pleasant enough as the three
guys talked about the places chosen for sightseeing, nibbled on the food they
brought, and even dozed off now and then. They passed by small farms, pastures
of sheep and rolling green hills, stopping only a few times to find a bush to
piss behind. Francois and Klaus sipped on their booze bottles, behaving like
perfect gentlemen...that is, until Magnus wasn't looking. As soon as Magnus was
gazing out the window, or sleeping, the unspoken truce was off. Francois would
sneer at Klaus and Klaus would glare back. They whispered insults under their
breath at each other. Neither one was going to break his promise to Magnus not
to fight, so they managed to keep their animosity hidden. Or, so they thought.
Magnus puffed on his pipe and enjoyed the conversation. He especially liked hearing about all the exotic sounding places he had never seen. The only thing that was unpleasant about the trip so far was his companions’ actions when they thought he wasn't paying attention. But since they were not out and out fighting, Magnus decided to let it go. It was obvious that Francois and Klaus were pretending to get along for his sake. Magnus thought it was kind of sweet that they were doing it for him.
It was late in the day when their carriage arrived at the next town...if you want to call it a town. It was more like a wide spot in the road - a way station for travelers. There was one main street just wide enough for two carriages to pass, and short enough that a person could probably stand at one end of the street and spit to the other. On the right side of the street there were three shops. Behind the shops were several small houses. On the left side was a brothel and one large, two story building with a red sign over the door. Painted in big white letters the sign read, 'Mattys Tavern and Inn' Smaller letters below read, 'Good Food - Horses Stabled' About a dozen horses were tied in a line in front of the brothel and the tavern. Two carriages were parked at the end of the street. There were no people out at all.
Joseph stopped the carriage in front of the tavern. Klaus got out first and set the step stool on the ground, then took hold of Magnus’s hand as he stepped down. Klaus put the stool back in the carriage and Francois jumped out, giving Klaus a dirty look from behind Magnus's back. They heard voices coming from inside the tavern, and someone’s loud laughter over a lively tune being played.
“What do you think?” Klaus asked.
“I think we should eat. I'm starving,” Magnus said, impatiently.
“Yes, of course we'll eat. But what about a room for us and one for Joseph?” Klaus said, ignoring Francois.
“I think we should check this place out first before we decide to stay. Don't you, Magnus?” Francois spoke up. He had a strange feeling about this place that made him uneasy.
“Sure...okay,” Magnus said, already walking toward the door.
“Joseph,” Francois called to the driver. “Take the carriage around back to the stable, but don't unhook the horses yet. We aren't sure if we're staying. We'll send dinner out to you and let you know.” He started to walk away, then turned. “Oh...Joseph, be sure the carriage is pointed toward the road out of town when you park.”
“Yes, sir. As you wish,” Joseph nodded, then drove the carriage away.
“Over here,” Klaus said, before Magnus could sit down. Klaus picked a table on the left side of the room next to the wall by a window. The tables were square with four chairs. Klaus motioned for Magnus to sit in the chair by the wall, then he sat down to Magnus's left and unbuttoned his coat.
Francois sat down on Magnus's right, turning his chair slightly so that he was able to see the room better. “Ale sounds good, don't you think, Magnus?” Francois said, but he wasn't looking at Magnus. His eyes were scanning the room.
“Yeah, sure,” Magnus answered, looking at Francois, then to Klaus. Neither one of the guys were looking at him or talking. Magnus turned his eyes to the room to see what was holding their attention, because it certainly wasn't him.
What was most notable in the tavern was the noise. On the opposite side of the room, two tables had been pushed together under the only other window. A group of eight rough, unsavory looking characters sat there playing cards, laughing, and trying to talk over each other. Most of them were sloppy drunk. Between that group of men and the long bar at the back wall was a small stage. Three minstrels...with a lute, a violin, and flute-played a rousing jig, doing their best to be heard over the rowdy group next to them. At two tables, in the middle of the room, sat six well dressed gentlemen having dinner and sipping wine. Behind the bar stood a portly man with short, black hair and a thin mustache. His full-length apron was tied in the front and made him look like a pillow tied in the middle. The only two barmaids were scurrying back and forth with pitchers of ale, serving the group of rowdies.
Magnus let out a big sigh and cleared his throat. “I hope the food is better than the shitty service.” Francois and Klaus turned their eyes back to him. “Well, that got their attention.”
“Sorry, Magnus, I'll wave one of the girls over,” Klaus smiled, but his eyes said his thoughts were somewhere else.
“I could use some ale about now,” Francois said, a bit too hastily. He unbuttoned his coat but did not take his musket off his shoulder.
The sun was almost down, taking the light in the tavern with it. One of the barmaids was placing candles on the tables and lighting them. When she looked up Klaus waved her over. She was pretty, with long blonde curls that bounced when she moved. The petticoats under her knee-length skirt swished back and forth, and her very ample bosom jiggled as she walked quickly to their table. “What can I get for you handsome gentlemen?” she smiled brightly, as she sat a candle on their table and lit it.
“Three tankards of your finest ale,” Francois said.
“We only have one kind of ale, sir,” the maid said, apologetically. Her low-cut blouse revealed a large amount of cleavage as she leaned toward Francois. “Will that do for you, sir?” she smiled, batting her eyelashes.
“Fine, that'll do,” Francois sniffed, ignoring her flirtations.
“What kind of food do you serve?” Magnus asked, his impatience growing by the second.
“Tonight, Matty made lamb and bean stew and baked bread. We even have butter this time.” She scrunched her shoulders and grinned looking pleased, like butter was something special.
“Yes, we'll all have the stew,” Magnus said, not even trying to hide his irritation.
“And take some stew to our driver, Joseph,” Klaus added. “Our carriage is out back by the stable. Do you have cigars?”
“Yes, sir. Matty will show you what he has at the bar. If that's all, I'll be right back with your ale first.”
It was dark out now, but all the tables had lit candles, even the empty ones. A bright oil lamp sat on the bar next to a cask of ale. The soft light might have been romantic if it was not for the damn noise. The minstrels played a slower ballad with a sweet melody, but it was difficult to appreciate when only bits and pieces were heard. The stew was tasty, and Magnus ate it with much enthusiasm, along with his bread he spread thick with butter. In contrast, Klaus and Francois ate slowly, frequently glancing at the group across the room, and in such a way as not to alarm Magnus.
They were nearly finished with their meal when Francois noticed the two men sitting against the wall. The men appeared to be having a private conversation as they chanced glances across the room. Francois nudged Klaus under the table with his foot, then used his eyes to point in the men's direction.
Immediately, Klaus turned to look for the barmaid that was serving them. “Miss,” he called out to her, lifting his tankard. “Over here.” He sighted the men in question and quickly turned back to give Francois a slight nod.
The barmaid stopped what she was doing and hurriedly went to fetch another pitcher of ale. Earlier, Klaus had given her a big tip from a very fat coin purse that he kept in his right coat pocket. She was hoping for another such tip. When she didn't get one she strolled on over to the rowdy group.
Klaus made mental note of the suspicious men. One was big, bald, and had thick muscular arms. The other was skinny, with long scraggly hair. “I'm going to get some fucking cigars,” he said and started for the bar.
“Can we get a room now?” Magnus stretched and yawned. A nice soft bed, snuggled in between Klaus and Francois, was all he had on his mind right now.
Francois turned his attention to Magnus. “Let Klaus have his damn cigar, then we'll check on a room.” He was putting off the question about the room because he really didn't want to stay. He felt uneasy, like he did during the war when he anticipated an enemy attack. For the next few minutes he tried to forget the feeling and concentrated on Magnus, his eyes fixed on Magnus’s beautiful blue ones.
“I'd like to see what you have in cigars,” Klaus smiled at the man behind the bar.
Matty reached under the bar and took out two wooden boxes, opened them, then waited for Klaus to examine them.
“This is a nice tavern you have,” Klaus spoke while making his choice. “The tables and this bar top look new. Have you been here long?”
“Ha,” Matty laughed. “Been here fifteen years. Had a little rough going on here about a month ago. Had some fixin' to do. Just opened back up last week.”
Suddenly, the skinny man was there next to Klaus. “I'd like a cigar, Matty,” he said and stumbled into Klaus. In the blink of an eye Klaus had the man's right arm twisted behind his back and a knife pressed to his throat. A coin purse clinked as it hit the floor. “You just made a big fucking mistake,” Klaus said into the man's ear, his voice deep, cold, and hard as nails.
Comments (5)
See all