saying ‘ain’t.’ Ain’t he clever?” Old Gam cackled
“Don’t start with this, don’t, or the drinks will stop.” Derk threatened with a raise of his eyebrows, hoping to evoke a bit of concern from his friend. Instead she smirked and cocked her head, looking him over.
“I’ve never met one like you,” she said, laughing again, nursing her beer. She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, signaling to the tender she’d be needing another drink soon. “Saying brass ain’t right. Maybe she likes having multiple callers and likes making money off of it. The demand’s there.”
“Multi-” The word stuck in his throat and he took a gulp of beer to clear it, raising the tankard up as he spoke for emphasis. “Maybe she does, but maybe she doesn’t. Maybe she can’t find no other work. And asides, people, men, women, should have one partner at a time. One to one is proper.”
“Proper?” The barkeep set another mug of beer in front of Celeel, turning his attention back to other patrons, ignoring the fact she was choking on her last gulp of beer and her chuckles. “Proper? Where’ve you picked up this notion? It’s so…even the Goddess takes on as she pleases. What an old-fashioned fellow you are!”
“I don’t know,” he said, tilting his glass to look down into it, noting the noise had grown louder and the banter more violent than jovial.
He supposed he had picked it up from his father. For all his faults, or maybe included among them, he was faithful to his partners. Darix Cartaskin could never be accused of sharing a bed with anyone other than his wives. Even after Derk’s mother had died, he spurned female callers and only took Gela into his bed once the vows had been spoken. Other men, other Barons had their ‘sometimes’ women but his father never did. His father…Derk drained his tankard and set it on the bar, leaning toward Celeel with half-open eyes, smiling slightly. “I’m just a poor, old-fashioned man, aren’t I? Endearing, isn’t it?”
“Are you poor, now? How are you affording these drinks?” she asked, finishing hers quickly and asking the bartender for another with a hand signal. “Now you can find someone you love, you don’t have to pay, your ‘one to one’ and do things…properly.”
“Or improperly, as the case may be,” he said, leaning in a bit closer to her. She was still pretty, he thought to himself. The time they spent in the bar together, no other woman had caught his eye but Old Gam, Celeel. The way her eyes sparkled when she laughed, her ready smile and how she spoke both plainly and jesting at the same time…was she drunk? He was surprised to see she leaned in as much as he was, a curl falling past her ear. Was she biting the inside of her lip? Was she in fact drunk? Derk leaned in closer, the blood pounding in his ears as her mouth came close to him. They’d kissed before, more than kissed. It didn’t mean his heart didn’t beat faster when she drew closer to him.
“Improperly, you say…?” Her breath was warm and she smelled the way women always did to him, warm and inviting. He breathed in Gam’s distinct scent of honey which seemed very fitting. Derk placed a hand on her knee, giving it a gentle squeeze as he leaned in closer. He actually had something to say, quite good and clever. He brushed the curl off her face, tucking it behind her ear and let his hand linger on her cheek, which was soft and warm. He would have told her what he had in mind and kissed her, but instead he shoved her back forcefully.
Out of nowhere a large man came hurtling toward them. He slammed violently into the bar, gasping as wood and bone collided. Derk fell backwards off his stool, his head missing a table corner by a mere finger’s width. The man who was pushed into the bar roared. He picked up the nearest object, their half-filled glasses. With a scream he charged his attacker, cracking both mugs over the man’s skull. Derk winced as the ceramic
“Don’t start with this, don’t, or the drinks will stop.” Derk threatened with a raise of his eyebrows, hoping to evoke a bit of concern from his friend. Instead she smirked and cocked her head, looking him over.
“I’ve never met one like you,” she said, laughing again, nursing her beer. She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, signaling to the tender she’d be needing another drink soon. “Saying brass ain’t right. Maybe she likes having multiple callers and likes making money off of it. The demand’s there.”
“Multi-” The word stuck in his throat and he took a gulp of beer to clear it, raising the tankard up as he spoke for emphasis. “Maybe she does, but maybe she doesn’t. Maybe she can’t find no other work. And asides, people, men, women, should have one partner at a time. One to one is proper.”
“Proper?” The barkeep set another mug of beer in front of Celeel, turning his attention back to other patrons, ignoring the fact she was choking on her last gulp of beer and her chuckles. “Proper? Where’ve you picked up this notion? It’s so…even the Goddess takes on as she pleases. What an old-fashioned fellow you are!”
“I don’t know,” he said, tilting his glass to look down into it, noting the noise had grown louder and the banter more violent than jovial.
He supposed he had picked it up from his father. For all his faults, or maybe included among them, he was faithful to his partners. Darix Cartaskin could never be accused of sharing a bed with anyone other than his wives. Even after Derk’s mother had died, he spurned female callers and only took Gela into his bed once the vows had been spoken. Other men, other Barons had their ‘sometimes’ women but his father never did. His father…Derk drained his tankard and set it on the bar, leaning toward Celeel with half-open eyes, smiling slightly. “I’m just a poor, old-fashioned man, aren’t I? Endearing, isn’t it?”
“Are you poor, now? How are you affording these drinks?” she asked, finishing hers quickly and asking the bartender for another with a hand signal. “Now you can find someone you love, you don’t have to pay, your ‘one to one’ and do things…properly.”
“Or improperly, as the case may be,” he said, leaning in a bit closer to her. She was still pretty, he thought to himself. The time they spent in the bar together, no other woman had caught his eye but Old Gam, Celeel. The way her eyes sparkled when she laughed, her ready smile and how she spoke both plainly and jesting at the same time…was she drunk? He was surprised to see she leaned in as much as he was, a curl falling past her ear. Was she biting the inside of her lip? Was she in fact drunk? Derk leaned in closer, the blood pounding in his ears as her mouth came close to him. They’d kissed before, more than kissed. It didn’t mean his heart didn’t beat faster when she drew closer to him.
“Improperly, you say…?” Her breath was warm and she smelled the way women always did to him, warm and inviting. He breathed in Gam’s distinct scent of honey which seemed very fitting. Derk placed a hand on her knee, giving it a gentle squeeze as he leaned in closer. He actually had something to say, quite good and clever. He brushed the curl off her face, tucking it behind her ear and let his hand linger on her cheek, which was soft and warm. He would have told her what he had in mind and kissed her, but instead he shoved her back forcefully.
Out of nowhere a large man came hurtling toward them. He slammed violently into the bar, gasping as wood and bone collided. Derk fell backwards off his stool, his head missing a table corner by a mere finger’s width. The man who was pushed into the bar roared. He picked up the nearest object, their half-filled glasses. With a scream he charged his attacker, cracking both mugs over the man’s skull. Derk winced as the ceramic
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