The rear door to the inn opened and a slim figure entered. He was filthy, dressed in torn rags and a hat that looked more like a sack. He clutched a small purse tightly to his chest and paused for only a moment, his eyes darting around the room nervously. He walked quickly to the rear of the bar, where the innkeeper filled a sack of food in exchange for the purse.
“What do we have here?” asked a burly fellow from one of the tables as he got to his feet. “Take off the hat,
The ragged pauper clung to his bag tightly and looked toward the door. When he did, another man from the bar moved to block his path.
“I said take it off!” the burly man ordered.
“Leave him alone, Drake,” the innkeeper told him. “He just came in for a bit of food. He ain’t gonna eat it here.”
“I can’t believe you sell to
“He ain’t stealing anything,” Hall said. “He comes in here once a week to buy food and stuff for his family. This one has a mate and a kid. Poor things are barely alive. They’re living in the forest. It’s been a month since the town guard in Medford drove them out.”
“Yeah?” Drake said. “If he lives in the forest, where’s he getting the money to pay for the food? You stealing it, ain’t you, boy? You robbing decent people? Breaking into farms? That’s why the sheriffs drive ’em out of the cities, ’cause they’re all thieves and drunks. The Medford guard don’t want ’em on their streets, and I don’t want ’em on ours!”
A man standing behind the vagabond snatched his hat off, revealing thick matted black hair and pointed ears.
“Filthy little elf,” Drake said. “Where’d you get the money?”
“I said leave him be, Drake,” Hall persisted.
“I think he stole it,” Drake said and pulled a dagger from his belt.
The unarmed elf stood fearfully still, his eyes darting back and forth between the men who menaced him and the door to the inn.
“Drake?” Hall said in a lower, more serious tone. “You leave him be, or I swear you’ll never be served here again.”
Drake looked up to see Hall, who was considerably larger than he, holding a butcher knife.
“You wanna go find him in the woods later, that’s your business. But I won’t have no fighting in my place.” Drake put the dagger away. “Go on, get out,” Hall told the elf, who carefully moved past the men and slipped back out the door.
“Was that really an
“They’re half-breeds,” Hadrian replied. “Most people don’t believe pure-blood elves exist anymore.”
“I actually pity them,” Albert said. “They were slaves back in the days of the Empire. Did you know that?”
“Well actually, I…” Myron started, but he stopped short when he saw the slight shake of Royce’s head and the look on his face.
“Why pity them?” Alric asked. “They were no worse off than the serfs and villeins we have today. And now they are free, which is more than the villeins can say.”
“Villeins are bound to the land, true, but they aren’t slaves,” Albert corrected. “They can’t be bought and sold; their families aren’t torn apart, and they aren’t bred like livestock and kept in pens or butchered for entertainment. I heard they used to do that to the elves, and sure, they’re free now, but they aren’t allowed to be part of society. They can’t find work, and you just saw what they have to go through just to get food.”
Royce’s expression had grown colder than usual, and Hadrian knew it was time to change the subject. “You wouldn’t know it to look at him,” he said, “but Albert here is a nobleman. He’s a viscount.”
“Viscount Winslow?” Alric said. “Of what holding?”
“Sad to say, none,” Albert replied, taking a large drink of ale. “Granddad, Harlan Winslow, lost the family plot when he fell out of favor with the King of Warric. Although, truth be told, I don’t think it was ever anything to boast about. From what I heard, it was a rocky patch of dirt on the Bernum River. King Ethelred of Warric gobbled it up a few years ago.
“Ah, the stories my father told me of grandfather’s trials and tribulations trying to live with the shame of being a landless noble. My dad inherited a little money from him, but he squandered it trying to keep up the pretense he was still a wealthy nobleman. I myself have no problem swallowing my pride if it will fill my stomach.” Albert squinted at Alric. “You look familiar, have we met before?”
“If we did, I’m certain it was in passing,” Alric replied.
