A flash of light came through the windows which was soon followed by the booming of thunder. So sudden that it set Cotter to jumping in his seat and sending his ale flying over the table and himself.
"Fuck!" The man let out angrily as he slammed his pint down and started cleaning up the mess. "Fuck!" He repeated once more.
The others, along with Emmet, couldn't help but laugh as they saw the man curse at his luck, above them, the roof of the inn continued to serve as a useful shield to protect them from the heavy rains high above them coming from the very heavens themselves.
"Gods," Emmett half burped and half laughed at his friend as he looked at the shutters and into the dark of the outside world. "It's completely pissing it down isn't it?"
"Aye," Rast agreed as he took a drink of his own mug of ale. "We'll be seeing floods if the rains don't let up. And if that ain't bad enough, I tell ya, we'll be losing crops as well."
"Bugger the crops, Rast." Cotter mumbled as he finally settled down. "You've seen the harvests over the past few years? Plenty o' crops that is, we won't be worrying about crops anytime soon."
Rast shook his head, his mug close to his lips. "I ain't worried about going without food, Cotter. I'm worried about losing crops that will cost me in coin. Grain doesn't sell for as much as it used to."
Emmet couldn't help but nod his head as he admitted that Rast was making a good point. It was all well and good having fields filled to bursting with harvest after harvest through the year, but the more there was, the less they could fetch in price to the merchants.
Oh, he was thankful to the Sevens that he could bring in enough of a harvest to keep his family well fed, he was more than thankful for that, but that did not mean much if he couldn't pay the taxes required him to his lord. He'd heard the same words coming from some of the other farmers, village and towns thinking much the same.
Rast's face then turned into one of distaste afterwards as he spoke. "Coin those weasels seem intent on taking from us hard working folks." He spits to the ground. "What sort of priests take money from good men trying to make means?"
Emmett sighed as he shook his head. "They serve the gods, Rast. They are holy men and women. It is not for us to ask how they do their workings, but for us to follow."
"Gods, Emmett, you sound like a godsdamned sheep." Cotter remarked, "Before those weasels came, do you know what I did to ask for forgiveness? I went and prayed to a heart tree. Now apparently, I have to donate good coin, coin that might help my wife buy food for our children, to them for the gods to forgive me! That's madness! Why would the gods need coin from us?"
Emmett took a sip of his drink. "They need it." He spoke quietly into his mug, hoping the others hadn't heard him.
Unfortunately, they had heard him and they didn't like what he had said by the looks of it. "Oh? And how do they need that coin exactly? I tell you why, it's to pay for their whores." Cotter growled with a sneer on his face.
Emmett looked up from the inky depths of his mug. "Now, now Cotter, you shouldn't be believing those lies. The men and women of the Faith are ordained. Holy. Sworn to ignore all earthly pleasures. Good men. They are not weak like us."
Rast jaw was near dropping as he gaped at him. "Don't tell me you haven't heard the rumors? Of how a supposed ordainedand holy septon had taken to celebrating Mother's Day? Why, by spending the day in the company of whores!"
Emmett was suddenly worry about their surroundings after that outburst. He looked around and noticed that the inn was suddenly quieter than it had been, with the sounds of men talking lower than they had been. He knew that what they were talking about could result in blood being drawn.
Although he could tell that it was his friend speaking, he felt that it wasn't him that was actually saying the words. He had heard those words before, in passing, or in rallies in markets. It was the words of man who had come to only be known as Luthor and his followers. No-one knew where he had come from and Emmett didn't care about the man at all.
But all he knew was that this man and his words had caused man a split among the people of these lands.
"Shh!" He shushed his friend. "Quiet down you fool. Don't make a scene." He quickly made to change the subject. He wouldn't be able to forgive himself if he was to tell Milly that her husband had been wounded in a bar brawl because they had been stupid to discuss something that had proven to turn men, long life friends, against each other. "I passed Walter's youngest boy sometime back when I was making the journey back from Stoney Sept."
Thanks to the gods, Cotter seemed to be mindful as well as he accepted the change of subject. "Didn't he go to join the king's host?" He asked, nudging Rast ever so slightly to calm him down.
Emmett nodded, still wary of how his friend will react. "Aye, the very same. When Walter talked of his boy joining the king's host, he made it seem like he'll be finding glory on the battlefield. I wonder how he'll feel knowing the boy is busy building roads."
A sigh nearly escaped his lips when Rast let out a laugh. "Roads? That's bloody brilliant that is! I doubt that twiggy little brat was good for anything else."
He smiled then. "Oh, he ain't so twiggy now. The boy is built like Hollard now, full of muscle. Honestly, I wouldn't have recognized him if he hadn't called out to me." He stopped for a moment to catch his breath. "Honestly? I still didn't recognize him until he reminded me of who he was!"
They all bawled themselves to that, the image of the thin lad from down the way doing hard labor was something that was more than enough to bring tears to the eyes to any man who knew the boy.
"Jacks had the notion of running of to join the king's host when the recruiters came," Cotter was saying. "But I stopped him from doing anything so foolish. I have three children, two of them daughters, one of them still to young to help with the harvest and the other old enough, but my son? Why would I be so foolish to let him run off like that? Who would help me bring in the harvest? Madness."
Rast nodded his head slowly as he continued to join the conversation, but he could see a steel in his eyes. A steel that was yet to go. "With these bigger harvests we've been seeing, every man needs all the help he can get to bring it in before it all goes to rot."
Emmett could only raise his mug to that. "Truer words have never been spoken, Rast."