And so it came to pass that for the following week, I snuck out of the house every evening and made my way to the inn. The merchant, whose name I never learned – partly because I never asked, and partly because the boys only ever called him old man – always welcomed me warmly.
Without asking for a single coin, he ordered me a bowl of soup and a piece of bread every time. In exchange, he asked questions: my name, what I liked to do, how my family was. Nothing extraordinary, I thought back then. But now I know he was testing me, even then.
I also befriended Sebastian, Crosseyes, and Quiet. I wasn't one of them yet, but we played Draw Thirteen together, doing our best to outwit one another. Surprisingly quickly, I became the best at it, so much so that the other three often teamed up to beat me at their own game.
But that only happened when Ninefingers wasn't playing – and the reason he wasn't playing was me. That week, we never warmed up to each other. We avoided each other as much as we could, and when we didn't, we bickered. There were no further physical fights, but I could feel his gaze drilling into the back of my head whenever I spent time with his friends.
I think he was just afraid I would replace him back then.
It was a quiet week. But what would my story be without my father? It was only a matter of time before he found me at the tavern. Yet when he showed up one evening at the same time as me, he wasn't even there because of me. He had come for the young barmaid he'd been secretly seeing for the past two years, maybe longer.
Since he'd sold my mother, their once-secret meetings had become less and less reserved. They weren't officially a pair, but that didn't stop him from seeking her out or stealing glances at her ass.
Only tonight, there was a problem.
"Oh, stop it," the barmaid giggled shyly, giving the merchant a playful push on the shoulder. Her cheeks were flushed, and not from alcohol.
The old man – who wasn't actually old, we just called him that – smiled and gently took her hand in his. "When I heard I'd have to leave the capital to come to this village at the edge of the world, my entire week was ruined..."
He lifted her hand and kissed it, making the barmaid giggle again, even more shyly. "...but now I thank the gods for the rest of my life for showing me paradise before my very eyes."
He winked. At that moment in time, I hadn't noticed my father was also in the tavern. I was sitting, as always, with the flirting old man and the boys at a table. While he tested the power of his tongue, we tested our dexterity with our fingers. Still, even I was occasionally impressed by the old man's antics.
"Does he always do that?" I whispered to Quiet.
Quiet glanced at me and nodded.
"In every village," Sebastian added. "Always says the same things."
I tilted my head. What was so great about telling women these things? I didn't understand.
"Does he want to steal from her?" That was the only explanation I could think of. I had never heard of sweet words or romance – only shattering glass and secret nighttime visits.
Sebastian laughed. "No, no," he said, shaking his head. Then he tilted it thoughtfully. "Uhm, well, I think he wants to steal her night. That's what he told me when I asked him the same thing."
"And what does that mean?"
"I-I think I know!" Crosseyes suddenly blurted out. Since his well played debut at the wagon, the cross-eyed boy had been entirely different: shy and uncertain.
We all turned to him. He wilted under the attention of four clueless boys, which for him meant it looked like he was staring right at us.
"Go on," Ninefingers prodded.
"Yeah, what does it mean?" I asked.
"Mh, mh," Quiet grunted.
Crosseyes fidgeted with his fingers, then leaned forward as if sharing the secret of the universe. "I think it means–"
"What do you think you're doing, huh?"
My blood froze in my veins. I knew that voice. But more than that, I knew that tone.
Not now. Please, not now.
But no miracle in the world could stop what was coming. My father stood right in front of the old man. He was drunk, and the veins on his forehead looked ready to burst. "I asked you a question, asshole."
The old man looked around in confusion. Then he slowly released the barmaid's hand and turned to face my father. "I doubt you're talking to the children. Now, what exactly have I done, my friend?"
Still clutching his bottle, my father jabbed a finger in the old man's face. "Fuck you. Don't call me your friend..." He belched, making the old man grimace in disgust. "You're harassing the girl."
The old man glanced up at the barmaid. She was staring at the ground, clearly embarrassed by the scene. Whether she was ashamed of herself or her lover, I couldn't tell. Finally, the old man let out a booming laugh that silenced the entire tavern.
"Harassment, you say? Maybe you do things differently out here, but the way you're barking at me right now would count as harassment in the capital." He threw the barmaid a crooked smile. "If making a woman blush is a crime, let the gods and the Scales judge me. I'll take any punishment... for that."
I shrank as small as I could. Instinct kicked in automatically. My father's hand trembled with rage. The barmaid tried to slip away, but he grabbed her wrist. "I'm not done with you," he hissed.
I wanted to crawl under the table. If my father was causing a scene in the middle of the village, there was no doubt about his alcohol level. This was threat level Fireplace. Except there was no fireplace to hide in.
The smile vanished from the old man's face. His eyes fixed sharply on my father's hand – not the one in his face, but the one holding the barmaid. He stood, pushing the bottle and finger in his face away, and rising to his full height, which was a head shorter than my father.
Now it was my father's turn to laugh. "Pff," he spat. "The dwarf with the crooked nose thinks he wants something from me. Hear that? The little coin-juggler thinks he wants something!"
Several men in the tavern stood and began moving toward our table. The barkeep, whose daughter was still in my father's grip, just watched. I leaned toward Sebastian, turning my head, hoping my father would be too distracted to notice me.
"Tell him to apologize," I whispered fearfully.
Sebastian looked at me far too calmly and smirked. "Why?"
Panic surged through me. But not for myself – I was already afraid for myself – but for the old man and my friends. They didn't understand what was happening. They didn't know him.
"He's popular in the village," I said. "The old man doesn't stand a chance!"
"Watch," Sebastian replied simply. "This also happens in almost every village."
I didn't understand. In the next moment, I did, as my father was thrown over the table.
Sebastian jumped aside, and I tumbled out of my chair as my father rolled past me and hit the wooden floor with a crash.
"It's starting!" Ninefingers shouted excitedly.
Sebastian nodded. "Alright, boys. To work!"
The tavern transformed – into what I now think of as a normal Tuesday evening in the capital, but for nine-year-old me, it was pure chaos.
Four men lunged at the old man simultaneously. The barmaid ran off screaming – or laughing, I'm still not sure.
One of the four threw a punch at the old man, but he barely moved, stepping aside just as the man slipped on the bottle my father had dropped. The attacker's chin smashed against the wooden floor, and the old man, as if he had known this would happen, gave him a kick in the side. He grunted in pain as the other three stared at him in astonishment.
The old man raised a fist. "Come on, you pigfuckers!"
Another man charged. The old man dodged the punch, lightly touching the man's back as he passed. A second attacker came in, landing a solid blow to the old man's jaw. He staggered back, colliding with a table, then ducked and rolled away as the second man stumbled into the first, who had just turned around. The two collapsed in a heap.
It was a blur of chaos – a touch and slap here, a dodge there, every move of the old man's seeming both calculated and accidental.
By the time it ended, all four attackers lay groaning on the floor.
Meanwhile, under the tables, I saw the boys crawling toward the downed men, deftly relieving them of their coin pouches.
I laughed. It was probably the funniest thing I'd ever seen in my life!
Two of them managed to get up again, and the brawl continued. The other patrons cheered every time the old man bested another of his assailants. I laughed even more and watched it all unfold.
"You!" a groan came from behind me.
I turned, and the laughter died as I locked eyes with my father, still sprawled on the floor. His bloodshot gaze bored into me. I stumbled back, finding my escape blocked by the table.
My father rose and grabbed me by the collar.
I didn't even make a sound. I knew this would happen. I already knew the pain.
"What are you doing here, you little shit?" he spat, clutching my face with his other hand and forcing me to look at him.
I couldn't even answer. And then I understood. It didn't matter how great the old man and the boys were. It didn't matter how much fun I had with them, because it would soon end. They would move on, and I would still be here. With him.
My personal hell that I called home.
The slap that followed still rings in my teeth today. He hit me hard enough to make me bite my tongue, and I tasted blood in my mouth.
"You think you're one of them, don't you?" he snarled. The next blow knocked a tooth loose. Tears welled up in my eyes. Not because of the pain, but because everything was back to normal.
"I should have sold you to that monster when I had the chance, just like that whore – ugh!"
The next strike never came. Suddenly, he released me and collapsed to his knees, clutching between his legs.
Sebastian darted past him and grabbed me. "Come on!"
I didn't even understand what was happening. He pulled me to my feet, and my body ran by itself.
"Old man! We need to go!" Sebastian called.
The others – Ninefingers, Crosseye, and Quiet – joined us as we ran. The old man glanced our way and nodded. He gave one of the groaning men on the floor one last kick in the ribs before following us.
We burst through the door into the night. "See you around, my love!" the old man shouted behind us.
I didn't even look back. There was nothing holding me here. Except Sebastian, who pulled me toward the merchant's wagon. The horses were already harnessed, as if they knew this would happen.
Quiet climbed into the wagon first, followed by Sebastian, me, Ninefingers, and then Crosseyes. The old man joined a second later, grabbing the reins.
"Hyah!" The horses whinnied and galloped away. We looked back to see the four men stumbling out of the tavern in fury. And at the forefront was my father. Our eyes met. I felt... nothing in that moment.
Nothing at all.
"Oh crap," said the old man as the horses picked up speed. "I didn't pay the barkeep."
The others laughed. I laughed too... and held up my father's coin pouch, which I'd just taken from him. I pulled out two copper coins and tossed them onto the road behind us.
"For the farm!" I shouted, a smile on my face, as we rode off into the night.