Finn Agnarsson, son of Agnar, had come from a long line of entrepreneurs who upheld the Aifur tavern. His business had flourished up until a decade ago when it had slowed due to the long and perilous winter. The Kings' armies kept Finn's business afloat after the Mara resurfaced into Mechty. The people of Spica were hungry, and he exchanged information and shelter to rich travelers, like Cahir, for provisions for his hungry customers, but not for free. Leaning against the wooden bar, he peered down at Althea through his thick, round glasses and smiled.
“I’d always hoped the worth of the coin would return. Don’t mean much now, but the Vala ban has been removed, ya gotta imagine that I’ll be as rich as the fat Spicanian King soon!” Althea stared dully at Finn, his presence dampening her mood even further. Cahir may have brought her to Finn to satisfy her questions, but Finn's broad use of unfamiliar terms just added more questions into her endless pile.
She turned her red rimmed gaze behind her, watching Katla and Cahir speaking quietly amongst themselves. She had been left to make small talk with the chatty little man in front of her, cautioned to only speak in as little detail as possible.
With trembling hands she fiddled with the ends of her now matted curls. She forced a smile, “You and Cahir seem to know one another well. How long have you been in his acquaintance?”
Finn quirked his eyebrow in the midst of rolling up his stained, white button-up. “Many years. Since he was yea high.” His hand leveled to the middle of his chest. “They start them conjurers young. Poor lad was only a young boy at the time, hadn’t even mastered his craft yet, but even so he was powerful. Had the face of an empty shell, that boy. Was taught how to fight, and did what he was told by the King like a puppet.”
“He must have had a difficult life.” She cleared her throat feeling the familiar lump growing at its base. She was never the type to internalize her feelings well. When the need to cry occurred, it was a struggle to keep herself together.
“Here’s a secret, young lass.” Finn was whispering now as he leaned in closer. “He was partially responsible for banning the Prophets. Cahir got his emotions tangled up some years ago after the last prophet was permitted, and a soft-hearted Knight is not something ya want to be. King Torvald spared his head, but now his life is under the thumb of the Vega King. I’m sure you’ve heard some form of this story before.”
It was not the first time Althea had encountered the term prophet in a sentence. Based on last nights encounter with Katla, Althea had taken on the role of a prophet in Katla’s eyes. Cahir, on the other hand, never confirmed or denied the accusation either. Whatever Cahir had done to her the night Katla arrived lead Althea to believe that was one conversation he was not willing to have.
Althea shifted uncomfortably in her chair. Cracking a smile, Finn lifted his hand to wave. The overwhelming feeling of eyes on her back suggested that it was Cahir that Finn had been waving at. “Of course,” Finn shrugged, “that is all speculation. Information of Cahir being the Knight in question is something I’ve acquired over the years in my profession.”
Althea hopped off the bar stool she was sitting on, landing on her feet with an audible thud against the dirty floor. “I’m sorry, I need to speak with Cahir.” There was little chance for Finn to respond as she turned on her heels in a hurry. Finn reached out tugging her back by the arm. The shock of his grip around her wrist had her reeling. “What do you think you’re doing?” Althea’s eyes glanced over the whites of his knuckles before she dared look him in the eyes. He was smiling coolly, his eyes squinting shut against the force of his grin.
“Surely you must be a little frightened of the Knight, am I wrong?” His grip tightened around her wrist, the tips of her fingers turning a deep red. Althea’s heart thudded frantically in her chest as he moved closer, unrelenting in his hold. “It’s okay lass if ya are. I mean, how long have ya known that Knight anyway? Can’t be that long.”
“Well-I...that…” she stuttered.
Finn chuckled, taking a hold of her freed elbow. “I’m more than willing to offer ya’ a place here. Pretty girls like you don’t come by often, and the men from the Spican King’s army grows hungry daily for a woman. Even my regulars, look at how they look at ya even in ye poor presentation.” His calloused hand slid up the length of her arm, grabbing her chin. He forced her head toward a group of men sitting with their shoulders slumped over their mead. They clamored upon eye contact, smiling wolfishly in her direction.
Althea felt her face blanch and her lips tingled from the shock. Her knees were wavering below her, all subtle resilience tapering away. His hand released her chin, and took hold of the collar of her white fleece shirt, pulling her closer to his face. “It’ll stay between us, aye lass?”
“Let go!” Althea veered her head back and then forward, her forehead coming in contact with Finn’s own. He howled, immediately releasing her from his restraints. She stumbled back, her eyesight white after the impact. She reached out searching for something to steady her in her state of temporary blindness. A broad hand enclosed her own while another one rested purposefully on her shoulder.
“What is going on?” Cahir’s voice was enraged. As her vision returned, she could see Finn gripping the edge of the bar counter while his other hand nursed the area on his forehead. He looked up at Cahir in disdain, gritting his teeth. Althea could see the fear seeping through his angry visage, but she could not figure out why. “Go ahead, brother. Lie to me.”
Finn scoffed, “I merely offered the lass a job. That is all.” Althea felt her cheeks warm and her shoulders trembling in anger, but couldn’t manage to speak another word. Her frustration along with the throbbing pain on her forehead was enough to make her sob.
“A job was it?” Cahir gently released Althea’s hand, but continued his supportive grip on her shoulder. “What horrifying job could you have promised her to result in your head nearly coming off from your shoulders?”
Finn slammed his hand against the bar, “Ya will not humiliate me in my own place of business again!” The tavern had gone eerily quiet after the bar owner’s outburst, the eyes of his patrons turning their attention to his outcry.
Peering up at Cahir’s blank expression, Althea could see animosity permeating through the small, stiff features on his face. His eyes grew dark under the taverns firelight, and the line of his jaw sat rigidly along his face. She could see his teeth gritting tightly through the skin of his mouth, the muscles along his neck contracting from the pressure.
“I...what I’ve meant to say is if you and yer lady could please escort yourselves out.” Finn pushed his shoulders back, but there was hardly hiding the apprehension weighing heavily in on his voice. He stepped back slightly, preparing himself to flee if he needed.
Cahir chuckled softly, a menacing sound vibrating through his chest. “Did you finally realize who you’re talking to?” He casually rested a hand at the handle of his sword. “I may consider you a comrade Finn, but as a Knight I ask for respect.” Cahir released Althea’s shoulder and walked forward. Finn took another step back, away from the Knight.
“Cahir--brother, ya know ya have nothing but my respect.” Cahir drew his sword, a couple of men at the end of the tavern cooed in approval.
Althea gasped in horror, running towards Cahir’s side, taking hold of his guard, “Please Cahir,” she whispered. Katla took hold of Althea's hand, squeezing it gently. Althea hadn't noticed the fragile woman beside her in the midst of all the chaos. Katla's hand trembled in her palm, and Althea could not decide if the smile on Katla's face was from fear or from excitement.
“Please Cahir, spare me!” Finn dropped to his knees, “You were right! I lost my temper, I apologize. I swear nothing like this should happen again. Just let me keep my life! Better yet, take my tongue again, in fact ye can keep it.”
A smug smile crossed Cahir’s lips, “Tell me Finn, would you be willing to do anything to keep your life?” He placed the edge of the blade against Finn's stubbled chin.
Finn shuddered, “Yes, absolutely! Anything!”
“Then find me a horse to ride back to Vega with. A healthy one. I’ll give you two hours to accommodate me and the lovely lady you insulted. Otherwise I’ll take the very thing you love away.”
Finn finally looked up from the floor, his glasses misted over, “What is that?” His voice quivered.
Cahir clenched his fist tightly and opened it. An orange flame flickered in the palm his hand, growing ravenous the longer it remained out in the open. Althea stared bewildered at the magically appearing fire as it intertwined between his fingers, as if it were scavenging for food along Cahir’s hand.
“It would be your very source of income to become the 'fat spicanian King'.” Cahir crouched down, glaring at Finn’s paling face in the firelight glowing in his palm. “Now, do we have a deal?”
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