friend.
The following morning when he rises, he finds clouds moving in from the west. How he misses riding in cars. The radio, the speed and not to mention the fact that when it rains you don’t get wet. Sighing, he wakes up Dave and they head down to the common room for breakfast.
A quick meal and they’re once more on their way. They continue along the road as it follows the shore of Crystal Lake. By noon the clouds have completely blotted out the sun and not long after that it begins to rain. Not a hard rain, but enough for them to break out their rain gear.
James acquired a wide brimmed hat and poncho for just such an emergency. When he has it on, Dave says, “You look like some Mexican out of the old west.”
Grinning at his friend, he says, “Better than being wet.”
When the light begins fading with the coming of dusk, they come to a town situated on the northern shore of Crystal Lake. “Should we stay here or continue on?” Jiron asks.
“We’re not in any hurry,” James says, “Let’s find a spot here. Beats the heck out of sleeping on the ground in the rain.”
“Thought you might say that,” he says.
The town as it turns out is called Crystal City. Despite such a name, it is just another fishing village, though larger than most they’ve come through since leaving Wurt. They find an inn with a sign outside depicting a fat fish lounging in a bed.
Inside, they find the proprietress of the Fat Flounder, a rather jovial fat woman who greets them warmly. Arranging for rooms and stall space for their horses, they’re soon settled in and having dinner down in the common room.
Outside, the sound of the rain beating against the windows tells them it’s increased in severity. James is quite glad they didn’t decide to continue on in this weather. Tomorrow will be soon enough.
No bard makes an appearance while they eat so they make do with conversation. During the course of their meal, a serving girl is bringing over another round of ale to their table when she’s accidentally tripped by another customer who stood up from his chair abruptly.
Two of the mugs she was carrying on her platter fall off and hit Dave in the head, dousing him with ale.
James begins to chuckle at the sight but then it dies on his face when he sees the expression coming to Dave’s face.
“You stupid girl!” Dave says as he comes to his feet. Red faced and dripping with ale, he turns on her and strikes her across the face. “Don’t you know how to carry a few measly mugs?”
“Dave…” James begins to say when Jiron comes to his feet.
“Relax,” Jiron says to Dave. “It was just an accident.”
The room has grown silent as everyone there watches the events unfolding at their table. Face turning red from where Dave had slapped her, the girl begins to tear up as she says, “I’m sorry.”
“Sorry!” yells Dave. “I’ll show you sorry!” He makes to step toward her when Jiron grabs his shoulder. Turning around, he looks with eyes burning in anger at him and throws a punch.
Almost without effort, Jiron blocks the attack and in two lightning fast punches has Dave on the ground. “Apologize to her,” he says as he stands over him.
“Jiron,” James says trying to calm the situation down.
From the kitchen the large proprietress enters the common room. Upon seeing the whole room staring at Dave and Jiron, she makes her way over to their table. That’s when she sees the serving girl with tears in her eyes and face turning red from where Dave had slapped her. All jovialness leaves her as she demands, “What’s going on here?”
“Mother, it was my fault,” the serving girl explains. “I spilled drinks on this gentlemen and he became angry.”
“Did he hit you?” she asks her daughter. When her daughter nods yes, she turns an angry expression upon the supine Dave.
“He was about ready to apologize to your daughter,” Jiron says. Then to Dave he asks with an edge to his voice, “Weren’t you?”
Eyes dark from the smoldering rage bottled up behind them, he looks to James who nods his head. With absolutely no sound of feeling sorry for what he did, he says to the girl, “I’m sorry.”
Jiron reaches down and takes Dave’s money pouch. When Dave tries to stop him, he slaps his hand out of the way. Opening it up, he pulls out two silvers and hands them to the girl. “Here,” he says to her in a kind voice, “take these as recompense for what transpired here.”
She looks to her mother who nods. “Thank you,” she says as she takes the offered coins.
“Go back to the kitchen,” her mother tells her and she turns and quickly disappears through the kitchen door. To their group, she says, “Any of you strikes my daughter again and you’ll be out the door. Understand?” She looks from one to the other.
“It shall not happen again,” Jiron assures her. “I’ll see to that.”
“Very well.” She then turns and walks back to the kitchen to console her daughter.
Reaching down he grabs Dave by the shirt and hauls him to his feet. “You and me got to step outside,” he says and shoves him toward the door.
James starts to get up when Fifer puts a hand on his shoulder and says, “This needs doing.”
“But Jiron will kill him!” he exclaims.
Shaking his head, Fifer says, “No, he won’t.”
Looking around at the others, he can see they’re all in agreement with Fifer. Sitting back down, he watches as Jiron pushes Dave outside. After they leave, the room maintains a hushed silence for only a moment before the normal murmur of conversation resumes.
Shoving hard, he propels Dave out the door and outside into the pouring rain. People standing near the entrance give them room as it appears they’re about to get into it.
“What the hell’s the matter with your?” Jiron shouts at him as he comes to a stop two feet from where Dave lies sprawled in the mud of the street. The rain plasters his hair against his face as he confronts him.
Turning a gaze burning with hate and anger, Dave gets to his feet. “This ain’t none of your business!” he spats back at him.
“Whatever effects James is my business,” replies Jiron. “He’s my friend.”
“He was my friend first,” he says.
“That is true, he was,” agrees Jiron. “But how someone like you could ever be a friend of his I’ll never understand.” Looking at Dave, he adds, “The only reason you’re even alive is due to him.”
“You’re all trying to turn him against me!” Dave accuses.
The crowd around them begins growing despite the downpour as they yell at one another, attracting everyone in the immediate vicinity.
“I haven’t even tried yet,” he retorts back. “None of us have.”
Dave glares back at him, not responding.
“You want to take a swing at me?” Jiron asks.
“No,” replies Dave. “Just to rip your head from your shoulders.”
“Then let’s have at it,” he says.
A murmur runs through the crowd as they await Dave’s response. Even though his anger is red hot, his wits are sharp and he knows that to go against Jiron is a death sentence.
“You all don’t even seem to care what I went through before I met up with James!” he shouts out accusingly.
“What? That you were a slave in the Empire?” he asks back. He spits on the ground and hollers back, “My sister was a slave in the Empire as was Miko! Don’t you even think to play that card with me! If you were any kind of man you would get over it and start living your life.”
Dave glares back at him, rage burning within him.
“But no,” he continues, “you keep whining about it like yours is the only life ever to experience hardship. The difference between you and the others is that they had the strength to carry on.”
“You don’t know what you’re talking about!” he cries out. “Your sister and Miko went through nothing like what I did. Don’t even think for a moment to compare their pain with mine!”
