“Monsain?” repeated the stable master in astonishment. “You must be insane! I’m not selling any horses to someone crazy enough to go to Monsain! My poor darlings will be wyvern chow!”
Taliesin sighed. “I plan to do something about the wyvern problem. The way will be safe for all beasts shortly, but that doesn’t change the fact that I need a mount to get there.”
“I’m not selling! I refuse.” He stomped his foot with finality. A pony two stalls over echoed his sentiment.
Even Taliesin’s patience wore thin. “Then do you know someone who would sell me a horse?”
“If you want to get eaten, that’s your choice. Leave the poor animals out of it. I will have nothing to do with this business.”
“They won’t get eaten! I swear on my honor.”
“The honor of a bard means nothing to me.”
Taliesin sighed again and turned to leave. “Let’s get out of here.”
Rhiannon glanced back at the stable master before ultimately following her companion. “Maybe we can walk?” she suggested. It couldn’t be that far...she didn’t think. Though the disappointment he quickly hid spoke volumes.
“It seems like we’ll have to...unless...” He changed direction, making a beeline for a nearby tavern. “I have an idea.”
“You aren’t going to gamble for a horse, are you?” Rhiannon had heard stories of the mind-blowing bets people made while drunk. If the tales were to be believed, a bard taking advantage of such a situation would be par for the course.
“Just going to cash in on a favor if I can find that woman.” He rested his hand on the latch. “You should probably wait out here. This place can be a little rough.”
No matter what they found within, the thought of staying out here alone frightened her more. “Then maybe I should stay with you? I can’t help but feel safer by your side.”
Taliesin rubbed the back of his neck. “You have a point, but I’d feel better if you didn’t meet my acquaintance. She can be a little...much.”
Curious.
“Much how?”
Abruptly he asked, “Have you met many witches, Miss Sofia?”
The surprises just kept coming. “She’s a witch?”
He held the door open for her. “A minor one, yes.”
“Who’re you calling minor?!” a voice shouted over the general hubbub, sending the evening crowd into stunned silence.
“...And she’s a little loud.” Taliesin heaved a weary sigh. “Evening, Tabitha. Thought I’d find you here.”
The tall, lanky woman with a shock of red hair thumped her elbow on the table and rested her chin on her hand with a grumpy scowl. “Hmph, calling me a ‘minor witch.’ Kids these days have no respect.”
“But you’re part of the minor arcana,” Taliesin pointed out as he and Rhiannon approached.
“Doesn’t mean I’m ‘minor.’”
“That’s exactly what it means.”
Tabitha harrumphed again before turning her gaze on Rhiannon. “And who’s this? I didn’t know you found yourself a girlfriend.”
“This is Miss Sofia, and I’m escorting her to her fiancé in the south,” he said with all the resignation of one who bore the brunt of this sort of treatment on a regular basis. “She isn’t my girlfriend.”
“Well, that’s a pity. A fiancé does put a damper on things.” Tabitha looked Rhiannon up and down. “She’s cute. A little on the plain side, but I bet she’d—”
Taliesin held a hand up. “Please stop. It’s one thing to pick on me, but please refrain from dragging Miss Sofia into this.”
Tabitha batted his shoulder. “Aw, you’re no fun,” she complained. “So, what can I do for you? You never swing by just to say hi.”
“I need to borrow your broom.”
“Ah, taking on the wyvern? Good. Saves me the trouble.” The witch groped underneath the table, clumsy and sideways. A moment later, she sat back up with a broomstick in hand. “Is your girlfriend going with you?”
“I’d rather she didn’t, but I see no other choice. Also, she isn’t my girlfriend.” He gripped the broomstick’s pole, but when he tugged it, she refused to let go.
“She’s welcome to hang out with me. I don’t bite.” Then with a devilish grin she added, “...Much.” She clicked her teeth together and laughed when Rhiannon flinched.
Groaning, Taliesin asked, “How much have you had to drink tonight?”
“Only a couple.” She frowned and counted on her fingers. “Okay, maaaaybe a little closer to a dozen pints. Those were forever ago, though. I’m perfectly sober now.”
He gave the broomstick another tug. “Miss Sofia, we should probably get going if we’re going to track that wyvern tonight.”
“It’s too dark out for that,” purred the witch. “Not everyone’s got your eyes, Taliesin. Stay a while. You can always take care of that nasty ol’ wyvern in the morning. Have a drink.” She turned toward the bar and waved. “Two pints for the gentleman and lady!”
“We’re fine without them,” Taliesin called right after. Used to Tabitha’s exuberance, the bartender only rolled his eyes and went back to polishing the tankard in his hand. “Thank you for the broom, Tabitha. I’ll bring it right back.”
Tabitha pouted, but the hurt quickly turned to petulance. “Do you even know how to fly that thing? Thought you didn’t need one of those to get around. Or... Oh, I get it. You just wanna show off to your girlfriend.”
“She’s not my girlfriend,” he said patiently, “and how else am I supposed to reach the wyvern?”
The witch looked amused by this reply, though Rhiannon didn’t understand why. “How indeed,” she mused. “I suppose you’d need to keep your hands free to handle the wyvern, so carrying this sweet girl is out of the question.”
He groaned. “Tabitha...”
“But won’t you need your hands to fly this bad boy too? I don’t see much benefit, but I guess you could always—”
“Tabitha!”
She gave him a slow, smug smile, enjoying every moment she made him lose his composure. “Yes? Is something wrong?”
Fed up now, he reached for Rhiannon’s hand. “We’re leaving.”
The witch seized his wrist first, suddenly far more alert. “Hold up a second, will you? I’ll stop teasing, so let the girl stay here.” Suddenly all business, she told them, “It’s a pretty nasty wyvern from what I hear. It has a taste for human flesh, particularly of the young maiden variety, and the maneaters are always most active after dark. She should stay here with me. I’ll keep her outta trouble.”
Taliesin glanced between Rhiannon and Tabitha. “I think I’d prefer to rent her a room someplace.”
“You know this isn’t the town to leave a young lady unattended. Especially not now that the scummier lot in this bar have seen her.” She waved a hand toward the others inhabiting the tables around them. While subtle, every single thug had inspected the pair. Rhiannon shrank a little closer to Taliesin. “Have her stay with me. I’ll blast a hole in anyone that so much as looks at her funny.” She shot a glare toward those still checking Rhiannon out with their smirks, and instantly they all found much more interesting diversions in their tankards.
While he didn’t doubt Tabitha’s abilities, it didn’t change the fact that she was hammered. “What do you think, Miss Sofia?” he asked after a long moment. “If you don’t want to stay with Tabitha, I understand completely.”
“Poo to you too, Taliesin.”
“But she does have a point. I don’t think I can keep my promise of your safety if you come with me.”
Rhiannon didn’t think he could keep it if she stayed here either. She hesitated, glancing from face to face in the dimly lit pub. “Do we have to stay in the tavern?” she asked, voice hoarse.
“We can relocate. I have my place set up just outside of town.” The witch pushed back her chair and wobbled as she stood. “It’s a nice little cottage. Got lots of tasty things to eat there too.” She scratched her head. “That is, if Merlin’s in the mood tonight. I probably shouldn’t be handling a stove like this, even if it is the magical kind.”
Taliesin crouched slightly and slung Tabitha’s arm over his shoulder. She tottered even with assistance. “Where did you set down your cottage?”
“I told you! On the edge of town.”
“Which edge? There are quite a few to this side of the city alone.”
“About...” She pursed her lips and struggled to think of it. “About five minutes down the road. That edge. Over by the stream.”
“Got it.” Taliesin gave Rhiannon an apologetic inclination of the head. “Sorry about all this. I didn’t think you’d have to babysit a drunk when I suggested stopping here.”
Rhiannon shook her head. “It’s all right.” At least Tabitha seemed like the mostly harmless sort. Brodrick even one drink in could be impossible to deal with. She avoided him on such occasions, but sometimes he would drag her into his ‘fun.’ Tabitha didn’t strike her as the type to force spirits on her if Rhiannon said no.
They went in search of the cottage, but their quest ended anticlimactically when the cottage found them instead. Rhiannon should have expected someone as odd as Tabitha to have an equally odd house, but it had never occurred to her that the house would be able to meet them well before the aforementioned stream. Most cottages, after all, didn’t have a pair of bony chicken feet to hop around on.
“Thanks, Merlin,” Taliesin told the house when it crouched to bring the doorway closer to them. “Think you can let us in too?” The latch clicked, and the door swung open to admit them of its own volition. “Thanks again!” He gave Tabitha a nudge. “Let’s get you inside.”
She pumped her fist into the air. “Okay!” The motion set her off-balance. If not for Taliesin’s hold on her, she’d have toppled over. Rhiannon hurried to her other side so the witch didn’t overbalance Taliesin as well. Together, they helped her stumble across the threshold and toward the sofa.
“I’m really sorry about this,” Taliesin said, running his fingers through his bangs in defeat. “She’s normally not this bad.”
“I’m always this bad,” laughed the witch. She flopped onto the cushions and kicked her legs against the arm of her sofa. “Life’s more fun with a couple of pints! Not my fault you can’t get tipsy.”
Taliesin shook his head. It wasn’t worth arguing with her. “Do you think you can handle her? She’ll probably pass out in a few minutes.”