Don Perrin - Theros Ironfield

The barmaid, Marissa, hustled over, asked if the baron would like a refill on his ale.

“Thank you, yes.” He gave her a pinch.

The barmaid flashed him a smile, left with a twirl of her skirt that revealed her shapely legs.

Theros gazed after her. In all the years he’d been coming to this bar, she had never looked at him like that. Granted, he was not the most handsome man in the world and he supposed his manner was crude and abrupt from living so long among the minotaurs. Still, the baron was no prize and the woman had smiled prettily for him. Money and power, Theros thought. That’s what makes the difference. She’d smile for me if I put that jewel in her hand.

From deep inside, a voice asked, “And would you want a woman who will smile only if she’s paid to smile? And do you truly want to work for this man when you don’t like him?”

Theros grunted. He leaned forward. “No, thanks, Baron. Like I said, seven years ago-maybe. If you’re looking for a smith, I suggest Malachai the Dwarf. He might be interested. I’m not.”

The baron tried this angle and that, but Theros continued to refuse. At length, it seemed that Moorgoth gave up. He didn’t appear to have any hard feelings about it. He had turned his attention to other things.

The barmaid came back to the table with two full mugs of ale. Moorgoth grabbed the woman around the waist, pulled her close. “My men and I will be going out to battle soon. Shall I bring you back a little something?”

The woman giggled and tried-but not very hard-to pull away. “Oh, yes! That would be wonderful, my lord!” She snuggled up. She knew how to win friends.

“I would really like this man, Theros Ironfeld, to join my army. Do you suppose you could persuade him to do that for me?”

The girl’s eyes widened. She had seen Theros in the pub many times over the past years and had paid little attention to him. She now eyed him with more respect.

“I’m not sure what I could say to him to make him reconsider,” she said.

Moorgoth gave the girl a nudge toward Theros. She wobbled and landed in Theros’s lap. “I’m sure you’ll think of something, my dear.”

Marissa’s eyes darted over the massive muscles of the smith in admiration. She ran her hand over his shoulder. Three gold pieces had been shoved into her hand while she sat with Dargon Moorgoth.

Theros didn’t know this at the time. He put his arm around the woman’s waist. “Say anything you like to me. You are a very lovely woman!”

The barmaid snuggled close and looked into his eyes.

“Oh, sir. Do you really think so?” she asked coyly.

Moorgoth smiled and stood up. “I am off to bed, Theros Ironfeld. I hope you change your mind and decide to join Moorgoth’s raiders. Perhaps I’ll stop by tomorrow and we can have another little chat.” With that, he turned and left.

The barmaid stood and began clearing the dishes and mugs from the table. She took them to the kitchen, then went over to the bartender. The two whispered back and forth for a few moments, and a few coins were passed to the man.

She returned to Theros’s table and picked up his now-empty mug. Leaning forward, she let her hair fall softly across Theros’s face and whispered in his ear. “Meet me upstairs in Room Two in half an hour.”

She turned and took the mug away.

Theros’s heart pounded. He had admired the barmaid for a long time. Now, he was being admired in turn. He was no longer just the town smith.

He went upstairs.

He found the room without any problem, even in the poorly lit corridor. The candles in their sconces illuminated the number on the brass door. He hesitated in front of the door, then opened it without knocking. He quickly looked around. No one was in the room.

The bed was large enough for two, and there was a desk and chair standing in the corner. Next to the door stood a small table with a washbasin and a full jug of water. Beside the basin sat a razor. A small hand towel hung from a peg in the wall. It was definitely a comfortable room.

Theros gingerly tried the bed. It was soft. A down quilt covered the straw bedding, neatly hiding the scratchy stalks below the cloth. Sheets and a blanket covered the quilt.

He lay back on the bed and shut his eyes. He felt like a man of destiny today. He had been invited to join up with an army. He had refused, but the memory of old times made him wonder what its objectives were, how many men and what sort of equipment it had. He was thinking about this when the door opened.

The barmaid slid in and shut the door behind her. She came over and sat next to Theros on the bed.

She put her hands on Theros’s chest and looked down into his eyes. “My name is Marissa.”

Theros started to tell her what his name was, but she stopped his words with a kiss. He put his arms around her and brought her close.

Marissa pulled back from him, ran her hands through his curly, short black hair. “I know your name. And I’m sorry I never noticed you before, Theros Ironfeld,” she said softly, breathlessly.

Reaching into the bodice of her dress, she drew out three gold pieces and handed them to Theros.

“What’s this for?” he asked in astonishment.

“You overpaid me for the meal,” she answered, smiling.

“But-”

Marissa kissed him again. There was no more talk about money. Nor did she once mention the notion that he should join Moorgoth’s raiders.

The night was one Theros would never forget.

Theros awoke when the sun hit him in the eyes and he looked around, not recognizing his surroundings. Then the last evening and his liaison with Marissa came back to him swiftly.

He lay back down in the bed, noticing that she was gone. He could still smell her perfume on the sheets. The sun was yet level with his window, meaning that it was early. He didn’t have to leave at once. Perhaps Marissa would come back.

Today would be a good one for Theros. He would go to his work, start that new shield he’d promised to one of Moorgoth’s men. Now that the army was planning to march, Theros would undoubtedly have as much work as he could manage in the next few days. He’d work long hours, but he’d charge more for the extra time. Then he’d visit the Jeweler’s Guild, buy one of those jewels Marissa thought were so lovely.

Marissa. Last night had been the first night Theros had not slept alone since he had arrived in Sanction seven years ago. Women had glanced his way on more than one occasion, but he’d never done much to encourage them to do more than look. He didn’t know how to talk to women, who seemed to expect a man to talk about things like moonlight and roses. The only thing Theros knew about moonlight was that it permitted night marching. Women never seemed the least bit interested in talking about the things he liked to talk about-the best stone to use for sharpening swords, how to make fine quality steel.

Not until he’d met Marissa. Last night, they’d talked and talked, and not about moonlight, either.

He rose, rinsed his face in the basin, and shaved. Dressing, he went down the stairs to the pub. Breakfast was being served.

He looked around to see if he could find Marissa. She was nowhere in sight. Theros ordered a plate of eggs and bread, with tarbean tea and a piece of apple for his meal. He ordered an apple cider to wash it down.

After his meal, he went back out onto the street, walked to his shop. Yuri was there already, opening the shutters. Yuri was a good worker, skilled in tooling and sewing leather. He was not strong enough to make a smith, but he could do all of the odd jobs that Theros didn’t have time to do-leatherwork, arrow and spearhead making, armor work. Yuri was young, but he caught on quickly.