T H E T W I N L E O P A R D S
By Arbitrator
Chapter One
Dizen absentmindedly traced the rim of his mug of weak ale as he looked into the crackling fire. He sat on an old, cushioned chair, situated on the hearth around the large stone indentation. Fixed eyes against the licking flames could only mean he was intoxicated in thought. He was known to do this as he regularly came to the tavern.
The Silver Goblet was the only tavern in the diminutive manor of Lorida, and was very popular during the evenings, the escape for serfs to enjoy drinks and play at cards or dice—if they had any coin, that is. Dizen was only known by the general populace because he was quiet, and the fact that he was the son of those owning the manor house. They wouldn’t even go as far as call it a hall, for it wasn’t the largest building in town.
No one knew what Dizen was thinking when he came down to the Silver Goblet, but they did know enough to keep their mouth closed out of sure respect of nobility. That, and the fact of wanting to live was on the line. Of course, there were rumors whispered behind closed doors. Though they were meaningless and rather insignificant, it gave an excuse to why the young man came down each day.
Apparently he spent more time in the village than at the manor house. Reasons such as his dislike toward family were widely shared. Or perhaps the family showed a dislike toward the young fellow. They refused to accept the fact that he enjoyed the company of townsfolk, even if he showed little regard toward them.
The barmaid came over to the worn chair that had obviously had its fair share of moths that had taken up prior inhabitants. She peered at the still figure before speaking.
“Would you like anything, D-Dizen?” She still had never really gotten used to his request of calling him by just his name.
She appeared the same age as him. He knew she worked at the tavern because of her mother who owned it. It surprised him when he first found that a woman owned such a place, but now he knew, both that and her name: Meldyn. Fortunately, he was able to look up from the fires and stare into her eyes.
Managing a smile, he took the handle to his mug.
“I can get myself a drink,” he said. Whenever Meldyn had asked him if he would care for anything, that was always his response.
And her response had always been, “You know the rules, milord,” she said, sharing a grin. She gripped the mug, appearing careful to not touch him as he let her take it. His eyes were on her until she left his view and he sat there for a moment staring at the hearth.
Dizen looked toward the mantle and saw sconces, holding two candles at either end of the wooden covering. Looking beside him, a shelf of dusty books sat there, appearing to languish upon one another in negligence. He withdrew his position from the chair and met Meldyn with another mug. He took it and bowed his head in gratitude. Also taking her hand in his, he led her to a seat and had her sit down. She only looked nervously toward her mother, a plump woman who was currently occupied by other dishes.
“No. I can’t. You know I have to—” But he wouldn’t hear any of it.
“How are you this fine evening, Meldyn?” saying with a smooth voice, ignoring her objections.
“I have to cle—”
“I will help you later.”
“You know that mother would not allow it.”
Dizen couldn’t help but shrug. This was the first he offered to assist in cleaning. But forbidden from doing such things as cleaning and such was ridiculous. What was wrong with cleaning? He wouldn’t have it. Standing, he began his way toward the bar mistress. Meldyn couldn’t help but implore him to cease his insistence. He wouldn’t have it. Managing his way to the counter, the woman looked up from her task and raised an eyebrow when she laid eyes on her daughter peeking over Dizen’s shoulder.
“Young Miss Kalyss. You wouldn’t have any objections in my helping cleaning around the tavern, would you?” He couldn’t help be step back as her expression went from inquiry to suspicion.
“My Lord. There is no such need for your help in our tavern. Meldyn is sure enough herself as well as the others.”
Dizen expected as much from a bar mistress in response to such officious behavior.
“Well, if you are in need of me, I will be taking up residence in that wonderfully cushioned chair over by the fire.” The two women followed Dizen’s gaze. Mistress Kalyss nodded with a slight smile.
Dizen bowed his head once more, signaling his appreciation.
Gender:
Points: 890
Reviews: 2