Red Raven Tavern (Part 2)

Red Raven Tavern (Part 2)

Brunan Garilando showed no awareness of his status as the owner of the Red Raven Tavern. He ignored the incessant complaints of Louise, the tavern's head waitress, and squatted on the floor with several sheets of animal-hide paper in hand. As he rummaged through the bundles, satchels, hide scrolls, and vine-woven trunks Lorist had piled on the ground, he muttered to himself:

"Two Black Scale Rhinoceros hides. Tom at the armor shop asked for these..."

"Five Red-eyed Black Fox pelts. Old Burke at the leather shop reserved them..."

"Three Black Gold Python skins. Johnson at the weapons shop wants to make sword sheaths..."

"A bundle of Spotted Wildebeest tendons. Chris needs them for bowstrings..."

"What's this?" Garilando raised a grayish-white bone over a meter long.

"The arm bone of a legendary Sharp-beaked Owl Dragon. Lemando natives from the Ruins Archipelago made it into a bone club. It's light and extremely hard. Sir Malev wants it for his collection." Lorist put down the roast goose in his hand and answered.

The Sharp-beaked Owl Dragon was said to be a large flying beast artificially created by mages thousands of years ago using owls and dragon blood. Fierce and combative, it had long since gone extinct. A hundred years ago, a complete skeleton was discovered in the Ruins Archipelago, once a land of mages. Scholars named it after its enormous sharp-toothed beak.

Sir Malev was one of the more distinguished regulars at the Red Raven Tavern. He seemed to be a noble from some duchy, but after growing tired of political struggles, he came to Molent City and bought a house in a neighborhood not far from the tavern to live in seclusion. He enjoyed collecting strange and unusual things.

"Oh." Since Sir Malev wanted it, there was nothing strange about it. Garilando set down the grayish-white bone and picked up a leather case. Seven test-tube-like glass bottles were slotted inside, each containing liquid of a different color. "What about this?"

"The blood of seven magical beasts from the Ruins Archipelago. Professor Simpson of White Rose Academy wants it. He said he obtained an ancient book and asked me to get him the blood of these seven magical beasts from the Ruins Archipelago. He wants to see if he can reproduce one of the potion formulas in the book," Lorist explained.

Only then did Garilando notice a small label beneath the glass bottles, listing the names of the magical beasts: "Black Gold Python, Blue-backed Demon Wolf, Black Scale Rhinoceros..."

"That old fool Simpson has too many gold coins and nowhere to spend them. Reproducing potions? What an idea. There aren't any mages now, no magic power either. How could anyone make potions?" Old Tom shook his head dismissively from the side.

"What's this, then?" Garilando shook a thick bamboo tube. It was about a meter long and sealed shut. It seemed to contain liquid, sloshing loudly when shaken.

"Uh..." Lorist looked a little embarrassed. After hesitating, he answered, "Er privately asked me to bring him some Terence Donkey Whip..."

Terence Donkey Whip was a specialty of the Ruins Archipelago, a renowned aphrodisiac prized by nobles and ******** men alike.

"Pfft..." When she heard that Er had privately asked Lorist to bring back Terence Donkey Whip, Louise covered her mouth and giggled endlessly.

Garilando's face turned green. "Outrageous! That little bastard needs an aphrodisiac at such a young age? His cultivation isn't improving, and all he does is crawl over women, yet he can't even produce an egg! He needs a proper lesson! Keep this thing with me for now. If Er asks, tell him to come find me."

Er, whose full name was Brunan Evenbert, was the underground boss of the nearby three blocks. A Silver Two-star swordsman, he was also Garilando's nephew and his only relative.

The table was a mess of cups and plates. Lorist raised his wine cup toward Fatty Mai, the chef, drained the remaining fruit wine, let out a long breath, and gave a satisfied belch. "Louise, see if Old Luke has any business at the back door. If not, ask him to come cut my hair and shave my face. Also, open a room upstairs for me and prepare some hot water. After I bathe, I want to sleep properly. And please take the clothes in my vine trunk and what I'm wearing to the laundry later. Buy me a suitable new outfit from Auntie Misha's clothing shop too. Put it all on my tab for now."

Old Luke arrived quickly. At this hour, there were hardly any customers at the small barbershop he ran by the Red Raven Tavern's back door. The moment he heard Lorist was looking for him, he packed up his tools and came over. First, he draped a black linen cloth around Lorist. Then he placed a shiny silver plate on the table Louise had cleared, using it as a mirror. Holding a small pair of scissors and an ivory comb, he asked, "The usual hairstyle?"

On the Galintea Continent, aside from nobles in certain countries who wore particular hairstyles to display their exalted status, people generally chose according to their own preferences. Sometimes, however, fashionable styles like wavy perms and tied ponytails became popular. In this regard, Lorist felt there was little difference from his previous life, aside from the relatively primitive barbering tools.

Lorist had always liked to keep his hair cut short, a simple crew cut. On one hand, it was a habit left over from his seven years as a soldier in his previous life. On the other, it was easy to maintain and quick to wash.

"Mm, the usual." Lorist sat a little straighter.

Old Luke smacked his lips. "Honestly, Little Locke, your black hair ought to be grown out. Look at it—such a pure black, so beautiful. If you grew it long and tied it into a ponytail, plenty of girls would fall for you."

"Forget it. Long hair needs washing every day. Too troublesome. By the way, Old Luke, tell me what interesting things have happened over the past half year."

Old Luke liked to chat while cutting hair. Whether it was big news or small gossip from the neighborhood, he could always tell a tale or two.

As he trimmed Lorist's hair, he put on a thoughtful expression. "Nothing much, really. Two months ago, Linde, the fruit seller at the street corner, had his stall knocked over by a startled horse, but he got four Gold Fude in compensation and made a small fortune. Last month, butcher Watt's slutty wife got caught with a mercenary ** again. That Black Iron rank mercenary got his shoulder chopped by Watt. It was hilarious. Watt hasn't even awakened Battle Qi."

"As for major news, the newspapers three months ago said the war in the north had ended. After two years of tireless efforts by the Commercial Alliance, all sides finally reached a peace agreement. The papers said the trade routes to the north were shining with gold. Over the past two months, the papers have been full of notices recruiting mercenary guards or seeking investment in merchant associations heading north. But they've also reported plenty of merchant associations traveling north being robbed by bandits."

"Oh, the Krissen Empire in the north stopped fighting?" Lorist had not expected that, during the half year he spent in the Ruins Archipelago, such a historically significant event had taken place on the Galintea Continent. As for the newspapers claiming that peace had been achieved through the Commercial Alliance's efforts, no one took that seriously. The powerful northern empire had always been the Forde Commercial Alliance's mortal enemy. In more than a hundred and sixty years, there had been three famous wars between them. Six years ago, after the old emperor died and his three sons fought for the throne, the Commercial Alliance had been the happiest of all. It would have been generous of them not to add fuel to the fire. Why would they kindly help end the war?

"Tell me, what were the terms of that peace agreement?" Lorist was curious what conditions the Commercial Alliance had offered. The empire's three princes and more than a dozen Grand Dukes had fought chaotically for nearly six years, shattering a vast and immensely powerful empire. Its people were impoverished, its armies exhausted, and even the great nobles had to live on loans. No one would believe the Commercial Alliance had not been meddling behind the scenes.

"Ah, I didn't really pay attention to the details. You know, I'm just a barber. I've never cared much about national affairs..." Old Luke looked somewhat embarrassed.

"I know this." Old Tom was delighted. As a retired postal official, commenting on national affairs had always been his hobby. "There are mainly three points. First, the empire has been divided into three kingdoms and seven grand duchies. In other words, the Krissen Empire that used to loom over the Commercial Alliance is gone. There won't be any more northern invasions. Second, trade routes must remain open. Whether kingdom or duchy, commercial taxes are one-tenth. Also, the various merchant associations under the Commercial Alliance may freely establish shops and conduct trade within the territories of the major lords. Third, the Commercial Alliance will provide loans of varying amounts to the three kingdoms and seven duchies. The interest rates seem to range from seven to thirteen percent."

"Brother Locke, if I remember correctly, you're from the north, aren't you? The carriage that sent you to the academy back then even had a crest on it. You must have been some kind of noble, right? Now that the north isn't at war and the trade routes are open, don't you want to go home and take a look?" Fatty Mai, the chef sitting opposite him, seemed to recall meeting Lorist for the first time outside the academy ten years ago. Hearing everyone talk about the north, he asked the question.

"Little Locke, you're from the Krissen Empire? And a noble?" Old Luke made a great fuss over it.

When the old emperor of the empire had still been alive, he frequently ordered the border armies to launch raids on the Malichu Plains, where the Commercial Alliance was located. Those imperial nobles who took advantage of the chaos, in particular, caused tremendous harm to the people of the Commercial Alliance with their private troops. As residents of Molent City, the Commercial Alliance's capital, they might not shout for blood whenever they saw someone from the Krissen Empire, but they had absolutely no goodwill toward imperial nobles.

"More precisely, I'm a northerner of the Krissen Empire, one of the northern highlanders. It's several thousand miles from here. Northerners have never fought the Malichu Plains or the Commercial Alliance. It's too far away—marching alone would take two or three months. My father was a baron, and his territory was in the far north. I was second in the family, with an older brother above me and a younger brother below. The territory and title would never be inherited by me. Being sent to study in Molent City meant my family had abandoned me. Although the north fought for six years, I had lost contact with my family seven years ago. That meant I had to fend for myself. So now, I'm a man of Molent City. I have nothing to do with the north or my family anymore," Lorist explained.

"Mm. To prevent their children from fighting over territories and titles in the future, many nobles focus on training the heir while using exile, enfeoffment, or marriage alliances to deal with their other children. Cases like Little Locke's are very common, especially since his family only held a baronial title," Old Tom nodded in agreement.

Old Luke worked quickly. Not only did he finish cutting Lorist's hair, he also took out a sharp blade and shaved the fine hairs from Lorist's face and the stubble from his chin until they were perfectly clean. Finally, he applied a little oil to protect the skin.

Lorist rubbed his smooth chin in satisfaction. Generously, he gave Old Luke a small silver coin, then asked Fatty Mai to serve Old Luke and Old Tom a cup of Blackberry Mead each, all charged to his tab. He picked up the two swords of different lengths from the table and followed Louise upstairs.

The second floor of the Red Raven Tavern contained eight guest rooms, four on each side. At the end of the corridor was a staircase leading to the third floor.

They had barely reached the second floor when hoarse sounds of a man and woman making love came from a guest room on the left.

Lorist asked curiously, "Who is it? They're still going at it this late?"

Without turning around, Louise replied, "It's Jumili. At noon, she took on the Black Bear Brothers for seven large silver coins. They've been at it for over three hours. I don't know whether she'll even be able to get up tonight."

Jumili was also a tavern waitress. As for the Black Bear Brothers, Lorist knew them. All three were low-ranking mercenaries who cultivated Military Battle Qi. The eldest was Black Iron Two-Star, while the second and third were still Bronze rank. They usually took short-distance escort jobs or ran errands for people. The three brothers were tall, large, dark-skinned, and muscular, so people nicknamed them the Black Bear Brothers. Over time, the nickname became their proper name.

The guest room Louise took Lorist to was the first one on the right at the end of the corridor. A large bathtub had already been placed inside and filled with hot water.

Lorist set down the two swords in his hands, pulled the two daggers from his boots, removed the sleeve-arrow tube from his left arm, and impatiently stripped himself naked before climbing into the tub.

Louise handed him a pink bar of floral-scented soap and placed a white linen towel beside the tub. She gathered up the clothes on the floor, found his money pouch, sword buckles, waist pouch, and belt, and arranged them on the table. Just as she was about to leave, she seemed to remember something. She returned to the tub and asked, "Little Locke, are you free three nights from now?"

"I don't know. Why? Is there something?" Lorist lifted his face from the water and exhaled deeply.

"Mm. Three days from now, a girl from my village is coming to the tavern to work as a waitress. For her first time, she wants to fetch a good price—two gold coins. Little Locke, you earned quite a bit on this trip. Help your big sister out, all right?"

"Huh? Isn't the tavern already staffed by you, Jumili, Sarah, and Nina? Why hire someone new?"

"Nina went back last month to get married. She isn't coming back. The girl from my village plans to work at the tavern for two or three years, save up some money, then return home to marry. I promised to find her a handsome and generous young man for her first time. Little Locke, will you help?"

Lorist answered vaguely, somewhat embarrassed, "We'll talk about it later..."

Then he sank back into the water.