Bob The Innkeeper 1 Chapter 1 The Day He Became A Man

"Coming!" he hollered from his room, rus.h.i.+ng to shove his feet into his boots.

"I've decided you're old enough to contribute to the family name, and to stop leeching off of my hard-won profits," his father grumbled, not caring if he had made it down the stairs yet or not.

Throwing his coat at the boy, he ambled into the kitchen to see what was cooking. The maid hurried to take the coat from him, and hung it carefully in the tiny closet by the front door.

"Of course, father," Robert answered carefully.

"Are you giving me lip, boy?" the man thundered, whipping around to glare at him.

"No, sir!" he answered quickly, stopping short.

"Good. I've been given a small building by the City Lord, to bring more trade and adventurers to the city. That greedy n.o.ble, Clark, wanted it, but I was given it because I was able to provide enough proof that I could handle the extra work. It also helps that his wife likes the cheeses I got from that merchant last month."

His father sat down at the table as the cook rushed over with a bowl of stew.

"Stew again? Didn't I give you an extra silver last week? Why can't we have something more filling?" he grilled the cook.

"I'm sorry sir, but the price of meat has gone up again," stammered the cook, swallowing in fear.

Shoving the bowl away in disgust, he turned back to Robert. "If you can handle this c.r.a.p, you can have it, otherwise I want you down at the Poorman's Graveyard in an hour to see what all I have lined up for you."

Nodding quickly, Robert stepped out of the way as his father grumbled to himself, taking the coat back from the maid who had quickly retrieved it when it was obvious his father wasn't staying for supper. After the front door slammed shut, everyone in the room sighed in relief, almost deflating from the stress of his father.

"I'm sorry father has been so hard on all of you lately," Robert said to the two servants as he picked up the bowl, and noting a crack in it.

"It's alright, young master, we understand that he's under a lot of stress. Every since your mother died, he's been fighting to keep everything he's worked so hard for from disappearing," said the cook, noting the cracked dish as well, with a grimace.

"It's only been a week, dear. Are you sure you're up to whatever he has for you?" asked the maid, as the cook swapped the bowl of stew into a new dish.

"I'll be fine," Robert said, taking a bite of the stew. It honestly wasn't bad; the problem was just that they had eaten stew almost every day since his mother had died.

"I really am sorry that I made stew again, it's just that there aren't a lot of food items available until the farmers are allowed back in for trading. This blasted disease has really caused a lot of trouble."

"Stewart, it's fine, honest. I'm grateful that you can still provide us with something to eat. I know that a lot of other people have taken to sneaking into the trash dump at night."

"Well, I would probably be tempted too, if I was in the place a lot of those poor folk are, out there. They can't even leave the city to look for something, until the gates are opened back up."

"This disease has been horrible," said Stewart, shaking his head and taking the dirty dish back with him to the kitchen to clean.

"Shall I wait up for you?" asked the maid, handing him his jacket.

"If it was just for me, I would say no, but with the mood that father's been in the last week, I think it might be a good idea. There's no telling what mood he'll be in after he's had a drink down at the bar."

She nodded and shut the door gently behind him. It was already starting to get dark, but Robert knew the way well enough. He had taken the short cut through the Poorman's Graveyard on his way to school enough times, to not be tardy for cla.s.s.

Reaching the crossroads, that led to the graveyard, the poor section of town, the n.o.ble section of town, and the center, where his house was, he hesitated. There was an empty building here, that he knew every merchant and n.o.ble had wanted for a while, because there was a gate to the city on the other side of the graveyard. The City Lord had refused to let anyone buy it until now, because it was common knowledge his brother had wanted it. Robert wondered if this was what his father had gotten for him, and what he had in mind for it.

"Robert! There you are!" exclaimed his father, slightly out of breath. He looked tired in the lamplight, and Robert wondered if he was sleeping well.

"I came as soon as I could," he said, just loud enough for his father to hear.

Nodding, he motioned for Robert to follow him as he approached the building.

"It's not common knowledge just yet, that I got this place, so I wanted to act as soon as possible. We're going to open this place up and see what all it has inside. I'm hoping it's not in too bad of a shape. I want you to open your own shop here."

"Really?" Robert couldn't keep the excitement out of his voice. His father was one of the best merchants in the whole town, owning six stores already, and it had been Roberts dream to be able to run one when he was old enough. This was like a dream come true. If only his mom had lived to see it…

"Look son, I know it's been a rough week," his father said, pausing to swallow as his voice caught and he cleared it roughly before continuing. "But we need to keep looking forward. Your mother was an angel, but the rest of her family is nothing but a pack of wolves. As soon as she died, they haven't hesitated to show their fangs. You know her sister asked if you could come live with her? Said you were too young to be without a mother! The witch!" he grumbled pulling a key out of his pocket and fiddling with the door.

Robert took the lantern from him, so he didn't drop it, and held it up for him to see what he was doing. He knew that his father didn't get along with his mother's side of the family, because his father didn't have family. His mother had come from a low n.o.ble house, and they had regretted letting her marry as soon as they found out. There had always been tension, so Robert understood another reason for his father's surly mood.

"There we go!" crooned his father, pus.h.i.+ng the door open.

It stuck a little bit, making him grimace as he put his weight behind it, but it eventually opened enough for them to step inside. Waving the dust out of his face, where the door had disturbed it, Robert held the lantern up for them to look around.

It was a mess. The floor boards looked rotted, the stairs leading up to the second floor would definitely need to be replaced, and the door leading to the back room had fallen completely off its hinges.

His father sighed in disbelief and despair so deep, Robert glanced his way quickly.

"What am I going to do? I spent a fortune buying this place. I'll be the laughing stock come morning, when everyone sees the condition this place is in. I don't have the funds to fix it up and get it running as a store."

Robert thought about it, looking around quickly.

"They can't expect you to open first thing in the morning. Everyone knows that it's sat empty for years. That should buy us a little time to fix it up," said Robert, trying to cheer his father up. The look of hopelessness that crossed his face was more than he could bear.

"But how am I going to pay for it? This place needs to be gutted completely, and rebuilt! I was hoping that it only needed a good was.h.i.+ng and we could start moving stock in first thing in the morning. The wagons will be here at dawn."
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"Dawn?" asked Robert, unable to keep the surprise out of his voice.

"That rotten n.o.ble Clark had me bragging about how good I was at selling things, and orchestrated this whole thing. I bet he knew how bad this place was, and led me on intentionally."

Robert looked up at the boards above his head and sighed. "Do you think the floor boards on the upstairs is any good? We might be able to swap them down here for the rotten boards?"

His father took the lantern and held it up even higher.

"That might just work. Yes, I think it will! Good job, young man! You'll make me proud yet!"