Bob The Innkeeper 21 Chapter 21 Bloody Taxes

"Percival, send for a cleric right now!" he cried, and proceeded to drag Bob into the back room.

Percival's head snapped up in alarm, and ran for the door without hesitation. Bob followed his dad, confused. The moment they were in the back room, away from everyone his dad began to whisper to him frantically, slas.h.i.+ng his hand and dripping blood all over a handkerchief.

"I don't know where you got that s.h.i.+rt, but people would have noticed the murder attempt. If you are magically unhurt, who ever is behind it will try harder the next time. We need to make it look like you were harmed severely. The cleric will heal me, and then you will keep this handkerchief so the people on the street will think you were indeed hurt. We'll talk more later. I want you to hurry home with two guards, and stay there until I can get to you."

"Can I go to my store instead?" he asked. "The adventurers and people there will get upset if they know what happened, and will add another layer of protection."

His dad thought about it for a moment, holding the make-s.h.i.+ft bandage around his hand, then nodded, quickly pressing the injured hand and b.l.o.o.d.y handkerchief to Bob's belly as they heard the cleric rus.h.i.+ng into the shop.

"Quickly, heal him!" gasped his dad, hiding his pain well.

Bob tried his best to look panicked, but knew everyone probably saw through it, however, the cleric held his hands over his dad's hands, and began to chant. He didn't understand a word he said, but his hands began to glow, and warmth spread throughout Bob's belly, bringing a smile to his face. Hector gave a brief sigh of relief as well, and straightened up, leaving the b.l.o.o.d.y bandages.

"You will have an escort back to your store, and guards around the clock until I can get this cleared up," his dad growled, storming out of the room.

The cleric smiled at him warmly, then asked, "Do you feel better?"

"Thank you, I appreciate your ability very much," said Bob, showing his relief plainly. Only he knew it was relief that his dad was healed, rather than himself.

"I can't fathom why anyone would want to kill a boy such as yourself. I recall a friend of mine saying your store is one of the best in the whole city," beamed the cleric, his voice soothing and his eyes twinkling.

"Thank you, I try my best. If you find yourself in that area, I would treat you to a free bowl of my soup."

"I've heard of it. I would enjoy that."

Bob watched the cleric leave, and took up the b.l.o.o.d.y handkerchief, looking at the still fresh blood that had soaked through it. His s.h.i.+rt was still pristine, and he knew what his dad had done was important. As he stepped out of the back room, he saw that his dad was talking to two adventurers. The door was open, and a crowd had gathered of curious people, straining to see what was going on. Bob quickly pulled his cloak around himself, trying to hide the b.l.o.o.d.y rag, but knew that everyone would be talking about how he must have been seriously hurt.

"You will escort my son back to his store, and keep him safe from anyone who would try and harm him. I will pay you for every day you are needed," said his dad.

Bob recognized one of the two adventurers as the man who had found out that Clark was behind the two guys who had tried to frame him. The other wasn't anyone he had seen yet.

They both nodded and turned to look at him, both noting the b.l.o.o.d.y rag he was holding in one hand, partially hidden behind his cloak.

"I need to change my s.h.i.+rt," Bob said, stepping toward the door, and they both fell in behind him.
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"I will check on you later, son," said Hector, clenching the hand he had sliced, and Bob wondered if it still bothered him.

"Alright father," he responded, leaving the store. The crowd quickly dissipated as they made their way back towards the poor section of town.

As his store came into view, Bob marveled at how much the builders had completed already. It looked like Sam had grabbed a couple more guys, because Bob could see five men working on finis.h.i.+ng the framework for the eastern room. They would soon be able to start on putting up the walls and putting in the floors. Sam saw he had two guards with him, and followed as he went into the store.

Vivian and Trudy looked on as the two guards continued to follow Bob as he came around the counter.

"You can wait here while I change my s.h.i.+rt," he told them.

"I'm sorry, Bob, but your father is paying us to keep you safe. At least let one of us go upstairs to ensure that there isn't anyone waiting for you," said the one he knew from before.

"Alright," he nodded, as the man started up the stairs.

"What's going on?" asked Trudy, frowning at the man as he came back down.

"It's clear. You can go up and change. We'll wait for you here," he said.

"I'll explain in a minute," said Bob as Sam came into the room, looking curious.

Bob rushed upstairs, making sure to rummage around as if he were looking for a s.h.i.+rt, then threw the b.l.o.o.d.y rag onto the top of his dresser before coming back down the stairs.

"You were attacked?!" yelped Trudy, turning on him as he appeared on the stairs.

"I was, but father had a cleric heal me. I am to stay here, until we find out what's going on, so I will need you to run my errands for me," he said to Trudy, who nodded her head, still frowning.

"That's rough," said Sam, shaking his head.

"Sam, what would it take to get those beds I spoke to you the other day, finished before tonight?"

"I'm afraid it can't be done, as there isn't enough room upstairs for them all yet. Once we can get the room over the eastern addition finished, I can get those beds done for you. Probably by tomorrow."

Bob sighed. Vivian would have his bed for one more day, as he couldn't stand the thought of throwing her onto the floor, despite the fact that she should be there, being a debt slave.

"Alright. It's looking great out there. Do your workers want a bowl of soup?" he asked, watching as Sam's eyes lit up in delight.

"We would love some. That's the best soup I've ever had in my life, and I don't normally like soup."

As Sam left, Trudy turned to him, for him to inform her of the things he needed for her. Vivian quietly went back to stocking shelves.

"Trudy, I need to speak to the merchant who sells the mage ink in town. I've recently learned that mage's need specialty ink for their spell books, and I know that I don't have that. If I want to increase the number of mages who buy from me, then I need to stock what they need. Could you arrange for him to stop by this evening, if he can?"

"Of course. Is there anything else?"

"Only the normal rounds of checking on the food merchants. Also, could you check on the clothing I ordered through Martha? I want to make sure she doesn't need anything, and would like to know when she might have some things ready."

Trudy nodded, then headed out.

"You really do care about your contacts," said the unknown adventurer as the store was empty of customers for the moment.

"Of course. How can I expect them to be willing to do business with me, if I'm not nice?" asked Bob, giving him a confused look.

"I should introduce myself," said the man who had worked for him before. "My name's Leo, and this lunk here, is my brother Zach."

Zach nodded leaning against the wall in the gap between the counter and the wall, where someone would have to go in order to get around the counter.

"Hey!" he burst out, as his eyes looked around the store. "You have a mission board!"

"Awesome!" exclaimed Leo, heading over to check it out. "They're wanting more people to help with that dungeon to the West. Apparently, there's a lich there causing trouble. More guard duty for traveling merchants, there's been an increase in monster activity around the city, the head priest is missing one of his relics, some wizard is claiming to have misplaced a small elemental, and they're wanting the sewers cleaned out, since the sludge down there has started to freeze."

"Not much to choose from, just yet. I hope the selection picks up," said Zach.

An older man wearing rags came into the store, and started to check out the old food for sale.

"Charlie?" gasped Leo, grabbing the old man by the arm. "What are you doing here? Whatever happened to your butcher shop?"

"Butcher shop?" asked Bob, recognizing the old man as a regular customer who often came in with his older son. Their wives had died in the plague, and they were struggling to survive.

"I lost it," said the old man softly, tears starting to form in his eyes. "That horrible man, Lord Richmond took it and turned it into a bath house, or some other nonsense. Said the center of town was no place for a butcher with the smell and blood. It was too close to the n.o.ble estates. Raised my taxes until I had to sell, and then my permit was revoked because I didn't have a business. I don't have the money now, to buy a new place and I'm too old to start over from scratch. I've worked my whole life, and now I don't have anything to give to my son."