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Post by b.d. adams on Mon Nov 18, 2013 11:23 am

(A collaborative effort ... enjoy.)

"You knew what would happen to her if she died, yet you let it happen anyway." Benjamin placed his mug on the wooden counter but retained his hand on the handle. His words tired yet still held a bit of strength. "Why is that, I wonder. It couldn't possibly be that it fit into your grand design. The big scheme of things and how it's suppose to go. No?" He scoffed and lifted the mug to drink the remainder of what was left.

The mug was settled again on the counter and he signaled to the barkeep to fill it back up. His hand never left the handle, Benjamin's thumb traveled up and down around the handles bend in thought. When the barkeep gave him a refill Benjamin put two more coins in front of him that were gladly taken.

His companion hadn't said a word since their earlier exchanged at the bar, and yet, continued to stay there next to him. Quiet, and with the hood of her dark red cloak drawn up over her face. Benjamin did not mind the quiet, not after what had happened in the forest earlier that night. Besides, people often said the most when they were silent.

He lifted his mug, leaning forward with his elbow on the bar and cup inches from his mouth. “Have you nothing to say to me now, woman.” Lowering his head down he saw the pure crystal that now hung from his neck on a leather string. It was about the size of his thumb and there had been more than a few people who had eyed it as well but, any thought of trying to take it away from him didn't get any further than that.

The drink was downed in a moment and, even as he sat it back on the counter and ordered another, his present companion spoke. “Ye ‘aven’t agreed tae the contract,” came the steady voice from under the hood.

“Now you decide to care . . .” Benjamin did not look in her direction.

The speaker pressed on more aggressively, “I need ya tae agree tae the terms.”

“I don’t give a damn what you want.” Benjamin hissed in retaliation, his hold on the mugs handle was so tight that it shattered under the force. He opened his hand and picked out the bloody shards from his palm and dropped them into the mug.

Benjamin cupped his cut hand to keep the blood from falling out - it would stop bleeding momentarily. Standing he placed extra coin by the now damaged mug. “What you want doesn’t matter.  Not anymore.”  He left out the bar.

The barkeep took up the coins but, when she reached for the damaged mug, the speaker with the hood reached out with her glove covered hand and took it. “Ye don’t need damaged goods.” She said, pulling the mug to her. The barkeep only shrugged, if someone wanted to keep a ruined mug it was no business of hers.

The speaker looked into the mug and at the mixture of shards, blood, and liquor, and smiled to herself.

b.d. adams

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