Return to the Tavern

The Reeve talks to the Bartender

The rest of the trip was completed silently, with each person buried in their thoughts.  The driver slowed as they approached the swan and pulled to the walkway.  “We’re here, sir.  How long do you think you’ll be?”  He eyed the neighborhood warily, almost as if he believed someone would try to steal the landau. 

Drawn from his reverie, it took Balgair a few minutes to get his bearings.  “Umm.  Less than ten minutes.”  He glanced at Heather.  “Do you want to come in and grab your things?” 

The blonde-haired bean-cheangail shook her head.  “No, thank you, maighstir. All I need are in the bags from Maighstir Julius’ shop.”  She smiled, releasing his hand.  “I’ll just wait out here with Delilah.”

“As you wish,” Balgair murmured, sliding from the seat and climbing from the carriage.  “I’ll return shortly.” 

Feeling more at ease than he had in a long time, Balgair waved at Brandyn as he walked into the Tavern.

“How did your meeting at the Reve’s office go?”  the bartender asked, returning the wave. 

Balgair rocked his hand in a so-so wave, “It went okay.  I’m the new Reve.  I started today.” 

Brandyn arched an eyebrow.  “How was it?” 

“Not good,” Balgair caught Lucy’s attention. 

“Yes, Maighstir?”  The newly bonded woman knelt at his side. 

“Can you get our things from our room?”  He smiled at the beaming bean-cheangail.  “Julius should have delivered four bags earlier.” 

“He did, sir,” Lucy stated with a grin.  “What do you want me to do with them?”  She was at peace for the first time in a long time. 

“Heather and Delilah are waiting in a landau out front.  Can you take the bags there?”  Lucy nodded and completed the task, leaving Balgair and Brandyn alone. 

The bartender waited a second or two, then broached the subject again.  “Not good, in which way?”

“Where do I start?”  Balgair asked rhetorically.  “The Mayor, the Maighstir Magaidh, and the Captain of the guard are all out of town.” 

Brandyn froze, the glass halfway to his lips.  “All three of them?”  When Balgair nodded, the bartender shook his head.  “Doesn’t that violate some Council rule?” 

“It does,” Balgair admitted. “Luckily, I have the authority to use any communication crystal, no matter where I am.” 

“Ah.  So, you got in contact with the man himself.  How is Maighstir Rhyslin?  How were your bonds?”  The bartender took a sip of tea and waited for Balgair to answer. 

“Rhyslin is fine.  He’s going to release me from my contract in six weeks.”  When Brandyn looked at him in confusion, he said, “I’m going to be doing both jobs until then.  Rhyslin figured I could use my Captain’s authority to set the office right, hire ex-military personnel to be deputies, take care of the three knuckleheads who decided to be gone simultaneously, and ensure the county is up to snuff.” 

“All that, huh?”  Brandyn took another sip as he digested the information.  After doing the calculations in his head, he nodded. “That should just about be enough time.”  He filled a glass for Balgair and pushed it across the bar.  “How many deputies do you think you’ll need?”

The newly minted Reve accepted the drink.  “I’m thinking about hiring four squads.”  He brushed the side of his forefinger over his lips as he thought.  “That should give me enough to do a watch with three shifts and have a squad to do roving patrols.”

The ex-sergeant chuckled.  “I’d say you have a good idea of how to run that office.”  He lifted his glass with a smile. “I might have your first recruits.” 

Balgair laughed, “Let me guess.  The five freeloaders upstairs?”  When the bartender nodded, Balgair couldn’t help but agree.  “Send them into the office in the morning.  I’ll sign them up on the spot.”