In Which Florian Sees the Ironic Smile

January 9, 1172

"God, I just can't understand it." Florian finished what was left of the bottle's contents and placed it side-down on the counter, earning a disapproving glare from that insufferable Seoth. "After all these years, you finally get a chance to be your own man, and only nine days later, you're getting married again. I don't get it."

Shrugging, Falidor took a last sip of the goblet in front of him, then handed it back to the innkeeper. "You don't have to get it--although it's not that hard to get, really. I love her."

"Yes, but... nine days?" These nine days had been the only glimpse of bachelorhood poor Falidor had been granted since he was a boy of sixteen, and there was no way a man gave that up so easily--no matter how in love he was. Florian had to get to the bottom of this. "Look, you can tell me: is Raia's father making you marry her before the baby comes?"

On the groom-to-be's other side, Aldhein bowed his head and groaned; Falidor nearly choked. "Uh... what?"

Florian rested his elbow to the counter surface and leaned toward his friend, perhaps a little perversely triumphant--after all, he must have been right. "He is, isn't he?"

Falidor sighed. "No, he's really not."

"Err... Falidor?"

It was the baker, whom none of them liked, but who seemed unaware of the fact. Florian pulled himself back upright; he normally enjoyed tormenting Roveln, but on the eve of his friend's poorly-timed wedding, he was a little preoccupied, so he tried to ignore him. Falidor, on the other hand, decided to be polite. "Yes?"

"Uh, well, now that you're divorced and getting remarried again," the baker began, his hands fidgeting as his eyes fell to the floor, "I just figured I should tell you that I'm sorry for sleeping with your first wife."

Quiet--then, as if startled by his own daring, he took a few hasty strides toward the door and vanished from the range of the window.

Florian snickered. "He actually said it to your face? What a--"

"You know what?" Cutting Florian off, Aldhein pushed back his pint and turned to face Falidor, a resigned, tired sort of look in his eye. "Maybe that was stupid, but it was also rather noble. Falidor, I'm sorry for sleeping with your wife too."

Well... that was news to Florian. If Falidor's cocked eyebrow was any indication, this was the first he'd heard of this too. "You slept with Ailede?"

Grim, Aldhein nodded. "In my defense, though, this was before I met Alsina and it only happened the one time."

"All right..."

"Falidor?"

Seoth crossed to the other side of the counter and took the empty barstool to Florian's left, then looked past him and locked eyes with Falidor. "I'm also sorry for sleeping with your--"

"Oh for the love of God!" Florian slammed his fist against the counter with a force that rendered the entire inn mute. This would probably be the only bachelor party Falidor was ever going to get and he'd be damned if it was going to be ruined by someone other than him! "Am I the only person in this room who hasn't had sexual intercourse with Ailede Wythleit?"

Never before had he been forced to endure such an awkward silence. "Well then..."

Aldhein sniffed. "'Well then' indeed."

Florian cast a glare around the room, making sure that every soul in the room was aware of his annoyance before finally turning to Falidor--poor, embarrassed, laughingstock Falidor. "So... are you going to pound the stuffing out of all these sluts, or what?"

Falidor glanced toward Seoth, then Aldhein, then back to Florian. His head shook; his lips formed an odd shape, almost like an ironic sort of smile. "No--why bother? I'm happy now."

NEXT CHAPTER:

In Which Seoth Hears Some Interesting Tidbits

August 31, 1169

"All right, Sextus, out with it!" Father Septimus demanded, pounding the counter-top with such force that Seoth made a mental note to inspect it for cracks later. He knew he was being somewhat paranoid, but it wasn't as if he hadn't had to pay for enough property damage after Florian had gotten it into his head to breed rabbits in the broom cupboard. That had been months ago, and Seoth had chased most of them out by this point, but every now and then a suspicious set of teeth marks on a table leg or banister that indicated the lingering presence of one or two of the little bastards. "Let's hear this so-called amusing anecdote of yours, and make it quick--there's a young lady back in my chapel who's just been begging to confess, if you catch my drift."

Seoth placed his hands on his hips and rolled his eyes. The priests came to his inn every month or so, normally to get roaring drunk and shout some of the people's more intimate confessions for all to hear. Not for the first time, he wondered if it was morally wrong to refuse service to clergymen; he supposed that at the very least, they'd never been around at the same time as Florian.

"Yes, Sextus." Father Quartus took a swig from his pint, then drove it back down with a thud! Seoth cringed--why couldn't all the troublemakers bother some other innkeeper once in a while? "And hurry it up, because I have a funny story myself--you'll never guess what duke's secretary has been up to lately."

"Oh, I don't know about that," Father Sextus muttered back. "Both of his mistresses live in my parish, you know."

Quartus sniffed. "Not what I was talking about, but all right. Now, just tell your damn story."

"Fine, fine--keep your robes on!" Sextus reclined as best he could on the barstool and took a sip of wine. "Now, picture this: piss-drunk wedding."

Quartus groaned. Beside him, Father Quintus shook his head in an exasperated fashion. "Sextus, you live in Veldorashire--you get a piss-drunk wedding every week."

Seoth caught sight of a smirk on Sextus's face. "Aye... but this time, it isn't so much what happened as who it was, if you follow. So anyway, it was about three hours ago, and this pair stumbles into my chapel, and they're both--"

"--drunk out of their minds, their hair all disheveled, bits of clothing about to fall off and slobbering all over each other," Septimus finished for him. "Sextus, you tell this story every time I see you. Now, out with it--who got impulsively and half-wittingly shackled together until death do them part this time?"

His brother laughed. "Easy, I was just getting to that. Anyway, they barge right up to me and demand for--"

"We know, we know!" Quartus clapped his hand to his forehead and moaned. "Just tell us who it was!"

"Fine, I get it--you don't like my set-up." Annoyed, Sextus grabbed the goblet in front of him and drained it. "Anyway, it was his lordship and his maid."

Seoth frowned. He'd been an innkeeper long enough to have heard more than his fair share of crazy things, but this was beyond belief. Nora, that curvy, deliciously blunt little scamp who could drink any man under the table and had once broken a jar over the baker's head--Lady Veldora. The very idea was so absurd that his impulses were stumped for a proper reaction. Nora, Lady Veldora; there had to have been some mistake.

Septimus let it out an appreciative guffaw. "Ha! The king's not going to be very happy about that!"

"Indeed--why else do you think I let them get married when they were that drunk?"

"Why do you ever let people get married when they're that drunk?" Seoth inquired, raising an eyebrow.

Sextus shot him an annoyed glare. "Do you mind? I'm trying to have a private conversation here!"

Now would have been an excellent time for someone else--anyone else--to walk in, but knowing his luck, no one did. Seoth pushed his hair out of his face and shook his head. "A little loud to be all that private, but what do I know? I'm only the man who owns this place and sells you spirits."

"Damn right!" Sextus snapped before turning back to his brothers. "Anyway, I doubt they'll even remember this in the morning. They were absolutely soused stupid; I wouldn't be surprised if one of them dies in the night."

"Well, that would work out just fine for you--you'd get a fare for both a wedding and a funeral!" noted Quintus.

Satisfied, Sextus grinned smugly. "And to think, all the people believe that those fares go straight to the orphanage, when really they're just funding our underground cockfights!" Well, that was an interesting tidbit--if there was one good thing about these priests, it was that they often provided plenty of blackmail material. "But really, I don't know how I'm going to keep myself from laughing the next time I see either of them--they won't even be aware of their own marital status."

"But that happens with every drunk that gets married in your chapel in the dead of the night," Septimus pointed out. "There's a man in this shire unknowingly married to his cat, for God's sake! The fletcher's betrothed is already wed to that traveling salesman who sells the funny mushrooms, and even old Seoth is an unwitting bigamist!"

Seoth cringed in horror. "What?"

"Seriously--private conversation!" snarled Sextus. "What the hell's wrong with you, you great stupid eavesdropping lummox? Anyway, it's different this time--I mean, imagine being a lady and never even knowing it! And the king wanted Lord Severin to marry some other girl, so what if he marries her two? There'll be two Lady Veldoras!"

"Oy!" piped up Quartus suddenly from the end of the counter. "You know what would be absolutely hilarious?"

Quintus turned to face him, and odd sort of smile on his mouth. "What?"

"What if we told the king about this?"

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