The Accidental Archmage Edmund Batara (books you have to read .txt) 📖

and armed with a large battleaxe strapped to his back, was waiting for him.

“My lord Havard?” inquired the man.

“Are you Jorund the huskarl?” inquired Tyler in turn.

“Yes, my lord. Where do you want to go today?"

“The merchant district, I think,” he replied.

“It’s a bit early, my lord. Many shops may not yet be open.”

“It’s fine. I just want to see the town. A tavern thereafter would be great.”

Tyler absolutely wanted to see a tavern. Images of such establishments he had visited

during his RPG gaming sessions went through his mind. Though excited about it, he

tried not to let it show. But his voice may have shown his interest, he noted, it came

out too fast and in an embarrassingly eager manner. All that was left was for him to

scream his excitement like a 12-year old girl at a boyband concert. He really was

disappointed with himself.

“What tavern would that be, my lord.”

“The Mended Horn and Lied’s Rest come recommended. Which would you chose?”

“The Mended Horn attends to both merchants and wealthy warriors. Lied’s Rest is more

expensive and finds favor among the nobles, wealthier merchants, and important

persons.”

“The Mended Horn it is,” choose Tyler. He didn’t care about the nobility and wealthy

merchants. They usually proved to be brainless, conniving and greedy oafs. His

presence there would also attract attention.

Maljen, from what the Gothi told him, though an important town, had only around

8,000 permanent inhabitants in the town and its environs. From what he knew, the rich

elites usually belong to an exclusive circle. He was sure he would stick out among the

tavern’s guests. The Mended Horn appeared to be the one which catered to well-off

travelers and traders. It promised a greater degree of anonymity. More importantly, he

truly wanted to see what a real tavern, complete with warriors and adventurers, would

look and feel like. He could feel his excitement at the prospect of visiting the Mended

Horn.

“I was informed that you may be interested in a visit to the….. ladies?” asked Jorund.

Tyler appreciated the discretion, calling out the word “brothel” didn’t feel right. But he

was not interested. HIV might be non-existent in this world but the strong possibility of

STDs turned him off. He was not even sure if bathing and general hygiene were the

norms. He himself had not been offered the services of a bathhouse or even a bath

since he arrived. He had been cleaned of course, but while unconscious and under

medical treatment. Whoever saw his personal jewels better not make a joke out of it.

As they walked, most of the shops were indeed still closed. Jorund told him they usually

open an hour or two before the day-meal. Tyler guessed the current time to be around

nine o’clock in the morning. He had to remember to ask Ivar about time and

measurements here.

But the town continued to surprise him. The streets were paved with public drainage at

the sides of the road. All constructed with flat stones. The drainage system was covered

with either wood or stone slabs in front of structures. So far, he couldn’t see garbage

piled willy-nilly. Covered garbage cans in different forms and sizes were in front of

houses. Some made of some thin metal while others of a woven material. Public

cleanliness appeared to be the norm.

Along the way to the merchant district and the tavern, he could see people going about

their business. Most of them were walking and a few on horses. Wagons with covered

contents were prevalent. Most must be merchants preparing for the day, thought Tyler.

The people looked healthy and their attire well-made.

Yet he could see some beggars and street children in rags milling about. Not to mention

suspicious looking individuals leaning against the entrances to alleyways. But the

presence of an armed and armored Jorund, a tall and massively built warrior,

discouraged anybody thinking of making a mark out of him.

The tavern was the typical Nordic longhouse in form with some significant changes. The

roof was of wooden tiles and the outside walls of finished wooden planks had small

windows. The entrance had a decorative balustrade. A pair of life-sized but stylized

wooden statues of a warrior blowing a horn were on opposite sides of the main door.

The tavern sign was a square wooden affair with the name of the establishment. But a

carving of a horn hung below it, the wooden model having an obvious mended crack in

the middle of the horn.

There were only a few people in the tavern. Though it felt cozy and welcoming. Jorund

steered Tyler to a corner table, with Jorund facing the tavern’s interior and Tyler on his

right side. When a servant approached, Jorund asked for ale while Tyler also ordered

the same. He paid with one of the large silver coins from his money pouch and got back

some small silver coins as change. He planned to examine the coins when he got back

to the house. He couldn’t ask Jorund about the currency as it would expose him as

somebody new to Skaney, blowing his cover as an apprentice trader from Barholm.

Tyler looked around the tavern, the atmosphere was everything he expected. Some of

the few guests were warriors, armored and armed in a variety of ways. After a while,

he noticed somebody looking at him. He didn’t appear to be a warrior, rather a young

merchant. He wore a green cloak and his attire looked to be that of a rich trader. He

did wear a circlet on his long black hair, making him look elvish. The guest winked at

him and raised his mug in salute. Surprised, Tyler lifted his mug in reply.

The man stood up and walked towards their table, mug in hand. He didn’t appear to be

armed as his cape was gathered on his back. No weapons were visible and his belt only

showed two pouches tied to it. Of course, a dagger or some weapon could be hanging

from his belt at his back. Paranoid much? thought Tyler of himself. He tried to put

himself at ease but as the man drew closer, he became uneasy. He could feel

something was off about the man.

Stealing a glance at Jorund, the huskarl was looking at the approaching guest. He had

already placed both hands at the back of