Following his performance, Tric enjoys some watered-down “house special” with a few of his fans, including the veteran Jedeth who showed him and Heppa around the caverns where Gweddry found his amulet. Tric enthusiastically thanks him one more time for the sandwiches provided on that tour. A couple drinks later, another familiar fellow stops by. His name is Weiss, and Tric shared some drinks with him here at the start of summer. More recently, though, Tric saw him at a ferry crossing where Weiss made the wise decision to not participate in the raid on Henrick’s prisoner wagon. The other two ferriers are currently working off their crimes building a bridge at the Ford of Abez. Tric is glad to see that Weiss safely made it back to South Tower. The fellow does not say anything aloud about their mutual history, but he does acknowledge Tric and buy him a drink.
Further down the bar counter, Heppa sits chin in hand, idly sketching in her portfolio as she watches Alric work. She was a little surprised that Tric did not immediately break out his horse lord duel story, but at least the tale of Ash and the great white spider went over well. The hour grows late, and Alric announces it is time for everyone’s parting glass. Patrons shuffle out the front door or, if they are staying overnight, plop down on the edge of the stage, waiting for the floor to be cleared for the bedrolls.
Heppa puts away her writing material, resolving that now is the time to tell Alric about the visit to his parents. Before she can work up the courage though, he comes back over to her end of the bar and says with a smile, “So tell me about this skull,” as he begins wiping the counter down. I can always tell him tomorrow, Heppa reflects, launching into a recounting of Mal-Vektor’s staff, her theories on resonance chambers, and the explosion when Tric threw the skull in the bonfire. Alric cleans glasses while he listens, happy to see how excited she is about the topic.
Tric, meanwhile, grabs the other end of a table that Heledd is dragging and brightly asks her how she is doing. This is not nearly as heavy as the oak table they carried upstairs for his dinner party with Mhaev and Terwaen, but it is still more than just one person should deal with. “Had to slug anyone recently?” he quips.
“Not yet,” she replies. “We’ll see how you do.”
Tric chuckles. “Last fight I was in, they got me good, but I won out in the end.”
“It’s better to avoid fights if you can manage that,” Heledd argues. “Better to not get caught.”
“No, it’s just better to not lose fights. If you win a fight, it’s perfectly fine to have been in one,” Tric counters.
“That depends on what you got out of it.”
“What did I get out of it? I got someone else what they needed,” Tric says, thinking of Sir Anyc and his new sword.
Heledd gives an appreciative nod. That seems to be something she can relate to. But then she looks past Tric’s shoulder and shouts, “Haskel! I’m not going to move all these tables myself.”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah. I’ve got the benches. It’s fine,” the new server replies soothingly.
* * *
When Heppa is done answering Alric’s questions about the skull incident, it occurs to her that telling him in the morning about Damal’s mistreatment of him might ruin his whole day. On the other hand, telling him this late at night might ruin his whole night. The only way to win is to never tell him, but Alric deserves better than that. Out here in the main room, where the staff is still cleaning up and overnight guests are lingering, is too public a place for that conversation, though. She needs to get Alric somewhere more private, like behind one of the sets of velvet curtains in the room. While she is mulling this over, Alric is loading up a tray to take back into the kitchen. Heppa hurriedly follows him as he backs through the curtains, and Alric jokes to her, “You don’t need to wash the dishes.”
Yggy is already gone for the night, making this space completely private. Alric sets down his tray of dishes, and Heppa blurts out, “I have a message from your parents.”
Startled by her words, Alric turns to Heppa, his face pale from shock. She lays a hand reassuringly on his arm and begins delivering the verbal component of the message. “They miss you, and they’ve been writing you,” she tells him.
“They’ve been writing me?” he echoes, incredulous.
“They wanted you to know they haven’t been silent and they’re not mad at you. I have this letter,” she hurries on, digging through her map portfolio for the sealed tri-fold. She holds it out to him, and Alric takes it with his right hand. He slides his thumb under the wax seal and then gives the letter a sharp flick to open the sheet. He looks at it for a moment, and Heppa hears him mutter to himself, “This is definitely from my mother.” Then he looks up at Heppa, and his voice cracks as he asks her, “Can you read this to me?” The letter is shaking in his hand.
“Let’s sit down,” Heppa suggests. She puts her arm around Alric and guides him out of the kitchen into his bedroom. She sits him down on his bed and settles next to him to read the letter aloud. It contains the same sentiments as she has already voiced but with more details. Lonfar and Osian want to know how Alric is, and they want to hear back from him. Nothing in the letter specifically addresses the topic of Damal’s meddling, but Alric knows the workings of messenger services and can draw such conclusions on his own. Heppa’s arm is still around Alric, and she can feel him tensing up. She only knows a small sliver of this whole situation. That is enough for her to judge Damal harshly for the decisions he made, but not enough for her to understand how Alric feels right now. She does not have the words to break through whatever is storming behind his dark brown eyes.
Abruptly, Alric stands up and stalks out of his room. Heppa scurries after him as he passes through the kitchen and out into the barroom. At least he didn’t grab his knives, she thinks. Maybe we should have had a few drinks together first. Alric does not tell her to stop following him, but that may be because he does not even notice.
Tric has just finished helping Heledd move the last table when Alric pushes through the curtains from the kitchen into the main room of the Parting Glass. “You’re locking up tonight,” he says sharply to Heledd, not slowing at all as he continues through the room and out the front door onto the late night streets of South Tower.
“Do you need me to…?” Tric calls to Heppa, seeing his cousin rushing to the front door herself. “Is everything all right?” Maybe they just had some sort of lovers’ quarrel. She mouths something back at him. As he heads over to her, he admonishes, “I can’t hear what you’re—oh! Parents.”
“I don’t know what he’s going to do,” she whispers, hand on the front door.
Tric turns back to Heledd. “I think it’s some family stuff with Alric. I should make sure he’s all right.”
“Yes, Tric is family,” Heppa says. “They’re cousins.” Or whatever. Some kind of kin. Enough that Tric called Lonfar his auntie.
“Hunh. Damal hasn’t been around here very much lately,” Heledd comments. She shrugs and lets the topic go, fine with following Alric’s snapped orders. It seems that locking up is not a new task for her.
Haskel’s interest is peaked. “What’s going on folks? What’s the matter here? Need some backup?”
“I think we’ve got it handled,” Tric says, though Heppa does not look as sure. “And I think those benches need more straightening.” With that, he and Heppa rush out of the bar.