Chapter 276 - 274: Eyes At The Other End Of The Bar.

Chapter 276: Chapter 274: Eyes At The Other End Of The Bar.

Fear is something common to all men. And up until this precise moment, Montrel thought he knew what it felt like to be afraid.

But he was wrong; no bandit, beast, or spirit in the dark has ever filled him with dread so deep, so piercing, and so overwhelming as the look in Loac’s eyes.

​It is utterly petrifying .

​"... Do I need to ?"

​Montrel swallows. Or at least he tries to. Suddenly, it’s like he can’t even move.

​Fair enough .

​It’s a good thing that he has no intentions of making her cry.

​"...I guess not," Montrel croaks weakly, and just like that, the look vanishes, and with it the suffocating weight bearing down on his chest.

​It doesn’t feel like approval , exactly; given their history that would have been entirely too much to ask, but the fact that his nose --and the rest of him --is still intact has to count for something, he supposes.

If the princess is happy with him that’s all that matters, and as much as Loac might not respect him, he gets the feeling that on some level he can respect that.

So with a low, shaking breath, he decides to take the peace offering for what it is.

That is, until he takes a swig and is immediately repulsed by how disgustingly sweet it tastes.

​" Gods, how can you drink this sweet stuff??" Montrel gags, pulling a face as Loac downs a hearty gulp without even flinching and sends him a sidelong glance.

​"Do you want it or not?" he sniffs, and Montrel hurriedly hauls it off the bar before he changes his mind.

​"I’ll take it!" he grimaces, already feeling the hangover coming on after one mouthful of the sweet stuff, "But I’m buying the next one.

And it won’t be this, fuck ." Loac just shrugs, and smoothly shoulders past him; the dejected kid from earlier nowhere to be found.

​"Suit yourself."

​Montrel briefly wonders if it’s possible he had just imagined it, but pushes it from his mind an instant later.

They’re here to have a good night out, after all. And that starts here.

​"So, which pie did you get?" he asks Khobi as he slings himself down into the seat next to him.

Mural, Jaga and Mural are already three rounds deep in a card game, and there’s the usual tidy pile of gold sitting in front of Mural.

The guy’s gotta be a cheat; Montrel knows it.

​Two, Rogard answers instead, looking scandalised by the very notion . Khobi ordered two pies.

​Apparently he couldn’t decide between two of them, so he just ordered both.

​Montrel absolutely understands Rogard’s apprehension –he’d hardly managed to finish just the one by himself and he’d felt so full he’d all but sworn to never eat another thing in his life.

​In the end, Khobi eats three pies.

​It’s both disgusting and fascinating, and by the time he’s finished the second one, the barmaids, the cook, and several of the neighbouring tables are all wildly invested in his endeavour.

​And then, when he finishes off his third one, and decided that that’s just about enough food for the evening, a few of the most impressed are even offering to buy him drinks.

Which does a great service to Gandy and Montrel’s pockets, having been dealt the worst blows over the months of covering him.

Khobi lets a couple of them do exactly that, but it doesn’t sit all that right with him that he can’t return the favour.

No one seems to mind, though.

​No one’s keeping score.

​Montrel buys them all a round, and Gandy the next.

Rogard pays for the third, and gets unanimously booed when the barmaids bring them wine instead of ale.

They drink it anyway, because it’s alcoholic and it’s free, and by this stage the tavern is getting boisterous and loud and half of it ends up on their shirts and on the tables as their games get lively and they stomp to the frenetic beat the bards strike up together.

​It’s the most fun Khobi’s ever had.

​He’s pretty good at holding his liquor, but eventually the drinks start to take hold and a warm, comfortable buzz sets in.

Not just in him, but in all of them.

How can it not, what with spirits running and the fires burning hot and bright to repel the bite of the evening air? They’re here to celebrate, and that’s what they do.

​Jaga pays for a song in Montrel’s honour.

Gandy and Rogard warble along for a verse or two, until the bard flicks them each a gold to stop.

The tavern roars with laughter at that, and Gandy quite comically has it in for the guy for the rest of the night.

Unsurprisingly, he’s a bit of a heckler, but the bard is a good sport about it, and makes up a rather rude song about him right on the spot that has the entire tavern in stitches as he dances between tables with Gandy scrambling after him.

​He doesn’t catch him. But it’s certainly fun watching him try.

And Gandy seems to feel better about the whole experience when Mural tells him that one of the barmaids had seemed to enjoy the show.

​They toast to Montrel and then to his health, and then a third time in the hopes that he doesn’t fuck this up for himself.

He complains good-naturedly about that third one, which unfortunately for him, prompts his fellow soldiers to launch into great detail about all his previous failings when it comes to women.

​And there are a few. Each one is worse than the next, and by the time Montrel is red in the face, Rogard and Khobi –who haven’t heard most of these before –are hanging off each other howling along at his expense.

...

For as good as he is at drinking, it turns out he’s no good at whatever card game it is that Mural keeps beating Montrel at, but they’re not too many drinks in before a smith from the table next to them with a sharp jaw and a cocky grin challenges them to a new game.

Khobi has to wonder if it’s just be a ploy to join them.

He certainly hopes it is; he’s seen the guy looking his way for the last hour or so, and he’s certainly easy on the eyes.