Flash Fiction: Travelling Bad News

Faris Indra Baswara/180410135001

People called me Gorrin, I was a simple woodcutter in a small village. Jortun, that’s what we called our home. I gather woods for gold. Having no wife to fed, I spent that gold at the tavern. The tavern is the place where travellers could exchange information and news from others who happened to pass our village, In return the tavern provided shelter for them. At least that’s how it was in the past. Nowadays, Galafar the spy controls information around here and he usually charges them gold for information. That was what happened this afternoon. A group of traveller came to our tavern and asked Galafar about some temple. Strange lot they were. A Vartian, a Rovirian, and two Acreans travelled together? That really was a rare sight. But I tried to keep my mind out of it. Right now I’m sitting at my usual spot in the tavern which is the western side corner table, alone. My jug of mead is the only companion I need.

Tonight is colder than usual, lucky I had enough gold to buy more mead. After a couple more jug, I’m sure I’ll sleep like a lamb. The tavern’s door swung again. Two travellers came through the door. One traveller covered his face with a scarf, and the other had a chainmail protecting him. I could tell from the sound he made every time he took a step. I managed to take a glimpse of their green eyes, so I know they were Rovirian. They didn’t come for a drink from the way it looks because they immediately asked the barkeep of something, but the barkeep directed them to Galafar. The one with the chainmail is sitting in front of Galafar while his friend stood beside him. I know I should mind my own business, but I can’t help but overheard them talking. Apparently they were searching for the travellers that came this afternoon.

“…give me sixty gold.” I looked around and saw almost everyone is smiling after they heard Galafar. The chainmail clad man laughed and offered Galafar his right hand. That was quick. I hope Galafar would buy us another round after this is over. So I sat straight and sip my mead, but then I heard someone screaming. The sound came from Galafar’s table, so I instinctively put my eyes there. I held my breath as I see the chainmail clad man was holding a knife that pierced the table through Galafar’s hand. a second after, when Galafar’s companion only started to react , the other traveller pulled the sword from his scabbard and cut his head like it was butter. I recognise the sword. It belongs to a raider group called Kynara’s Hound. I had wanted to run but my feet are betraying me. That is when the rest of them came through the door and started slaughtering everyone. The man with the scarf comes to me with his sword in hand. But I only come here to drink!

Word count: 500

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