Page 10 of I Destroyed the Elf Prince's Harem

The pub was what I’d expected and maybe even a bit better. I caught up with Nylian at the bottom of the stairs and we strolled into the large, crowded room. The bald, frowning bartender behind the long bar gave us a scowl as he shoved a tankard of ale in front of a man slumped on his stool but said nothing. A fire danced in the enormous hearth, keeping warm a giant black cauldron that put out a steady smell of hearty stew over the stench of body odor and old ale. A few lit candles dotted the walls, but mostly shadows filled the room, as if the occupants preferred not to be too visible to outsiders. Antlers and stuffed animal heads covered the walls as decoration, but there wasn’t much else to lend this place any charm.

What surprised me was the stage that stood at the far end of the room with an old upright piano and an assortment of instruments. Maybe this tavern was the center for entertainment and culture for Misty Pass, allowing for the occasional traveling minstrel or bard to ply their trade here for some coins and a hot meal. My hopes briefly lifted that I might see some of this entertainment, but a peek over at my companion reminded me that there were other things that needed my attention.

Nylian deftly navigated his way through the tables loaded with people. Some were playing cards, others were telling stories over their alcohol, and a few were shoveling thick stew into their mouths without looking up, content to keep their noses out of the business of others. He settled at a table near a dark corner, dropping into the seat that put his back to the wall and gave him an excellent view of most of the floor.

As I was claiming the seat across from him, a barmaid with curly red hair and a smattering of freckles across her cheeks appeared at my elbow.

“Been a while since I’ve seen your kind around these parts,” she announced, her eyes sweeping over Nylian before giving me a quick glance.

“I’m only passing through. What are you serving tonight?” Nylian replied.

“We’ve got a wild boar stew and the cook’s special pot pie.”

“Two bowls of your stew and a bottle of wine, please.”

I stared at the elf. Not even going to allow me to order for myself.

When the barmaid disappeared, Nylian leaned toward me. “The stew is most likely fresh, made with something that was killed today. Anytime a tavern offers something in a pie or calls it special, they’ve scraped together whatever hasn’t sold from the previous day.”

“You make it sound like you travel a great deal,” I said.

“And you don’t remember shit. This is the last free lesson you’re getting from me.” Nylian leaned back in his chair and folded his arms over his stomach. “Tomorrow, we go our separate ways. I’ll leave you with enough money to pay for a few nights at this inn and food. Judging by your clothing, I’m sure there are people searching for you even as we speak.”

“Maybe, but how do you know that I’m not on the run from something? It might be safer for me if those people didn’t find me.” I countered.

“That sounds very much like a you problem. I’ve got enough problems of my own.”

“And maybe I can help you with your problems,” I pressed, infusing my words with as much enthusiasm as I could muster. Nylian opened his mouth to argue, but I held up a hand, stopping him. “Look, I know I’m a hindrance, but I’m sure my memory will return soon. In the meantime, I can help watch your back. Give you a hand with things. It’s got to be easier to travel with someone there to help than to do everything alone.”

Nylian clenched his teeth and quietly bit out, “I can handle things on my own.”

“Oh, I’m sure you can, but why do that if you don’t have to?”

The return of the barmaid with our food and wine halted our conversation. The stew smelled better than it looked. It was clear it had been bubbling away in that giant metal pot all day so that it was now reduced to a thick brown substance that was becoming more solid than liquid. I took a test bite, which sent me scrambling for my cup of wine. The alcohol was tart and strong, but it did a great job of stealing away the scalding heat from my tongue. As the pain faded, I caught the slightest hint of a smile lifting the corners of Nylian’s mouth as he picked at his bowl of meaty lava.

“See! You’d be so bored on your journey without me.” I pointed my spoon at him, and Nylian’s face returned to its usual blank stare. “We’ve already had a fun adventure with that crazy healer, and it could very well be your fault that my soul has been knocked out of whack.”

“I am not accepting responsibility for that,” Nylian argued.

“Sure, but you never know what exciting new thing I can bring to your journey. It’ll be fun, plus I can be helpful.”

“Helpful? You? The man who can’t remember how to ride a horse?” Nylian’s left eyebrow inched higher and higher up his forehead with every question. “Do you even remember how to use that sword you carry around?”

“It’s coming back to me, I swear it. I’ll be helpful in unexpected ways.”

Nylian pushed his nearly empty bowl into the center of the table and picked up his cup but didn’t drink from it, his eyes narrowing on me. He said nothing as I inhaled my stew now that it had cooled enough that it could be eaten without giving me second- and third-degree burns.

“Why are you so eager to travel with me?” he inquired.

“Maybe I like you,” I said, and we both gave a snort of laughter. Yeah, neither of us believed that. “Okay, how about I feel indebted to you?” I dropped my spoon into my empty bowl and pushed it aside. I picked up the wine bottle, refilled Nylian’s cup, and splashed more into my own. “You could have left me for dead in the forest, but you didn’t. Instead, you brought me to Misty Pass, took me to a healer. You even got me a room at an inn and a meal. I know you could have disappeared the moment I turned my head, leaving me alone, but you didn’t. You stayed.” I lifted my cup to him and grinned. “I’ve gotta repay that generosity.”

Lifting his cup to his lips, Nylian took a slow, deep drink without ever moving his eyes from my face. I smiled at him, waiting for him to declare bullshit. “There’s nothing to repay,” he announced when he lowered his cup to the table.

I snatched up the wine bottle again and replenished his supply. Maybe if I could get him tipsy, he’d be more agreeable. Not that I was counting on that course of action. It would be my luck that he could drink even the stoutest, most hardcore alcoholic under the table.

“There is. My conscience won’t allow me to let it be forgotten. And let’s not overlook that you need help. I know that I’m not your first choice, but I don’t see anyone else lining up to give you a hand.”

Nylian’s full lips pressed into a hard line, and he appeared as if he were about to smash that wine bottle over my head. “So, my only assistance in the world is a man who doesn’t know where he came from, how he got here, or where he was going. You can’t ride a horse, and I seriously doubt you can use a sword.” He huffed a bitter, almost soundless laugh. “You’re useless and destined to hold me back. Yeah, that sounds like my luck.”

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