Chapter 93 - 92: The Second Captain’s Tale.

Chapter 93: Chapter 92: The Second Captain’s Tale.

As the captain of an army, Drogger finds there’s always lot to be concerned about. The movements of other armies, for one. Whispers of local barons overstepping their boundaries. Bandits, of course --always bandits.

And currently, how well his arguably closest friend appears to be getting on with Rogard Spidra.

...

The tavern isn’t nearly as terrible as he’d been expecting. In fact, kudos to Ynoro, it’s actually a fairly classy establishment. For a tavern.

Sure, there’s a drunkard or two, and a bit of something seedy going on between a man and woman in the alley outside, but the music is very good, and so is the ale.

Better than what they serve up at the castle, would you believe it.

It’s pretty odd actually, that Rogard can’t seem to remember the last time he left the castle walls. At least, without his father’s knowledge. He feels a little bit like a rebellious teenager again.

The barmaid wanders over to their table, swinging her hips like she knows half the men in the room are following them, and sets down an armful of ales that Ynoro practically elbows Fricha in the face to pay for.

"You again?" she titters, flirting the way barmaids do for extra tips. Rogard knows the play well, but Ynoro, bless him, is caught up in the trap,hook, line and sinker.

"I had to see you," he chimes back, pressing gold into her hands with reverence, "You’re always such delightful company."

"You’re a flirt, My Lord," she teases goodnaturedly, like this is an old game of theirs, "I’m sure you say that to all them fancy girls up in your big castle."

She’s right, but Ynoro takes it in stride.

"That doesn’t make it untrue," he points out, and gives her a gentle smile, "How about you join me, this evening?"

"We’ll see," she replies loftily, and slays the man by winking at him as he departs.

" --Keep the drinks coming, my dear," he hollers after her, a foolish smile plastered all over his face as he turns to face Rogard, "She’s lovely, isn’t she? Prettiest barmaid this side of the city."

Rogard...doesn’t really know what to think.

"Yeah, and using you for tips," he says, taking another deep swig of his ale and humming his approval as it goes down sweet. Ynoro takes this information in stride.

"That doesn’t mean there isn’t chemistry," he points out, which, well, Rogard can’t argue with.

Apparently there are a lot of women that Ynoro believes he has chemistry with, because even before Drogger arrives he buys drinks for four more --and gets slapped by two of them --and starts chatting up a fifth.

All while his lovely barmaid looks on, rolling her eyes. While he’s busy trying to win her back --if he ever really had her in the first place --Rogard makes small talk with some of the local ladies that Ynoro hasn’t managed to offend yet.

They’re pretty, and sweet, and don’t talk like common folk so he guesses they maybe have brothers, or fathers who are soldiers. Or a betrothed.

One’s wearing a flashy little ring that just screams promised to another , and Rogard humours her until she finds the rugged commoner she’s going to slum it with for a night to spite her husband-to-be, or whoever arranged the match.

Or maybe just for the thrill of it.

Ynoro sinks back down into the chair beside him as she figures out that she’s struck out with him.

"She turn you down, huh?" he sighs, completely misreading the situation and patting Rogard on the shoulder in consolation.

Until a pair of what appear to be sisters catch his eye, and hold it, as they cross the room. "It’s tough, but you just have to pick yourself up and keep going, you know?"

"Which one are you going to buy a drink?" Rogard inquires curiously, as Ynoro brushes some imaginary dust off the empty seats next to him and gestures for the two ladies to join them.

"Both of them, of course," he replies, signalling the bartender, who looks like he both pities and admires Ynoro’s tenacity.

Rogard gets it, somehow. "Oh, would you look at that," he adds, glancing somewhere over Rogard’s left shoulder towards the door, "Drogger actually came."

Seeing is believing, so of course Rogard looks. And as it turns out, Drogger’s telling the truth, because who else should be standing in the doorway looking like he’d rather not be, than the captain himself.

Looking very much not like a Captain, too.

Like the other soldiers, Rogard had exchanged the plate armour for something a little more comfortable and activity appropriate, and had even managed to fix his hair with Ynoro’s help and a little water.

It looks like Drogger’s had the same idea. Or at the very least been politely informed that he wasn’t allowed to wear his armour.

In any case, it’s a little bit jarring to see him in plain clothes. A grey tunic, and matching trousers, at that. It’s a little bit of a shock actually, to see that he owns plain clothes. Rogard kind of just assumed he slept in his uniform.

It’s not a particularly fashionable outfit --most of the soldiers are in silk shirts or linen --but it’s tailored to fit, and very practical. Very Drogger.

Rogard waves, and raises his mug in greeting, but Drogger takes one look at the table he’s sitting at and immediately makes a beeline towards the bar, where some of the other soldiers are loitering and trying to look like they aren’t a part of whatever it is Ynoro is doing.

Frankly , Rogard’s insulted. He’s excellent company. He’s built a reputation off of it.

And they say nobles are snobs.

It’s a good thing one of the sisters quickly decides that Ynoro’s not the man for her. The other appears quite smitten.

For now. And Rogard knows it’s his job to entertain her suspicious sister until Ynoro somewhat inevitably messes up.

From this evening’s track record, that won’t be long.

So he does just that. He smiles at her, and makes her laugh, and when he brushes a lock of hair back off her face she blushes up to her ears and pretends she’s not.

She’s quite sweet actually, fiercely protective of her younger sister and the right amount of clever without being too intimidating, and she can certainly hold her drink.

Maybe he’s just getting tired of the same old same old with the daughters of nobles, but it’s the most he’s enjoyed a conversation with a woman in a long time.

Which makes it all the more stranger that every so often he finds his attention drifting away. It’s a bad habit of his, phasing out when he’s not invested.

His father thought he’d trained it out of him, when in reality his son had just gotten a whole lot better at hiding it.

He’s just lucky she seems to like him enough that she hasn’t noticed yet.

It’s not like he’s doing it on purpose. It’s just that for some reason, Drogger, still lingering at the bar with his men, is making an egregious attempt at avoiding direct eye contact with one of the barmaids.

Which Rogard would have attributed as the classic method of avoiding an awkward encounter with a previous lover, except that he’s trying to avoid all the barmaids.

And despite his reputation as a soldier there’s nothing about Drogger that really screams ladykiller .

"What’s with him?" he finally asks Ynoro, when his curiosity gets the better of him. It’s a bad move. The lady friend he was meant to be entertaining had been talking to him.

Ah well. It’s not like he was interested anyway.

"Oh, our dear captain is terrible with women," Ynoro explains patiently, when Rogard points to the bar. He says it like it’s a real enigma. "Awful. Can’t talk to them. Been a problem his whole life."

" You’re kidding me ." Because there’s no way Ynoro’s for real. Drogger Noog is one of the most powerful military men this side of the sea.

He’s a man who is feared and revered by his enemies and his friends alike, and praised as a swordsman and a leader.

And he can’t talk to women.

Insanity.

"Believe me, I wish ," Ynoro rolls his eyes long-sufferingly, and Rogard has to entertain the outrageous notion that he actually might not be fucking with him.

"As you can probably imagine, it’s made it rather difficult to set him up with anyone," he sighs, sipping at his drink mournfully, "It’s a wonder he ever managed to catch one in the first place."

Well if Ynoro hadn’t already had Rogard’s attention, that would have done it.

"Master’s...married?" In all the time he’s spent back at the training grounds, he hadn’t noticed a wedding band --not that he’d been looking --so he immediately goes looking for it on Drogger’s left hand. It’s empty. There’s not even a tan line.

"Was," Ynoro corrects, and Rogard feels a pang of shame.

"Oh," he says, looking down into his drink, "I’m...sorry?"

"Don’t be," he sniffs, startling him with an uncharacteristic coldness to his words, "She ran off with another man.

Into some nasty business. Bandit kind of business, you see? But he promised her fame and wealth and status and like an idiot she believed him.

Then the guy went and got them both killed, he did." He shrugs, correctly interpreting Rogard’s slack jaw as utter shock. "Drogger doesn’t like talking about it."

"I don’t think I would either," Rogard mutters in disbelief, raising his glass to his lips, eyes wide.

Funny how much can happen with the passage of time.

Huh. His mug’s empty again.

"I’m going to get another drink," he announces, and his chair scrapes across the ground as he stands up.

"I’ll come with you," Ynoro decides, "A moment, ladies." He doesn’t seem to notice that one is completely uninterested in him.

And Ynoro know’s, as a matter of fact. Oops. Vector had often accused him of being fickle.

Mean, but possibly with an ounce of truth.

The pair of them make their way up to the bar and ambush Drogger from both sides as he relaxes into a conversation with one of his fellow soldiers.

A conversation that he makes it known that they’ve gone and interrupted.

"Dressed for the occasion, I applaud you," Ynoro remarks in delight as he orders a fresh round of drinks for them despite Drogger’s insistence that he’s already got his one drink and he’ll be sticking to it. "Women appreciate a well-dressed man."

"They do," Rogard agrees, since Ynoro seems to appreciate his support as much as Drogger dislikes it.

"I see you’ve been enjoying yourselves," Drogger deadpans, swiftly changing the subject and glancing towards their table. "I didn’t want to interrupt."

"Nonsense," Ynoro scoffs, accepting his ale with a flirtatious wink for the barmaid. "Rogard’s charmed the eldest, but they came with friends --" He takes a sip and gestures with his mug towards another table where a group of young women are eyeing them up and giggling.

"Sorry for leaving you with him," Drogger remarks flatly, sounding a little queasy.

"Rogard’s been a delightful wingman, actually," Ynoro replies smoothly, "You know, I thought maybe he would end up hogging all the attention, but --"

"Oh, I wasn’t talking to you."

He sends a deeply meaningful and somewhat apologetic look in Rogard’s direction and it makes him laugh into his drink.