Lynn
The inkeeper’s daughter
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Hard times had fallen onto our village, although by the reports coming in from refugees, Woodsdale had gotten off rather lightly in comparison. We were lucky to be a site of trifling military importance and with only a half-dozen men at arms to protect us, the battle was bloody but short. Avryth’s soldiers had beaten our meager defenders bloody, hanged the lord, and installed their own within a few hours that morning. No homes set ablaze, no senseless killing in our dirt streets. Not yet, anyhow. No one seemed to have much hope anymore. We just wanted the war to be over, most of us, and didn’t care who one. Whichever it was would tax us dry to pay for their war anyways.
It had been two weeks since the invasion, and business had been flowing, at least. Refugees, soldiers, mercenaries…all needed a hot meal and a bed for the night. Of course, most soldiers didn’t pay, but the more kind, or perhaps the more disciplined, did.
I’m minding the tavern by myself this afternoon, just a few hours while Ma does the week’s washing and Pa is in the kitchen. Nobody but locals in today, mercifully. I wasn’t a fool. Everyone had always said I was the prettiest young maiden for fifty miles around, and I was sure to be a target. If some mercenary captain decided he’d have me…..
I shudder at the thought. It hadn’t happened yet, and no use dwelling on what might not happen, Ma always said. Still…..nobody could do anything to stop it if that happened. Not Pa, not any of the village men. Or they’d try and get put in the stocks.