Tink. Tink. Tink.

The sealed entryway of the bedroom opened this morning, and Teddy was hungover downstairs. The second bar he and the missus checked out yesterday was packed with patrons. It was a real party and they stayed much too late; her so regretful to return to the hut for sleep.

Mostly Teddy was surprised he'd managed to even seal it over as drunk as he was last night.

If only the ‘Tinks’ upstairs matched the pounding in his skull, it might be more bearable. To quell his churning stomach, Teddy carved a chunk out of the wall and started to nibble on it; though, that meal churned his stomach even more.

It’s damn sure not vegetarian…

The ‘Tinks’ stopped and rubbled scraped across the floor. A melodious voice stung his ears.

“Oh my, I was afraid this would happen with the state you were in last night,” Monteguem said from the top of the ramp.

He scampered down and put his hand to Teddy’s forehead.

With a curse under his breath, he added, “Bell is a rather astute one, but her demeanor makes her unsuitable to the drink. I was quite reluctant to trust her to this assignment, but circumstances were beyond my control. I do apologize; it appears I underestimated how poorly you’d be this morning. The good times seemed to have gotten away from that one.”

His appraisal of Bell was spot on. At first, their outing was all business, her content to study the tills of both bars. However, that all changed at the second place.

There, she found what she was looking for: a discount.

After that, all professionalism went out the window and her and Teddy drank themselves into a stupor. If only he could fully recall the spotty events of the previous night…

One thing he was certain of, Teddy never took advantage of her intoxicated state. Despite the lapses in his memory, he knew that for certain. It seemed the missus just wanted an excuse to cut loose; inexplicably, reveling in their roles of corner whore and dirty old man.

Perhaps, Monteguem was neglectful in his treatment of his betrothed?

Teddy didn’t know his employer well enough to be sure. On the surface he was a person Teddy could respect; he was certain of that from the single day they’d spent together. He cared nothing for ‘face’ except when giving it to others and treated Teddy as an equal, as did Bell. He was the type of man to tip a bum a gold sickle bit when no one was looking, and that was worthy of Teddy’s respect.

That being said, they had not spent enough time together for Teddy to understand any underlying flaws of Monteguem’s character. Might be, he was absent-minded and inadvertently neglectful? Teddy could see it. He’d abandoned Teddy on the first day of his hire and left him with his betrothed—completely neglectful to both Teddy and Bell.

What kind of soon-to-be husband would leave his darling with a stinking bum? Monteguem, that was who.

Still, Monteguem was kind. He drew muddied water from the kitchen well, and served it to Teddy in a clay cup. Teddy slurped it down so fast, it nearly came back up, but he caught the vomit in his throat.

Doing his best to smile a thanks to his employer, Teddy staggered to his feet, hunched over even shorter than usual. The last thing he wanted to do right now was stretch his stomach. He might not have a taste for mid-shelf whiskey anymore, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t drink the piss out it.

Speaking of piss…

He ran over to the clay chamber pot nestled in a corner and drained himself. He even considered emptying it after all that.

Monteguem waited patiently in the den while Teddy readied himself. His employer didn’t seem likely to give him the day off, and Teddy reluctantly prepared for an especially grueling day of work. Though, he couldn’t stomach the bathtub gin this morning, so a simple twigging was all his teeth got.

He combed his hair down and straightened his scraggly beard as best he could, and, while still hunched over, met back up with Monteguem.

“What’s…what’s the plan for today, boss?” Teddy asked, once again swallowing his vomit.

“Ah. I believe we will return to the bar.”

And Teddy ran back to the chamber pot. No swallowing the vomit this time.

******************************

“Oh crap!” the barkeep joked. “Not you again!”

Teddy led Monteguem back into the bar, albeit, it was much less crowded this morning. Seemed all the ‘friends’ he made last night were in just as dire of straights, what with all they’d drank as well. Only a few patrons were here.

Hunched over and sweating like a pig, Teddy patted his stomach and forced a smile, “You got the cure, doc?”

The barkeep—I’m certain I know his name…as friendly as we got on last night, it would be awkward to ask again. Hopefully, someone else says it soon—the barkeep winked at Teddy’s joke and poured down a slug of whiskey.

“That bits yours anyways,” the barkeep explained. “You and your miss left the latter half of that decanter here last night.”

Then he leaned it a bit and smirked. “But that’s as much of a refund as your gonna get!”

“At least you got the cure to my ails, doc.” Teddy hesitated over the drink, and then slugged it down, swallowing hard to keep the vile liquid in his stomach.

He wasn’t entirely joking about the cure. As sickly as he felt, the only cure was to drink himself upright.

Monteguem stepped up to the counter next to Teddy.

“Mister Deckson, I will have the same,” Monteguem ordered.

At last, Teddy heard the barkeep’s name. Though he was a bit sore with Bell. Dammit. His missus truly does tell him everything. At least I kept my hands to myself last night.

Monteguem turned to Teddy and spoke loud enough for the barkeep to overhear. “This is much better than the last place, if only the pricing was more reasonable.”

Teddy slapped his employer on the back, another illusion. “Least the whiskey’s not watered down. Might as well be drinking cod’s piss back at the last bar.”

“Indeed! Another drink, Deckson.”

The barkeep brought over a heavily watered down decanter of whiskey, the same decanter they’d already purchased last night and drew another slug for Monteguem. Not for Teddy, though, Teddy put a hand over his tin and shook his head.

“Let the medicine do its business, first,” he explained.

The barkeep shrugged and went back to chatting with a patron at the other end of the bar.

Teddy wrestled to keep his bile down. Last he wanted was to vomit in front of his employer again. He was nearly successful, too, at least until a big slap smacked him on the back.

Acid shot through his throat and he coughed and gagged, barely keeping it from leaking out. He swallowed and turned. Next to him, an adventurer suckled a flask with a smile on his mouth and menace in his eyes. Conrad, their desperate landlord, had joined them.

“Ain’t this something else? You and the mister out on the town, and at my favorite place, too,” Conrad said.

Teddy doubted those words. It was too coincidental to run into that guy right after leaving the hut with Monteguem. It seemed they had a stalker, not an occurance out of Teddy’s expectations, though.

Conrad bypassed Teddy and bowed graciously to Monteguem.

“Might be you don’t remember me with your manservant handling the coin and all, but allow my introducing once more. I am Conrad, and you are renting my home,” he said.

Monteguem returned the bow. “Of course, I recall. You have received your coin, haven’t you?”

“Everyday. A fine manservant you have there. Ah, but that guy’s no fighter, let me tell you what. A fellow with your means ought to have a proper guard, might be there’s a strapping adventurer looking for employ right under your nose.”

Monteguem didn’t flinch. “Am I to understand you are referring to your own self?”

Conrad clapped his hands together once and rubbed them without shame. “I am likely the first of many. I mean, it’s not often a Distinguished Sir like yourself arrives in camp without escort.”

After that thin threat, he swiveled his head around the bar and projected his voice loud enough for all the other patrons to hear. “After all, not only were you once stitched in the finest threads despite your humble appearance this morning, you had an official accord with the mayor, himself. An accord that claimed my home. It’s not wise for you to travel with only a manservant…this is a dangerous town, despite our jovial nature.”

All eyes in the room were on Monteguem, most of them were hungry, but the barkeep and the man he was chatting with had a different stare. Those two were…curious?

Teddy recalled that odd turn of phrase he heard his last two clients say. They said it right as they were stranded in a strange town, completely exposed. Teddy understood what it meant now, and it fit the situation very well.

“Out of the frying pan, and into the fire,” he mumbled, except his low voice easily carried across the room; he’d just realized it was chillingly quiet in here.

The barkeep’s companion flashed his eyes and practically jumped across the bar to Teddy. He got down real close to Teddy’s face, practically glowing in anticipation.

“What did you just say?” the man asked.

“Out of the frying pan and into the fire,” Teddy repeated.

“That’s an unusual phrasing, not one I’ve heard around here. Who is it attributed to?”

Teddy answered the best he could, despite not having a clue what it meant, recalling that young boy’s words. “Tolkien wrote it.”

Again, the man’s eyes flashed and he smiled, really big. Backing up, he pulled Conrad away. “These two are under our protection, you understand what that means, don’t you Conrad?”

Conrad’s gaped and nodded.

“Good,” he said and looked to Teddy. “If I mentioned ‘earth’ how would you respond?”

Monteguem pinched Teddy’s leg, causing Teddy to jump in surprise.

“I—I—,” the man stammered before getting his words out. “You just wait right here! There’s so many more just like us! You couldn’t have come to a better place…let me, let me go get the mayor. He’ll settle this! You’re not the only one to get fucked over by Prometheus! Just wait, I’ll be right back with the mayor’s permission!”

The overly excited man ran out the door and Teddy looked to Monteguem for answers. “What was that about?”

Monteguem shrugged. “I believe we are about to find out.”

Confused, Teddy looked over at Conrad. Conrad just shook his head and threw up his hands.

Somehow, that man was excited about an ‘earth’ and Monteguem wanted to find out why. What did an ‘earth’ have to do with a crime syndicate in the desert?

Apparently, they were going to find out.