Chapter 5

Chapter 5
A Cat Toys Before It Kills

The door to The Creaking Willow opened and shut quickly as another man eager for ale entered. The few serving maids rushed to attend to the unusually large amount of patrons at Millia Nevia’s inn, quickly bustling by the tables to pour more drink or send for more food. The croaks of the elderly cook could be heard as the flaps to the kitchen swung in and out. The lady Millia herself was standing by the door herself, making sure that everyone who came in was at least seated as soon as possible.

Such a busy night, She thought to herself, giving a practiced smile to an uncouth bumbler walking by, it’s a good thing there all complete brutes, or else they wouldn’t stand to sitting so tightly! Sliding her long brown hair from over her shoulders, she gave her well accustomed dominion a looking-over. Aside from the group gambling on the large side table, it seemed that there would be absolutely no trouble for her tonight.

“Excuse me, miss, there seems to be a trouble with my belt,” a very dirty and disheveled man said to her grabbing at her shoulder, “perhaps you had best look at it, yes?”

Then again, unhinging the fool’s hand from her person, the night is young. Grimacing, she handed the drunkard to one of her more pretty barmaids and stalked off. The continuous din of the large room made her smile again though. This would prove to be quite the moneymaking night for the Willow. She started to head for her office, a tiny but effective chamber for her working, when a small error in the volume of the room caught her attention. Frowning she turned around.

A figure dressed in all dark grays and blacks stepped into the room with a steady stride. A slight hood hid his eyes, but exposed the rest of his face. A bubbly young serving maid with short blonde hair stepped up to him and asked to seat him. Frowning heavily at the girl, he pushed her aside. She squeaked and fell into a piggish man’s lap, who was most delighted at the intrusion. Having removed the obstruction, the figure continued into the room, walking straight towards Millia. Brushing her hands on her skirts, she stared up at the stranger, who stopped in front of her.

Lowering his hood with black gloved hands, he stared down at her with hard blue eyes. Millia felt no kindness in those eyes, but she couldn’t insult her patron by turning away. Standing her ground under the constant gaze, she asked, “Would you like a seat, sir?”

He smiled. Slowly he pulled off a glove from his hand and gently holding her wrist, raised her hand and kissed it.

“I would greatly appreciate that.”

Snatching her taken limb from him, she nodded for him to follow. Her thoughts smoldered as she led him to the back. Why did I let him touch me? Great brute! But his smile was very handsome. Having arrived at the back table, she asked, “Should I get you an ale, sir? Perhaps—“

“Lady, do not call me sir. You may call me Randolph, if it pleases you. And ale will be wonderful, thank you.” Smiling again, he said, “Can I get you anything?”

“Can you get me—no, what? No, I’m fine, thank you.” She smiled weakly and turned to the kitchens. What in the world is the matter with me? Fool man! I haven’t swooned since I was a small girl. I have no intention of starting now! Huffing about she got a tray and instructed the blonde to go serve the man in the back. The girl made a face about it, but trotted off quickly. Returning to her office, she delved into a stack of paperwork and ledgers.

Outside, the already high moon began to lower and eventually all but one of the dependants left for their respective alleys or junkhouses. Millia came out of her cubicle yawning and stretching tired limbs. In her tired stupor, she walked right by the table in the back.

“And now?”

Jumping half a foot into the air, Millia spun around to see the dark-eyed gentleman still there in his seat.

“What in the king’s name are you doing there, you lout! If you needed a room you should have asked! Now get—“

“And now, girl?” He asked again, rising from his seat.

“And now, what? I don’t have time for this!”

Walking up close to her he leaned down to her face and said, “Can I get you something now?” He smiled and put his hands on her shoulders, pulling her closer. She stuttered something incoherently before his lips caught hers. Giving into him, she felt herself being carried up the stairs and into a room.

Downstairs in the inn cellar, a fattened rat quickly scurries to a lump of cheese in the corner, never seeing the looming cat’s jaws until its life was beyond saving.

A pair of giggling maids played a girl’s hand-game to see who would have to wake their mistress from her sleep. The blonde, frowning at her sudden loss, stuck her tongue out at her friend as she walked toward the rooms. Pushing the door open the girl stuck her head into the room, and then entered. The room, in perfect condition, appeared unused. Then she caught sight of a foot sticking out from behind the bed. Making a face at the oddity, she rushed to the other side and screamed. Millia Nevia’s blood stained the floor all around her body, a wound gaping on her left side. Her eyes were already dazed with the stare of death, and her mouth was contorted with pain. The serving girl ran from the room wailing. The cat, having made another fine catch, tossed the remnants of his finished meal onto a developed pile of other rats. He slinked away in search for more play.