Two of Phinneous's men stepped in front of Liam and pushed the doors open. Before them was a large room, filled with wooden tables, flagons of ale, and a whole mess of drunken guardsmen.
Still carrying his helm under one arm, Liam stepped through the door, and a cry went up.
"Three cheers for Liam."
The room exploded in noise.
"Huzzah! Huzzah! Huzzah!"
The next moment, Liam was surrounded by other soldiers slapping him on the shoulders and back (and even a time or two on the rear). Someone grabbed his helm, but before he could reach for it someone else replaced it with a large stone flagon.
Claudius appeared at his side. "Drink up," he said, lifting a flagon himself. "All of this is for you."
"For me?" Someone pushed the bottom of Liam's flagon toward him. Faced with the choice of drinking the golden liquid or letting it slop wastefully to the floor, Liam chose to take a huge quaff.
It was both sweet and bitter at the same time. Liam recognized it immediately. "Honey mead," he said, taking a breath followed by another drink. He looked at Claudius, a big smile on his face. "My favorite."
Claudius lifted his flagon, clinking it against Liam's. "I knew I liked you, lad." He took a drink. "Yes sir, I knew I liked you."
The mead flowed all night. Songs were sung and stories were told. Soldiers climbed on the tables and did little dances. As the night drew on, the crowd of drunken soldiers got rowdier and rowdier, and from time to time, chunks of bread and even an empty flagon or two flew through the air.
All the while, the accounting of the fight with the undead and of Liam's bravery grew larger. Pretty soon there was an army of vampires, each standing as tall as the highest tower of Zerith Hold. And Liam cut them down two at a time.
Liam's head spun. He wobbled unsteadily, a smile plastered to his face. This wasn't such a bad thing. These men liked him. They threw parties in his honor.
He raised the flagon to his lips again. He smiled even wider.
They had an endless supply of honey mead. What more could a man ask for?
He spotted Knoblauch in the corner seated against the wall, a sling over his arm. Liam wandered over and sat down next to him.
"How you feeling?" he said as he plopped down.
Knoblauch laughed. "Not as good as you, I'm afraid."
Liam lifted his flagon. "I'll drink to that."
Knoblauch lifted his empty hand and nodded his head.
"What? Don't you like honey mead?" asked Liam.
The veteran shook his head. "I like it plenty," he said. "It's the torment I endure the morning after that I don't like so much."
"Ah," said Liam, pointing his finger at Knoblauch, "but no one said you had to have too much." He brought his thumb and forefinger almost together, leaving only a pebble's space between them. "Only a little." Liam squinted for emphasis.
"Thank you Liam. I've already had my fill," said the veteran.
"Already?"
Knoblauch shrugged. "I'm an old man now, Liam. That stuff hits me a little harder than it used to." He leaned forward and grabbed hold of an empty flagon on the table, turning it over and letting the last few drops of mead drip out. "When I was a young man like you, I could drink all day and all night and never feel the wrath of the mead." He righted the flagon and put it back down on the table. "But then I got old, and the stuff caught up with me." He shook his head then laughed. "It's just not worth the pain anymore."
Liam sighed. "Suit yourself." He took another swig.
Knoblauch pointed across the room. "Look who came to your party."
Liam followed the veteran's finger. Beside the door, looking on with a rather disapproving frown, stood Captain Phinneous.
"Bah," said Liam, "what does he want?"
Knoblauch leaned back against the wall. "I don't know. That one's a real manure bag-always steaming and never pleasant to be around."
Liam nearly blew mead out of his nose. "You should-" He coughed, spitting a little errant mead onto the table- "You should warn me when you're going to do that."
"That wouldn't be any fun, now would it?" Knoblauch placed his hands behind his head.
"Yes. Yes it would," said Liam, putting his flagon down and wiping splattered mead off his face.
The room went silent, and Knoblauch jumped to his feet. "Purdun's here."
Liam coughed once, trying to clear his throat. Then he got to his feet and stood beside the veteran just as the baron approached their table.
Knoblauch bowed. "My lord."
Liam watched the veteran out of the corner of his eye and scowled. He didn't know how he felt about the bowing thing. Not that long ago he hadn't felt the need to show Lord Purdun any respect or even acknowledge his authority.
Now though, something had changed. He kind of liked being part of the elite guard. That gave him something to lose, something that could be taken from him.
Liam bowed as well. "Lord Purdun."
"Please, gentlemen, no need for ceremony here," said the baron, lifting a full flagon of mead from the table and taking a large swig. "I've only come to tell you how relieved I am that you made it back safely."
"Thank you, sir," said Knoblauch. "It's really only because of Liam that I made it back today at all."
Purdun nodded, looking directly at Liam. "So I have heard. So I have heard."
Liam was a little uncomfortable. He'd saved the lives of many men before. It was an almost daily occurrence in the Awl. But he'd never received so much attention for it. He stood silently, not knowing what to say, trying to avoid eye contact with the baron.
"Well," said Purdun after a long awkward moment of silence, "I don't want to derail everyone's well-deserved fun." He turned to the room. "Please, everyone, carry on."
A few of the men started to drink their mead, but for the most part the room stayed quiet. Only Captain Phinneous, lurking near the door, seemed to be enjoying himself.
The baron turned back to Liam and Knoblauch. "Liam, may I have a word with you in private?" he asked in a hushed voice.
Liam looked to Knoblauch. The veteran soldier nodded his head and gave Liam a little shove.
"Uh, all right," said Liam.
"Excellent," replied Lord Purdun, then he headed across the room and out the double doors.
Liam put his mead down on the table and did his best to look sober as he followed the baron out of the room.
Once they were outside, Liam could hear the soldiers begin to laugh and talk again. Purdun walked on in silence, waiting until he was halfway down the hall before speaking again.
"You've done well, Liam," he said, slowing his pace.
"Thank you."
"Far better than I ever imagined."
Liam shrugged. "Guess you underestimated me," he said.
Purdun smiled. "Indeed. And that is precisely what I wanted to talk to you about." Purdun stopped only a few steps from the door to Liam's room.
Liam stood at attention, his hands behind his back.
"I think your talents aren't being fully used," continued the baron. "I want to offer you a promotion."
Liam's head swam. "A promotion? What… what exactly does that mean?"
Purdun put his hand on Liam's shoulder. "It means that with the undead incursions into Ahlarkham on the rise, the threat to my personal safety has increased as well. I'm going to be adding more men to my personal bodyguard, and I want you to be one of them."
Liam shook his head, trying to clear the fuzzy haze of mead covering the inside of his skull. This was happening so fast. It wasn't that long ago that he was fighting against this man, and now Liam was being offered a job as his personal bodyguard. Was this really happening?
"I… I don't know what to say," he said. It was one thing to take refuge in the elite guard, but protecting the life of the man he had worked so long to kill…
Liam shook his head. "I… don't think-"