A Strange Night At The Dirty Duck

The Dirty Duck was the easiest place in the city to find at night, all you had to do was follow the sounds of singing and merriment and within a short while, you would be at the large oak door.

The night was like any other, a bard sat within a group of rowdy shipwrights, guiding them through drunken renditions of every sea shanty known to the world. On other tables, men were playing cards or shove ha’penny, sliding each other small piles of gold coins after each turn.

The fire crackled happily in the hearth, the cat was curled up in front of it, enjoying the warmth. The large iron pot above the flames bubbled happily, the mutton stew inside it keeping warm.

The bartender stood behind the bar, smiling to himself. This was the life. Sure the Duck wasn’t the prettiest or biggest tavern and it certainly wasn’t the best smelling. But anyone could cross the threshold and be promised a hearty welcome and a jug of ale. It was a home away from home.

Suddenly the door swung open, the iron hinges creaking. All of the patrons turned to face the door, keen to see who was joining the festivities.

A woman stepped through the door and everyone gasped. She was clad in a wide red dress, her long flowing hair framing the most recognizable face in the kingdom. All of the men dived out of their chairs, kneeling and bowing their heads. The woman all fumbled to curtsey as the Princess stepped into the room.

The Princess didn’t seem to notice the commotion as she walked over to the bar.

“Your majesty, it is a pleasure to have you gracing our humble little home,” said the Bartender, breaking the silence. The Princess looked around, trying to work out where the voice was coming from. She rose up on her tiptoes and looked over the bar.

“You don’t have to kneel you know, I really don’t need it,” she said gently, her firm received pronunciation displaying the quality of her education.

“But your majesty,” started the bartender.

“I would much prefer you to stand,” interrupted the Princess, “I can’t see you if you are kneeling behind the bar.” She said before turning and looking over the still silent room. “You may return to you dalliances,” said the Princess.

Slowly everyone in the bar rose up from the floor, moving back into their seats. However, no one looked away from the Princess, everyone too curious about her reason for visiting this run-down tavern.

“Your magnificence,” said the bartender as he stood.

“No, no,” interrupted the Princess shaking her head. “Please don’t, there is no need for titles, I am one of you.”

“Of course my lady,” nodded the bartender, only to stop as the Princess shook her head once more.

“No no, what do you call your normal patrons?” She questioned, looking around the room, hoping that someone would answer her. The bartender spent a few seconds trying to work out the best way to phrase the answer.

“I call them by their names my lady,” he said gently, trying to make his tone as polite as possible.

“Then I am Delwyn,” replied the Princess. The bartender nodded, it wasn’t like he didn’t already know the name of the Princess. Everyone across the kingdom knew it.

“Well, then Delwyn, what brings you to our home on this evening?” Asked the bartender, still not feeling totally comfortable using the first name of a royal.

“I would like a job,” replied the Princess bluntly, causing some of the patrons to look at each other as if to confirm that everyone had heard the same thing.

“A job my, I mean Delwyn,” replied the bartender with confusion, blinking a few times as if to clear out any cobwebs in his head.

“That is correct, I wish to labor in your establishment,” nodded Delwyn.

“Princess,” started the bartender. “Why would you want to work at a place like this, you must have plenty to do in the castle.” He continued, trying his best to keep his tongue civil and respectful despite his confusion.

“The castle?” Huffed Delwyn, crossing her arms. “Have you been to the castle? It is nothing but dead ancestors glaring at you from gilded frames, cold stone floors, and endless tapestries!”

“But Delwyn, this place, it is well,” said the bartender, rubbing his hair, debating if offending every patron in the pub was really a good idea. Before he could finish Delwyn interrupted.

“Is full of life!” She shouted, a smile on her face. “Paintings may smile but they are not full of joy or excitement! Within these last few moments, I have seen more life than I have for the past year in those stone walls!”

“Well that is true, we are full of all sorts of life,” nodded the bartender.

“To be in the castle is to be stuck in the past, to be surrounded by ghosts. I don’t want ghosts, I want the living, breathing people to surround me!” Exclaimed the Princess.

The bartender shook his head gently, letting out a soft chuckle. “Well Delwyn, I feel I can’t talk you out of this, so I’ll take you on, I’m sure we can find something for you to do.”

The patrons cheered, raising their tankards into the air as Delywn smiled. “Wonderful news! Just tell me what needs to be done and I shall do it!”

“Well, how about we teach you how to fill a tankard, that’s a good place to start,” nodded the bartender as he pointed to the end of the bar. “Come on round,” he smiled.

Delwyn moved across to the gap and went to walk through, only to find that her dress was far too wide to fit between the edge of the bar and the wall. She tried a few times, only for her dress to impede her each time.

“If anyone has a knife, then I request they cut away this restraining dress,” shouted the Princess incredulously. Several men looked at one another before one of the shipwrights stood up and pulled a rusty knife from his belt.

He moved closer and gently slipped the knife between the outer layers of the dress and started to cut, the fabric ripping as he slid the blade along the seam. After a few moments, the outer layers fell away, leaving the Princess with a much thinner outfit.

Delwyn stepped through the gap and smiled. “Thank you, kind Sir! If you think that will have some value you are more than welcome to take it!” She continued, pointing to the pile of material on the floor.

“Thank you,” noded the shipwright, grabbing the material and moving back to his seat.

“Right,” smiled the bartender holding a tankard out in front of Delwyn. “So most of our patrons here will be asking you for ale, and that’s a simple job. Just got to find your cask and pull on the tap,” He explained slowly, pointing to the cask that sat under the bar.

“Of course,” started Delwyn before giggling bashfully. “You know I never asked your name.”

“Oh, well I didn’t presume you would want to know it, anyway, most of the people here just point at me,” he said as he slapped the bar, a ripple of laughter running through the tavern. “Adger is the name.”

“Well then Adger, I hope to make you proud!” Exclaimed Delwyn as she bent down in front of the keg and pulled on the tap. As she pulled the tap fell out of the keg with a loud pop, beer starting to pour out onto the floor. “Oh no! oh no!” Shouted Delwyn, plugging the hole with her thumb.

Adger laughed at the sight, only to suddenly stop when he remembered who this lady was. Thankfully after a moment, Delwyn joined in with the laughter.

“I fear this does not bode well for my work,” she said between her giggles.

“Not at all, the taps are always finickity little blighters,” chuckled Adger as he picked up the tap. “On three then, one two and three!”

Unfortunately, Adger’s timing was not as impeccable as Delwyn’s and thus she pulled her thumb out a few moments too early, causing both of them to get sprayed with ale. After a few seconds, Adger was able to jam the tap back into the keg, stopping the torrent of liquid.

“I appear to have got some of it,” smiled Delywn, holding up the partially filled tankard, a puddle of ale spreading out from her feet. “May I make a second attempt?”

“Of course you may,” nodded Adger. Delwyn ducked down, and gently pulled on the tap, letting the tankard slowly fill to the top. Once it was done Delywn jumped up and smashed the tankard down onto the bar.

“It is done!” She shouted, getting a cheer from the patrons.

“I’ll buy it,” smiled the shipwright, putting some gold down on the bar.

“Wonderful!” Exclaimed Delwyn, looking towards Adger to make sure she was doing it correctly. Adger nodded and Delwyn took the coins and slid the tankard towards the man.

“Bard,” shouted Delwyn towards the man with the lute. “Don’t hold back, play! play!”

“I don’t think I know anything suitable for someone of your status,” mumbled the bard.

“I want to hear what you want to play, play with your hart, I wish to hear all that you love!” Smiled Delwyn. The bard nodded and started to play an up-tempo shanty, people quickly started to sing and within a minute the rafters rang with music and merriment.

After many hours of drink and song, people started to stumble home to their beds, causing the tavern to fall silent once more. Delwyn cleaned a table with a rag, humming to herself as she did.

Suddenly a bowl was placed in front of her. The sound of the pewter hitting the wood shook Delwyn from her thoughts. “What is this,” said Delwyn looking into the bowl curiously.

“Mutton stew,” smiled Adger, “you worked all night so you get a meal.”

“Oh I really couldn’t,” replied Delwyn. “You’ve been so kind to me, I really couldn’t take your food”.

“You wanted to work like anyone else right?” Asked Adgar.

“I did, yes,” nodded Delwyn.

“Then you get a meal, that’s how it works. None one works here and goes home on an empty stomach,” explained Adgar. Watching as a joyous smile came over Delwyn’s face.

“Thank you for your kindness, you have done more than I could have ever hoped for,” she said as she gently sipped the broth. After a few sips, she looked up at Adgar, a nervous expression on her face. “Will I be able to come back tomorrow?” She asked softly.

“Of course, you have plenty more to learn and the drinkers seem to like you,” nodded Adgar. Delwyn jumped out of her chair and wrapped her arms around the large man.

“Oh thank you, thank you, I’ve never felt so alive before!” She grinned.

“Finish your stew and then head out, I’ll lock up and feed the cats, I’ll look forward to you tomorrow,” replied Adgar warmly, watching as the girl slurped up her stew.