War Aeternus 2: Sacrifices Page 9

  “A beer for me? From the gods?” the man asked, suspiciously eyeing the barrel Lee held. “Are you sure it’s not poison? Did my wife send you?”

  “That’s alright,” Lee said. He set the barrel down and pulled out two mugs before filling one completely from the cask and then pouring half of its contents into the other. “I can tell you are doubtful, but don’t worry.” Lee downed the contents of the second mug and offered the first to the bartender. “See? No poison. You don’t have to worry about your wife trying to kill you--or, well, you don’t have to worry about me being the instrument of your demise at least.”

  The bartender glanced between him and the mug of beer skeptically. “From the gods, eh? You know, that’s pretty ballsy of you to say. Despite the current crowd’s appearance, we’re one of the best zymurgists in town.” He swirled the beer around in the mug, looking down at it appraisingly.

  “Well, I can’t fault you if you don’t want to even trust me enough to try it. I was just told by a god above that you were the one to see . . . that you were the one to give this gift of beer to.” Lee smiled as he sealed the barrel shut and then lifted it onto his shoulder once again. “Come on, beautiful,” he said while motioning to Amber. “We have two more bars to visit and reward for their service, and we can’t spend all of our time with a man who won’t even let me offer him a free beer.”

  “Hey, wait a minute,” the barkeep said hurriedly. “I’ll try your beer since you’re one of us, and I don't want to turn down your good intentions. Here, let me get you one too. It’s on the house,” he said. He poured a beautiful, deep-golden liquid into a wooden mug and passed it over to Lee. “We have to stick together these days.”

  “Indeed. We’re all brothers in the same struggle,” Lee replied, clinking the wooden mug he had been handed against the one he had given the barkeep before they both took large, healthy swigs.

  “Holy crud!” Lee exclaimed as he wiped his mouth. “You weren’t kidding! This beer is amazing. That crisp flavor . . . that smooth texture . . . the aftertaste . . . You’ve definitely outdone yourself.” While Lee’s reaction was definitely above and beyond, something that immediately caught the attention of everyone in the bar--as was his intention to do so--it was the barkeeper’s reaction that really kept their interest.

  “What . . . What in the world is this? Beer of the Gods indeed! Where did you get this? I need more. I want the barrel!” the barkeep insisted, greedily eyeing the container and licking his lips at the same time. “I want the whole thing.”

  The few patrons in the bar began to wander over as well. “Wait, can I try some?” one asked.

  “I kind of want to try it too,” another one added suggestively. It wasn’t spoken directly to Lee but to the man next to him and loudly enough for Lee to overhear.

  “Well, while I’d love to sell it to you all on an individual basis,” Lee said to the people around him. “What type of herald of good news and tidings would I be if I came to reward this fine man for his outstanding service by giving drink directly to his customers?”

  There was a collective grumble from everyone but the bartender at this remark.

  “I’m sorry . . . It just wouldn’t be fair to the proprietor of such a wonderful place,” Lee said. “And . . . I really shouldn’t let you have this entire barrel. I mean, I was only told to bring you a mug of it.”

  “I need that barrel,” the man insisted. “I’ll pay you full price right here, right now for it, even if it’s missing some since we’ve each had a cup.”

  “Half a cup,” Lee corrected. “But that’s not the point. I still need to bring one of these beers to another bar, or else I might anger the god, and his wrath is violent and deadly.”

  “Come on, man. Enough with the religious talk. We both know why you’re here, so cut the crap and tell me the price,” the bartender demanded.

  “I really am just--” Lee spoke slowly, leaving enough space between his words for the bartender to easily interrupt.

  “The price. Just tell me the price.” The man wasn’t going to hear any of Lee’s charade.

  “Well, let me pray on it a second,” Lee said, bowing his head.

  Then Lee laid it on thick. He made sure every word was over the top and exaggerated as he closed his eyes and practically shouted in his efforts to invoke some holy conversation with a not-so-godly figure that he knew could hear him even if he had whispered. “Augustus, if you could, in your infinite wisdom, find it within yourself to grant more beer to these good and honest patrons who do this holy work on a daily basis for the good of humanity, then I would be much obliged. I, as your humble messenger, would find this as a great gift and dedicate myself even further to your cause!”

  The people around the bar all just watched Lee with uncomfortable-looking expressions as he went above and beyond the pale with his theatrics. Lee didn’t have to. The whole process was painfully awkward for him--and probably more so than for the people watching--but he needed to try and earn faith at any venue he could, so he figured it was perfectly reasonable for him to add some divinity to an already-delicious beer.

  “A great gift? Even further to my cause?” Augustus’s voice snickered in Lee’s head. “And all I have to do is let you sell the beer you made yourself to a bunch of drunks in a bar? That seems easy enough.”

  Shut up. You know I’m not really talking to you, Lee snapped back.

  Lee could hear a monkey’s high-pitched, cackling laughter in the background. “But you said my name. Is there another ‘divine Augustus’ you’re familiar with besides me?”

  I’m just doing this to get you followers, so be quiet and don’t make me lose concentration.

  “Fine, fine. But next time, try to get me more attractive, beautiful followers. Unlike you, I actually have an interest in that sort of thing.” Augustus’s cackle faded off into the distance, letting Lee know that the conversation was finished.

  “So? You gonna keep playing games? Or sell me your stuff?” the bartender asked pointedly, and everyone else watched expectantly.

  “Well, here’s the thing. The man upstairs says you can”--Lee stretched out the word, elongating the vowel as much as possible--“buy this one, but there is a catch.”

  “A catch?” The bartender sighed. “Fine. What do you want?”

  “Well, Augustus says that he needs two things, and they are both non-negotiable. The first is that you must tell people that this is the great divine beer of Augustus when you sell it to them.” Lee paused just long enough so that the bartender could agree to his first condition.

  “That’s easy enough,” the bartender consented, his tone the forced-sort-of-friendly that Lee knew was fake. “Now, what’s the real catch? Come out with it so that we can be done with this charade.” If he were a betting man, Lee would have placed his bottom dollar on the fact this bartender was doing everything he could to be patient with him, but he didn’t care. He needed the act to come to fruition.

  “The second thing is that you have to buy more than this cask,” Lee said. “He says you can only purchase this in multiples of seven.”

  The bartender heaved a huge sigh of relief. “That’s fine. We usually sell four or five barrels a day of the regular brew once the rush hits, so buying more than one isn’t a problem. But I’m not paying until the product is delivered. I don’t care how holy you think you are. Payment on delivery.”

  “Great. Well, the price is eleven silver,” Lee stated plainly. He knew that liquid was sold by the standardized barrel in this world. Each yielded a small amount over one-hundred and fifty-five beers that would be, by the Imperial measurement system, about twenty ounces. In an outskirt town like Satterfield, most of the beers would only cost someone between three and five copper pieces at most. However, in the city, Lee knew that they would have to pay upwards of ten to twelve copper pieces a drink. This meant that even if he sold the barrel at eleven silver, the barkeep would still be making at least four and a half to seven and a half silver in profit per b
arrel, and Lee would, assuming he remembered the prices at the grocer correctly, still be making just over eight silver profit himself.

  “Eleven silver?!” the bartender gasped in shock, slightly outraged. “That’s highway robbery! No one pays more than seven silver a barrel!”

  “Ah, well, that’s alright. If the price is too much, don’t worry about it.” Lee smiled before turning around to signal Amber that they were about to leave. He could tell that the bartender was cursing to himself and screaming in his head.

  “Wait. Wait! Don’t be like that. I’ll give you ten silver,” the man countered. “How about that?” He had given up on significantly moving the price down and was now trying to gain just a little leeway.

  “I’m sorry,” Lee said, shaking his head disappointedly with a sigh as he turned to leave. “Augustus set the price, not me. I wish I could help you . . . I really do.”

  “Fine! Eleven silver is fine, but I need a lot of barrels for the night shift. How many can you get me in one go?”

  Lee leaned forward and said, “Brother, if I may call you that since we are both here to serve others, there is no number that Augustus cannot fulfill. In fact, I can tell right now that you still doubt that these are divine beers, beers sent by Augustus, the God of Alcohol and Crafts himself, which is why the number of beers that can be produced is a number you cannot fathom. The only reason Augustus requires any money at all for them is because he wants to help you out even further in the afterlife by using your money to help others and thereby increase the number of good deeds you have done in this life.”

  Lee hated asking for money for a religious cause since it made no sense in practice. It was as bad as the televangelists who claimed that donating a jet to some random pastor would help them get into heaven--as if an all-powerful deity would actually need money from a poor person that could barely afford to pay their own bills. But Lee wasn’t an all-powerful god, so he had to ask. He had to get the money, so even if it left him feeling sick to his stomach, it was the best solution he could think of.

  The man’s long face was so exasperated with Lee’s proselytizing that he looked ready to smack Lee, and he probably would have if he didn’t want the beer.

  “Okay, ye of little faith, how about I prove it to you?” Lee said. “Tell me the number of beers you need, and I’ll be back with proof.”

  “Picking up beers and bringing them here is proof that they’re divine?” one of the visibly-vexed and impatient customers asked.

  “I’m not going to pick up beer. I’m going to call for Augustus to make the beer here,” Lee said.

  “Fine, I want sixty barrels of beer then,” the barkeep insisted. “You think your Augustus can produce that much instantly?” he said, making it into a challenge.

  “He can, but it must be in a multiple of seven, remember?”

  “Okay, then sixty-three--or seventy! Let’s see him handle that many so quickly. I’ve never heard of this Augustus brewery, so they can’t be in town. I’m curious how you’ll manage this.” The barkeep was clearly exasperated with Lee’s antics after having put up with them for so long, and this was now quickly becoming an act of defiance more than an actual order.

  “Well, I’ll leave this one with you and these fine patrons and be back with more, so have the money ready! I’ll be back, and I’ll be conjuring up the beer right in front of you. I just need to go get some containers and pray for a bit.” Lee smiled to himself as he turned and left with Amber.

  As soon as they were outside and headed to the grocer, Amber tugged on his sleeve. “I thought you were the one who made it, right?” she asked in a hushed voice.

  “Trust me when I say that, if not for Augustus, I wouldn’t be here,” Lee explained, extending a hand and tussling her hair. “So, this will still be his work, and he’ll still be the one taking the credit.”

  “But . . . shouldn’t you still get some of the honor?” Amber questioned. “You’re literally producing perfect beer instantaneously. Why give away all the credit?”

  “Because it’s important for the faith,” Lee responded patiently. “Also, if they thought I was the sole party responsible, what’s to stop someone from trying to use or secure me in a way neither of us wants?”

  Amber sucked in a quick breath of air before scrunching her face up like she had just bitten into the sourest piece of candy on earth but couldn’t spit it out. “Yeah, I don’t want to think about that,” she said. “But you’re not lying to us about other things with Augustus, are you? Augustus is real, isn’t he?”

  “Of course he is. Like I said: I wouldn’t be here without him,” Lee answered, trying to whisper softly enough that no one could hear them. “Which is why I am not lying here.”

  Amber latched onto Lee’s arm. “Not lying, but I don’t think you consider it the truth either. It doesn't feel right. Please don’t use that kind of truth when telling me things--and especially about Augustus.”

  I don’t think I use any kind of truth to tell you anything in regards to Augustus! Lee felt a pang shoot through his heart. He genuinely cared about Amber, so lying to her was that much more difficult for him, but the consequences of not lying might be even greater. Still, there was no way that he could make her a promise that he wouldn’t lie to her in the future. In the end, he just rubbed her head without saying anything as they walked to the grocer.

  There was no way for him to carry all seventy barrels of water easily--even if he had been able to use his inventory to quickly stash the other ingredients--so he paid to have them delivered directly to the bar. The grocer thought it was strange, but since he was being paid, he loaded up a cart with some of the shop hands, left one to guard the store and unloaded all seventy barrels at once right at the bar’s doorstep.

  Heaven’s Hammer, Lee thought as he looked up at the sign while walking in. Kind of ironic, given my current task and what I’m pretending to sell.

  “What is all this? These are barrels of water! I ordered beer, not water! I’m not paying no eleven silver for a barrel of water!” the bartender shouted. He was practically huffing as he stomped around the several-dozen wooden, water-filled casks now sitting where two tables previously were.

  “Of course they aren’t the beer,” Lee laughed. “But they will be soon. I didn’t want to just dump seventy barrels of beer right into your establishment without a way to store them. I prayed to Augustus, and he said he’d bring beer . . . But he didn’t say he’d store it.” Lee caught a disgruntled look from Amber, and he knew that she wasn’t happy with his lies.

  “Oh, really? You’re telling me that all of these barrels of water are going to magically turn into barrels of beer?” the man asked skeptically as both he and the crowd gathered around Lee.

  “If I said that, that means it will be true,” Lee responded. He reached down to one of the barrels and stealthily hid his hands as he pulled the ingredients out of his inventory and funneled them into the water. “See?” Lee asked after he had finished converting the water into alcohol. “One barrel of beer, just as promised by Augustus.”

  The man’s brows were furrowed as he peered inside. Sure enough, instead of clear water, there was a rich, golden-colored beer. He reached behind him, grabbed a mug from the counter and then proceeded to taste it. “Woah, this is the real deal. This is it. This is the divine beer! But . . . But how?”

  You have learned the proficiency skill Sleight of Hand. This skill is currently at Initiate Level 1. This skill improves one’s ability to hold, manipulate and use small objects deftly without onlookers noticing.

  You have been awarded 2 Intelligence for discovering a new skill without the assistance of class trainers or a manual. Current Intelligence: 130.

  “So, along with the first, that’s 22 silver you owe me now,” Lee said with a smile. “And do I have your faith?”

  “Hold on on a minute. How did you do that?” the bartender questioned.

  “He could have just told the grocer to tell us they were barrels of water,�
� one of the patrons observed. “How do we know that they weren’t all beer already?”

  “Yeah, this could still be a trick,” another agreed.

  “Okay, you think it’s a trick?” Lee challenged, pushing a barrel toward the man. “How about you open it then?”

  The dubious man did just that, opening the container to reveal nothing but clear water. “Now, watch carefully,” Lee said. “Watch the water very carefully.” He emphasized the words, making sure their attention would be on the water and not his hands that would be cycling the ingredients from his inventory, and then subsequently into the water, to make the beer. It had been hard to hide the ingredients the first time without everyone watching his every movement, so he was hoping this simple set of words would keep them distracted. However, while everyone else was staring at the soon-to-be beer, Amber was watching his hands.

  Your mastery of Sleight of Hand has progressed from the rank of Initiate Level 1 to the rank of Initiate Level 2. Sleight of Hand now allows for better unseen manipulation of small objects.

  Due to improving Sleight of Hand, you have received +1 Intelligence. Current Intelligence: 131.

  Dangit, woman. You already know the trick! Stop being so obvious with your eyes! Lee wanted to snap at her, but he just smiled at her instead. It was half-hearted and apologetic because he knew that he had helped crush her spirit by revealing this small part of his greater lie. I should never have brought her for these transactions. That was my mistake.

  “Holy . . . Is this real?” the man gasped in shock as he watched the water transform.

  “Taste it,” he quickly ordered the bartender.

  “Don’t tell me what to do,” the bartender spat back, but he still dipped his mug in and sampled the beer. “It’s the same. It’s the same, and it’s just as delicious. What the heck? How? How is this possible?” They had gone from squinty-eyed skeptics to wide-eyed and bewildered so quickly. It would have been pleasurable to watch if it weren’t for the fact that, as their eyes grew wider in disbelief and shock, Amber’s continued to narrow little by little with each of his actions.