Clement's Despair - Rule of Three (part 1)

Clement sank his face into his hands in despair. The inn was empty, except for him and the burly barkeep that doubled as the doorman. The Tenth Spoke inn was a reputable establishment that was always clean, had fair prices and enough enforcement to keep the undesirables out, usually. Clement’s family has had this inn for generations before him, but none had to put up with anything like this.

“It ain’t that bad boss,” said the barkeep in a desperate attempt to calm his employer, “’least they always pay you after.”

Clement let out a long moan and widened his fingers so his eyes could see the barkeep, “Just pour me a drink and leave the little pick-me-up for the clients!”

The barkeep grudgingly turned around and poured a drink. Clement swallowed the liquor and gestured for another one.

“Sure they pay me after they wreck my inn, but look around you! Do you see any paying clients? Every traveler that comes to Renaissance already knows or soon finds out about their annual meeting at my inn! Only the desperate or the stupid actually rents a room during this time!” he swallows another mouthful of spirits and grabs the bottle from the barkeep, “And do you know what time it is?”

The barkeep was about to answer but was interrupted, “It’s the bloody festival of the wagon! I should be making piles of gold from the people who flock to this backwater town for the festivities! Instead, I await the return of those two…” he tilts the bottle back and takes a few gulps, “…barbarians to do their business and as always come to some minuscule disagreement that results in a fight that leaves my establishment a wreck!”

Just then, some excitement could be heard from outside. Clement put down the bottle and headed to the door.

“Good morning Clement!” greeted one from the group that formed outside, “it seems as though one of your guests is arriving soon!”

“Great,” replied Clement sarcastically, “which one?”

“Scouts report seeing Stocke approaching from up north. He should be here by tomorrow evening.”

“Stocke is coming! Stocke is coming!” screamed a nearby child excitedly that just overheard the news. He ran off to tell his friends.

Clement went back inside the inn and slammed the door behind him. He heard the group laugh outside as he returned to his bottle, “I could make more money selling tickets to watch this fight than with trying to run this place!” He takes another swig from the bottle, “Sure, they pay for the damage, but I lose mountains of gold turning away clients during the repairs. I swear if I didn’t promise my father I’d run this place…” Clement disappeared into thought.

“Why don’t you just tell ‘em they can’t stay?” the barkeep ventured to ask.

“Yeah? And who’s going to throw them out? You?” barked Clement, “Why do I even bother talking to you? Hand me another bottle! I’m going to my room! Let me know when they’re here!”

Clement headed to his room and slammed the door shut.

514 words 
Prompt: There is fear of an impending misfortune