A story by R.C.PeterGabriel, all rights reserved.
People, as a general rule, don't seek out change. It has to happen to them. And as a general rule, people find those changes to be uncomfortable. Ogmios may have been a god but he suffered from that same affliction. When you've lived for over twenty-five hundred years, any changes become more than uncomfortable, they become difficult. He couldn't accept the technology that had so rapidly altered the things he'd known as constants his entire life. I hoped that being born into a world where change was the only constant would help insulate me from the problem. As it was, our evening's outing promised to bring about some notable changes.
The "Shining Shackle" had started as a large tenth-century monastery complex, before being converted into a poorhouse a few hundred years later. The buildings were convenient and the inhabitants seemed strangely eager to turn them over. Our patriarch had taken pity on those seeking shelter from the elements while they sought to worship him. Apparently, Ogmios had gone by many names over the centuries, Reed being the most obvious. I came to realize who my father really was while pondering some of the knowledge I'd acquired.
Anyway, in the late 1800s, the poorhouse was refurbished and converted into an inn and alehouse. It now stands as the oldest structure in the village. Up until today, I had ignored it, having considered it similar to the House of Commons. We already owned the land the entire village sat on, we didn't need to insert ourselves into their gatherings. At least that is what Mam, had always said. She, however, hadn't had plans to be worshiped by the entire world. That being the case, I was most definitely going to insert myself into their gatherings, their lives, and even their very thoughts.
Of course, as soon as you start making plans, something becomes inconvenient. Granted, it was only a slight inconvenience but I noted it immediately as we approached. Originally the walled-in group of buildings had a stable and all that went with it. The current proprietor or maybe the one or two coming before had converted the courtyard into patio seating and a dance floor, thus blocking the route to the most logical place to park cars. Then again, the Shining Shackle served very few people from outside the village and didn't really need parking. We parked at the church and walked the fifty yards to the portcullis.
There was the expected hanging pub sign next to the gated archway. It depicted a dungeon wall with shackles hanging from it. The shackles had light rays radiating from them to give the impression that they were shining.
As we approached I noticed for the first time that the chains holding up the sign didn't stop at the signpost. They continued to the stonework and then seemed to run all the way around the complex's outer wall. Turning my thoughts inward I checked whether or not Ogmios had known why, and wasn't surprised to find that he had. Because he had known, I did as well.
The chain had been used to form a circle of protection that had finally broken when the links were severed to affix the sign. The practitioner that provided the circle had also engraved the masonry. Eight different styles of Celtic knots had painstakingly been chiseled into every stone along the top of the walls. Being twenty feet above the ground made the blessings too small to be readily identifiable. But, that didn't keep me from feeling their presence as I walked under them. This was probably the only place in town where the townies wouldn't feel the world's energies pressing in on my territory. Or my family's energies pressing back. Those realizations gave me a better perspective of why everyone seemed leery, or at least uncomfortable around us.
I wasn't really surprised at the townies' reaction to our arrival. Especially with Agnus hanging off my arm and her head on my shoulder. I'm fairly sure she would have been skipping if I hadn't been holding on to her. Almost every head in the courtyard turned our way as we made our way inside. The same thing happened as we entered the huge taproom that used to serve as a dining hall for the facility. That is until I raised my voice to the room. "We're not here to spoil your fun! But, now that we're here you're happy knowing that you are about to have twice the normal amount!"
Calls of "To Lord and Lady Reed," and "Slainte Mhath," went up around the room. We glanced around and found a snug to occupy, quieting the toasts and greetings. A few moments later a rather homely waitress appeared and asked for our order. Because I was admiring her bonny figure, it had taken me almost a minute to realize what a hacket she was.
I chuckled inwardly as I remembered some of the lads I had met in the states referring to a girl like her as a 'two bagger'. You would love fucking her but only if she wore two bags on her head, just in case one fell off.
I ordered three pints of their finest and explained that I was expecting two guests but only one that was arriving soon. No sooner had I finished explaining, when Olivia squeezed past her and slid tightly against my unoccupied side.
The waitress gave Olivia a somewhat pinched look before regaining her smile. She stood there a few moments glancing back and forth between the three of us, seemingly not sure of how to react. It was as if she'd never seen three friends out together before. Or it could have been that she longed for that kind of companionship. When I smiled up at her and winked she spun on her heels and hurried off to retrieve our drinks.
The two girls grinned at each other while leaning around me just before the verbal floodgates opened. They started chatting as if I wasn't even there. Although, they were both pressed tightly against me and had a hand each on my thighs and one on my upper arms. To anyone looking it would have been obvious that they were staking their claim on me. Fortunately, the ale arrived in short order and we all took a drink.
The dark ale was incredible. Each subtle note seemed to arrive independently on my tongue as I held the first pull in my mouth. Caramel, chocolate, cherry, and cream all smoothly blended with the more obvious hops flavor. But what impressed me the most was that there was no alcohol or after-taste. That didn't mean I couldn't tell the alcohol existed. Only moments after swallowing, a warmth flowed out from my stomach similar to my best 100-proof scotch whiskey. A few pints of this would find some patrons under the tables.
I excused myself from my pouting companions and made my way to the bar seeking the proprietor. The rather sugg man of around fifty years and an accent that was so strong, even I strained to understand, smiled at my approach. "Laird Reed. We ur a' surprised tae see ye, bit nae disappointed. Dinnae ye lik' th' ale? Ah kin git ye something else."
"Actually, it was braw. I was wondering what it was called and where you got it. I don't usually drink ale but in this case, I may want to make a habit of it."
"I calls it 'Sorcha Mirk'. Tis mah ain brew 'n' mah pride 'n' joy. Blend o' barley 'n' rice, wi' a secret mix o' flavors. Pure tough though isnae it? Sixty-one proof that yin is!"
"Shining Dark is a fitting name. But I didn't know you have a brewery," I stated, as realized my new favorite beer had more than five times the alcohol of normal ales.
"Ye shuid ken, Laird Reed. Yer mam paid fur a' th' equipment 'n' she be taken her cut. Mah jalouse is that it goes tae ye 'n' yer sister noo. We ur making ten ales, three voddies, 'n' five whiskies. It's a' set up in th' auld stables."
"Ah, that's why there isn't any parking. Anyway, I'd seen the profit statement but didn't realize where most of the profits had come from. So here it is, I'm in a rather good mood and want to take up everyone's bill for the whole night. I have an announcement in a little while and want everyone to stay to hear it. Can you let them know my intentions?"
"Aye, Laird Reed. A'm sure thay wull wantae hear fae ye." He winked at me and moved over to ring a ship's bell. Once he had everyone's attention, he relayed my news. The cheers instantly rang out and I was thanked a hundred times over as I made my way back to the snug.
Just before sitting, I turned back to the room and shouted above the happy din. "Everyone that knows of any adult from the village that isn't here right now, I need you to run out and fetch them. That way they can hear my news also. If they are caring for small children leave them be, but have them come by the manor as soon as they can. That includes the vicar and his wife. It's important for them to hear this too."
