The Butcher of Gadobhra

Chapter 325: A good cup of coffee before going to work.

The biggest building in Hungry Town was the home of Mama Laveau. It was older than the rest of the shanty town, with a foundation and first two stories of worked stone. Ozzy could just see the original outline if he used his imagination. Expansion after expansion had turned it into something else until the original building was mostly lost inside a shell of added upper stories, wooden balconies, wings to either side, and a wide covered porch on the front. The additions were mostly of wood, much repaired and modified. The whole structure was faded to a dirty grey, and areas, where recent repairs had been done stood out. There were not many of those. Windows were of oiled paper, not glass, with heavy wooden shutters to keep out storms and the cold.

The house needed to be big. Ozzy had seen at least four dozen children running in and out of it, along with a dozen adults. Their clothing was patched and threadbare, but he noted they were clean, if barefoot. The children were in better shape than the adults, and when food was put on the table, they ate first. The adults shared what was left, still a sizeable meal. From the great house had come huge bowls of brown rice and beans and cornbread cooked in blackened iron skillets. When an adult with hunger in their eyes looked to the old woman, she nodded to them and whispered, "Eat up, chile, no hungry time tonight." No one asked again, and the food slowly disappeared.

Rolly surprised his friends by turning down dinner. He and Squirmie organized games with the children, kicking around a ball of rags in a game with few rules. At one point, he noticed a little girl of ten who wasn't playing. One of her legs was twisted and weak, and she walked with a crutch made from a tree branch. Rolly picked her up and continued the game with her on his shoulders, directing him as if he were her horse. She differed from the other children in more than just a withered leg. Where they were tan, she was pale with long black hair. The old woman saw him looking at the girl.

"Another castaway child, sent to Hungry Town for me to raise. I gather them all in: the children too thin to dance, the failed experiments from the colleges, servants hiding from masters who have beaten them one time too many, and the minions who flee from the Butcher. Those and many more. Eventually, they all make it to my door, and I do the best I can. When they grow up, they leave to find a spot in the wide world, but mostly as thieves, bandits, and highwaymen. The old Barons took the best of those for their spies and assassins. It's hard for me to tell them not to go. A job is a job, and I have more mouths to feed than I can grow food for. That is the way of it in Hungrytown: The rich take the pretty girls for servants, the Butchers steals away the strong for his dungeon, and the Baron takes what he needs. The only thing they give back is more mouths to feed."

Suzette looked at the girl, "There isn't a cure for her leg? Magic? Potions?"

The old woman shook her head. "That isn't a normal sickness. That's the Withering. It strikes the people on the hill in their fancy palace that dance under the stars. Too inbred for too many centuries. The Withering is taking more and more of their babies, leaving the ones who live crippled like poor little Vicennia. It would take strong and wonderful magic beyond anything I have to make her dance. They don't want her if she can't dance. Threw her out, and she's my child to raise now."

Ozzy sat back in his chair, sipping his coffee and listening to her story. "And that's why Billy is doing the dishes."

The old woman laughed, cackling and slapping her knee. "Such a sight! I never in a thousand years would have thought a Baron or Baroness would stoop so low as to sit at my table, let alone do the dishes. He must be in a difficult spot if he can swallow his pride and bend his knee. What does he need my help for? I worry about the cost of a clean kitchen. Besides the dishes he keeps dropping!"

The twang of a banjo brought the dinner to an end as several people brought out musical instruments. The tables were moved aside for dancing on the hard-packed ground of the courtyard. Ben was delighted and went to talk with the people playing harmonica, banjo, and washtub bass. Before long, someone had put a banjo in his hands, and he was happily struggling to learn the unfamiliar instrument. He had played around with lutes and a mandolin, but not this type of stringed instrument.

Suzette was sitting on the porch steps, a small child asleep in her lap, her coffee forgotten beside her. She kept her voice low to not wake the little girl. "He has dreams, big dreams. He wants to rebuild the city and buy the world, piece by piece. Think of him as a merchant, not a noble. He'll deal for what he needs and give you what you want if he gets what he wants."

"And what does the Baron want this time?" She seemed skeptical.

Ozzy looked around, thinking. "He knows there is a dungeon down below, and he'll want control of it. And he wants the ghouls dead. He'd wipe them out if he could, they scared him, and he won't forgive that."

The old woman looked over the endless graveyard. "Scared him and hurt his pride. There's a fire lit inside of him now. I won't get in his way if he wants to kill the ghouls and destroy their haunts. No ghouls would be a treat. There was a time when none of them dared to come above the ground. They lurked in the crypts, guarding their treasures from grave robbers and tomb raiders. But the long years gave them a chance to claim most of Hungrytown, and my power is taken up with keeping them out of this little corner and feeding my people."

Ozzy looked down at his coffee. "I'd kill ten ghouls for a cup of coffee like this." Suzette could almost hear the gears in his head grinding out an idea. "Now that you mention it, so would I.."

Mama Laveau called to the kitchen for another pot. "No need. I have some favors I owe you in return for the ghouls you've already dealt with; salves to keep their bites and scratches from getting infected and a potion that makes you immune to lycanthropy. We don't need you howling at the moon three nights a month if you run into a dread wolf, and I'm sure you will."

Suzy rubbed the top of Ozzy's bald head. "I appreciate that. I've gotten used to being bald. Watching him growing hair in all the wrong places isn't appealing to me."

"But I think there might be many people that would like a nice cup of coffee now and then. There will be more and more people coming into the city. People are used to paying for a good cup of coffee. " Ozzy accepted another cup of hot coffee from the freshly brewed pot.

"And have people knocking on my door and tramping mud into my kitchen all hours of the night? No, thank you. I have enough work to keep me busy without running a brewhouse."

Suzette pointed to an empty area next to the border of Hungry Town. Across the fence sat an ominously large crypt. "We just need to give them a place to sit and enjoy a cup that doesn't disturb you. Is that the entrance to the crypts? What if we built you a coffee house in that empty area? Your people could run it and supply food and coffee to the adventurers coming here for the dungeons. Then use the money to buy food from the Hamlets."

"That takes money and time, chile; how could I learn to do that with all I do now? You can't just put people in a building with a pot of coffee and expect people to pay for it."

Ozzy chuckled, "Actually, you can. The more you charge, the better it will taste to them." He took a sip from his own cup. "It's not just about a place to get a cup of coffee. It's about presenting Billy with a deal that he likes. He wants that dungeon open so he can charge fees and attract, uh...thieves and raiders. They will gain gold and enchanted items, some of which he'll buy from them cheaply and resell to others for a profit. They'll eat and drink at his pubs, stay in his inns, and buy supplies, weapons, and armor that his people make." He smiled, "But Billy is also what we call a 'Big Picture Kind of Guy,' and Layla follows in his footsteps. He doesn't worry about the small details if a deal has the big things he wants. He wants control, but he doesn't want to have to deal with a dungeon personally."

"He's going to want things, sooner or later. But right now is the time to cut a deal with him. He needs to get down into those crypts."

"So, he's heard of what the ghouls do down in the darkness, and he wants to claim it for himself. I hear them carving stone and mumbling in the old runic language of the Duergar." The old woman scowled. "I won't hold with blood sacrifice! You all sit still while I go turn him and his strumpet into small piles of ash. And then we can have pie." She stood up and no longer looked like a feeble old woman.

Suzette looked at her, entranced by her power, and Ozzy scrambled to regain control of the conversation. "He wants the broken rocks from the old teleport stone. The ghouls stole them."

"You swear to me, Oswald of the Titavoc and Suzette of the Fae, swear to me truly, that you will not let the Blood Altar fall into the hands of the Baron and Baroness. You will break its stone and bring me the cursed heart! Or render it such that he cannot use it for Blood Sacrifice!"

Ozzy quickly said, "Yes!" followed by Suzette. The old woman again looked like an old woman, and no one else seemed to have noticed anything. "Such good children. You sit here, and I'll bring us a pie to share. I've got a nice rhubarb pie just coming out of the oven." The two workers smiled and nodded their heads.

It was a really good pie. The rhubarb was fresh and tart, with strawberries layered on top and a flaky crust. Mama Laveau split it three ways and served them. "Now, about this plan you want to sell me on?"

Ozzy finished the last bite of pie and found the threads of his idea. "How about this? There are four of us here who plan to be around for a long time. What if we built the coffee house and got things started? You supply the coffee and keep 75% of the profits. We get 25% to cover our investment and work to get things started. Then we can help train some of your people to work there. You could sell pie and other baked goods along with the coffee. And it would give you a place to sell potions and tonics. Trade favors for some, sell extra to those that need it."

The old woman stood up and started pacing back and forth; her walking stick thumping on the dry wood of the porch. Finally, she stopped and shook her head. "Won't work. I won't do business with the Baron. He'll start with a slice of the pie and then eat the rest when I'm not looking."

Suzette got close to her, not wanting her voice to carry to the kitchen. "Then don't deal with the Baron. Deal with just us. We'll promise never to sell our share to anyone but you. I can claim the dungeon and manage it. We keep the items that the dungeon gives us and they go to the coffeehouse. Billy can collect a fee if he chooses."

"And is that going to be enough for him?"

Ozzy stood up and stretched. "If we approach him in the right way, yeah. He wants access to the Crypts, dead ghouls, and an income stream. This gets him that, and as a bonus, he has an attraction for bringing adventurers to the city. And I think we can squeeze him for a little more."

The old woman thought momentarily, then smiled and patted his shoulder. "Aren't you a crafty little boy, I'm halfway to saying yes. You go convince those two kitchen drudges, and we'll see if the the two halves line up. I haven't heard a dish break for a minute or two, so hopefully those two are almost done. Slowest kitchen help I've ever had."