Two Men + Two Ales = Two Tales

'I shall tell you a story now, one that no one in Garld or outside knows of. It is a story I tell people before taking their lives.' Tripp grinned.

And that look of fear was still on Ansley's face. Ansley wondered if the man before him had lost his mind or if what he said was true.

'Whatever do you mean, Tripp? Have you called me here to play pranks?' Ansley queried.

'You must listen to me Ansley, for I shall not repeat a word of whatever I say.' Tripp continued to grin.

Ansley just sat there and stared at Tripp. He saw the lines on his face and a scar that ran horizontally across his chin.

'Before I tell you my story, you must tell me how you lost your left eye. You must also remove the patch over it.' Tripp's voice echoed in the room.

'My father plucked it out.' Ansley lied.

That was what he told anyone that asked. It was better to lie and make his late father appear bad than for people to judge his life choices.

'You do not expect that I believe that, do you?' Tripp laughed.

'I have told you the truth, whatever is your reason for not believing me?' Ansley looked around the empty room.

It was just too quiet for him. He wondered how a place like that could even exist. He also wondered why Tripp insisted on speaking there.

'Ansley, you must tell me the truth.' Tripp reached under the table and brought out a bottle of ale and two mugs.

'Surely you do not want to drink at this time.' Ansley said.

'Ansley, you must tell me the truth.' Tripp repeated.

What choice did Ansley have but to tell Tripp a tale he never told anyone? Ansley was a risk taker who desired many skills. After he was chased away from the east due to his father's many debts, he began trying different things before he found his ground in ranching and wrestling.

'It was a spear. I went fishing and stabbed myself by mistake.'

It was true. That day was a sunny afternoon in May. He wanted to explore his skills in fishing but had held the spear wrong. It took only one jab to destroy his left eye and from that moment, he stopped trying to fish.

'Do you not know how to handle a spear?' Tripp asked.

'Whatever do you want to know that for? Tripp, you must tell me why you have called me here.' Ansley felt more rage than fear at that point.

'I have given you three months to pay back the money I lent you and I see that you do not have the means to pay it back. I have called you here to kill you.' Tripp was not lying. The word about him killing those who owed him a fine was true.

He had called Ansley to the south to kill him. Tripp believed that people's lives were equal to money and if they could not pay him, then he could take their lives instead.

'Tripp, whatever are you talking about?' Ansley's heart began to race.

Was it time for him to die already? He had not surpassed Richard in wealth, nor had he laid with Gina for those were the things he bothered most about.

'Do not worry your head, Ansley. All you need do is drink with me and listen to my tale. Or shall you decline my offer of a drink?' Tripp poured the content in the bottle of ale into the two mugs.

'Whatever is this? I shall pay you your money, Tripp!' Ansley shouted and his voice echoed.

'Do not shout now. Just pick a mug and drink with me.' Tripp threw the empty bottle of ale on the floor.

While Tripp saw two mugs of ale, Ansley saw two mugs of poison. He was scared to drink with a man who had declared his intention to kill him.

'Ansley, you must hurry to pick a mug. My throat is chapped.'

That was when Ansley realized why Tripp had called him out to the south. If he was going to die, Tripp did not want him to call anyone for help.

Ansley picked the mug to his right, at least his killer was kind enough to let him have a mug of ale before meeting with death.

'I was six years old when I lost my father. He lived in the west with my…' Ansley disrupted him.

'You must not tell me of that story for I do not wish to die. Tripp, you must give me more time to provide your money. Believe me, I shall get it ready soonest!' Ansley was scared, he had faced death many times in the past but none of them felt as real as Tripp's words felt.

'I have begun my story and I must tell it all. You have met your end Ansley and you must accept it. You do not have a quarter of what you owe me, how then shall I spare your life that is worth more than a thousand pieces of gold?' Tripp stood up.

He remembered the very first person he had killed. It was a woman in the west. She knew of his secret and threatened to speak up, so he ended her life. From that moment, Tripp found it exhilarating to kill and so he did it without any remorse.

He had made great wealth for himself, so to him, it was justified that he ended lives. 'What better way to die than by the hands of a wealthy money lender?' He often thought to himself.

'You must listen to me, Tripp. I know not what your story is, and I have no ounce of interest in it. Please, spare my life!' Ansley stood up too.

'Whatever are you alive for if you shall continue to carry the weight of what you owe me? You must let me take that off you, you must let me kill you!' Tripp turned around sharply and stared into Ansley's right eye.

'Do not do this, please.' Ansley fell to his knees.

At that moment, he wished he took Bolton the drunk's advice. Bolton had warned him of Tripp's behaviour, but he only brushed it aside, saying Bolton liked listening to gossip.