Pub Crawl, by Paul L. Mathews
“I need new fighters.”
Ajax, startled, almost wet his bed as Celsus shook him awake. Crying out like a child, he grabbed at Celsus’ thick arms.
“What...?” he said, blinking. “What are you doing here?”
“I’m telling you I need new fighters,” said Celsus, stepping away from the bed and scratching his massive belly. “We’ve just lost Dordalus, Labrax and Petrus.”
Ajax frowned. What did he just say?
“What do you mean ‘lost’?” he mumbled, rubbing at his eyes.
“Lost. Dead.” An impatient tone crept into Celsus’ voice. “They were ambushed trying to sell insurance to Hegio…”
“Labrax is dead,” said Ajax. He frowned as he turned the implications over in his head. If Labrax was dead, didn’t that mean—?
“…Which means I’m in charge now,” said Celsus, celebrating with a loud belch and an even louder fart.
