Den of Thieves

Chapter #1

A Rogue's Tales: Den of Thieves

By R.A. Lancaster 2006-08/19

A distant southern tropical storm is providing the northern continent of Vesa extended warm autumn weather. After watching the blue morning sky for any signs of clouds Carr sighs deeply. Another nice day... stuck on the farm. Only the corn-field left to take down. It still needs at least another week or so to grow.

Inhaling draws in the scent of fresh stew, causing him to turn towards the aging farmhouse. I wonder if I could slip away and make it back without Ma knowing? Nah, even if I said I was just going to see Hal and Effim for the week she'd be suspicious. And if I don't get myself killed, Ma will be mad enough to kill me. End up going could be just a set up, get me alone and out numbered. Kapigorn? Darvel and Piate? Xyscukka? Shit could be that other mountain clan too. With thoughts of those crossed more than swords with he walks to the house.

Opening the old wood door to the farmhouse Carr enters quietly.

Tending to a boiling pot Mother greets him, "how are the animals this morning?"

"Fine." Smiling slightly at her, Carr paces about the small farmhouse. Several days have passed since finding a request for help. The parchment hides folded inside his shirt. To meet the mystery person he'll need to leave within a couple days. Curiosity and idle hands want him to go. Promises made tell him to stay.

Sitting at the table with a soft sigh Carr props his head on hands gazing beyond Mother.

Hearing the sigh she studies him, "what's up with you? You've been unusually quiet since returning from the city. Is there something I need to know?"

Though looking right at her, she's not seen to him, "Not really," in hopes of reassurance he musters a smile.

"Yah, sure," she steps away from the pot. Gently cupping the bottom of his jaw and lifting the head to peer into the soul. "You've got another little job. And you don't want to tell me about it."

Carr nervously swallows.

Her head shakes side to side in noticeable disapproval, "it better not be a request from that King Halford. He'll get you killed."

Taking a deep breath Carr answers, "no, it's not Halford." Unsure of what to say just pulls out the folded parchment to hand her, "The day after I got back, I found this. Rolled up with a map tucked into a bush where I hide the skiff."

She automatically queries while unfolding it, "who left it?" Sitting she reads the parchment.

"I don't know?" Getting up Carr grabs the ladle and a couple bowls, "I was wondering that myself." He pours up two bowls of hot stew, "I must've read it a dozen times."

Setting the bowls on the table he picks up a clay pitcher to pour up two cups of water, before sitting to eat.

"It looks like female handwriting," she notes before rereading it, looking for any hidden messages or clues.

"It's not Violetta." The first spoonful hot he quickly chases it with water.

"Violetta?" She looks over at him.

"You and her are the only two females I know that can write." Carr blows across the next spoonful.

Setting the note down she inquires. "Where's the map?"

"Ah. It's out in the barn." Carr points towards the mystery destination, "It's a couple days ride northeast of Ingleside." Pulling back the arm he retrieves the note.

She states with concern, "that's dangerous territory. Are you sure the note was meant for you?"

He lightly laughs, "why Ma? Do you think it was meant for you?"