2
“ARE YOU SURE this is a good idea?” Kayman Rocylen asked, eyeing his brother. “We just got here and we’re already robbing a man of noble blood. What if we get caught?”
The warrior had been making his living as a sell sword since leaving Forrenwake; he had also helped Kalen, his brother, in many schemes involving wealthy lords and ladies. This was different. For the first time in a handful of years, they were home. Kayman believed that a man should never perform any act that might upset the authorities in a place where your face was known. Though it had been some time since the two brothers set foot in the town, Forrenwake was small in size. Everyone would recognize them instantly.
“It’s nothing, you numbskull,” Kalen replied, a smirk set on his youthful face. “You always worry about getting into trouble, and there is simply no need for it. I have taken liberties to ensure that nothing will go wrong. He is only a minor lord, or so I have been told. He’s away on some kind of personal mission; he’s not coming home for days!”
“And you know this how?” Kayman’s massive arms were crossed over his hulking chest. His brother was an excellent thief; he knew this well. Still, it would not be the first time that something had gone terribly wrong, forcing the two to flee and take cover elsewhere. That would not be possible in the town in which they had been raised. “We have only been back for a few hours.”
“It only takes a few hours to find out if someone’s going to be away for a while. Do you doubt my ability, Kayman?”
“That depends.”
“On what?”
Kayman snorted. “It just depends. Never you mind. Forget I said anything!”
“That is a good idea, brother. Now please get in position. I need you on lookout.”
“I’m hungry. Can’t we just go eat?”
“How do you propose we do that without food or money?” Kalen asked. “You ate the last of our resources on the main road. We’re also broke. Completely. I plan to remedy that, but I need you to go hide around that corner and whistle if trouble comes. It’s no different than what we always do. Now please go. All right?”
“Fine,” Kayman replied. “But if you get us into trouble again, I just might be forced to roast you over a fire and eat you. I’m starving!”
“You would, wouldn’t you? That bottomless pit in your stomach is what gets us into these messes in the first place.”
Kayman’s eyes widened, but he remained quiet. Instead of protesting, he turned away from his brother and retreated to the dark alleyway adjacent to the lord’s manner. He was puzzled that there were no guards posted to keep out intruders, though Forrenwake experienced almost no crime. It was a rather lazy town compared to some of the larger cities the two brothers had visited during the course of their travels. As he leaned against the wall of an old building, enveloped by shadow, he could not help but to think about Svelgaard Keep. Their plans had gone horribly wrong there; the two had barely escaped with their heads intact. Kayman did have to admit that his brother’s silver tongue had managed to help—for once—but if not for the warrior’s quick reflexes, the likelihood of ending up with their heads threaded through a guillotine would have been much greater. Thankfully, the authorities here were more forgiving; theft was punishable with a little time in a jail cell for a minor occurrence. A greater violation would result in being cast out forever. Kayman had friends here—and many good memories—and he did not want to be banished from the place that had been his home for so long.
He sighed, feeling the cold stone of the wall against his back. He tried to be thankful that it wasn’t the cold stone wall of a jail cell.
* * *
