The Boy and the Animal

Part I | Three

It was the afternoon when I had entered the tower, so when I left, there was just enough daylight to set out and begin my search for the boy. There was no real time limit for the bounty, but I knew if I didn't start right away then I would have been too far behind his trail to find him again.

So, waving again to each of the villagers that knew my name like they knew the streets of the city, I made my way back through the streets. The first stop, of course, was Dark's inn.

When I reached the inn, I was met by the sight of the town guard dragging the five bounties that I had taken care of out of the inn doors and straight into the caged carriage. My brother was waiting with that exhausted look of his, arms crossed as he watched the guards work. I would have felt bad for him. But he deserved no remorse from me.

I made a nonchalant stroll around the guards and stood beside my brother to join him in watching them. He didn't notice my presence at first, but, when he did, he suddenly snapped his head to look at me and stumbled back. It didn't take much to spook him. He clenched his teeth.

"You!" Dark growled. "What the hell is wrong with you? Stop luring your bounties to my inn! It's bad for business!" I smirked and leaned against the stone wall.

"What do you mean? If anything, it boosts your business. People love to watch a good Royal Knight take down," I reminded him. He shook his head.

"You're more of a common brutish mercenary now, Cyrus," he grumbled.

Whether he intended for me to follow or not, I strolled behind him on his way inside the inn, passed a group of common rabble at the door watching the scene outside. We headed passed the fire pit and table full of steaks and tankards, and, when we came to his personal room upstairs with a balcony overlooking the bar area, he tore open his wardrobe.

"You're not even a knight anymore,"Dark grumbled, digging through the back of the wardrobe. The sound of metal and leather shuffling muttered through the room. My brow twitched as I took a seat on his perfectly made bed, wrinkling the sheets.

"Maybe, but while I use the name of knight, you use the name of LaBane," I replied, knowingly stabbing a nerve. "I suppose we're both frauds."

Dark whipped around to glare at me. A hot spark flashed between us like a steel hammer slamming against a scorching, freshly forged blade. Then, after giving a sigh, he shook his head and withdrew a set of steel armor.

My brother stepped through the silence toward me and held the armor out for me to take. When my fingers grasped the cold steel, however, he did not let go. I looked up to catch his eyes, but they shied away.

"Is it serious again?" He asked lowly. Without even thinking about it, I unconsciously held my hand over my chest. A dull ache welled through it. "You don't have to do it, you know."

"It's 20,000 gold, Dark," I replied. He finally looked into my eyes.

"It won't do you any good if you're dead," he grumbled.

Clenching my teeth, I snatched the armor from him and stood from his bed. I stood over him, looking down at him. My brother was a LaBane; he was broad-shouldered and built like a beast, but he was the house type- a scholar. I, on the other hand, was more athletic. I was taller than him. Broader than him. And I made it clear.

"Someone's gotta take care of Mom and Sara. You sure as hell aren't going to do it."

With that, I stormed out of the inn and made my way back through the streets of the city. This time, in the heat that settled in my chest and stomach, I did not return the greetings of the swooning women, angry fathers, or rambunctious merchants. They were just the wind beneath the focus at the forefront of my mind: collecting that 20,000 gold.

The city gates passed, then my home where my mother met me to hand me my lunch of whatever food she could salvage from the mess, and then the fields that surrounded the province.

I didn't tell my mother where I was going or how much the job paid, but I did tell her not to wait up on me that night. Or the next. She gave me that same look she always gave me when I went out on a job. It was that fearful look that I would always remember from the days that I watched my father leave the house.

However long it takes— just don't die.

Along the path through the fields, I gazed around each side of me to scope out the area, piecing together where the boy could possibly be. He was wild, so he would probably stray from populated areas. No, my search would have to be in the wilderness.

The more I thought about the boy, though, as the sweltering sun sighed into a cool full moon that lit the fields in a white light, the fireflies like landstars, the more my heart sunk. Maybe the boy was dangerous, but he was still a boy. How did he get that way? Why was he alone? I didn't want to turn him in, but I had to care for my family.

It wasn't as if I would be the one to do the prince's dirty work, this time, I reasoned with myself.

As I marched through the path within the tall grass, I vacillated between determining where he might be and how I would apprehend him and straining my heart for the poor young man who just needed a little love.

Then, after some time, perhaps a few hours of traveling, a shrill scream rang out into the night. I flinched and whipped my head toward the source of the sound. Immediately, I took off running toward the nearest farm house, darting passed the cabbages and carrots to the front door. It was open ajar. I kicked it open.