The Soldier and the Thief

Chapter 23

Flavus trotted behind Took, struggling to keep up with the bearded man's long strides even with his long gangly legs. They were four days out from Racour. Took wasn't happy when he'd discovered that his friend had been murdered. Flavus had only heard the name Lamar mentioned multiple times, and assumed that was who had been killed. Whenever he asked the older man about it Took changed the subject or told him in rude words to leave it be. The only good thing was that Flavus got to cook all of their meals, and he experimented widely with the spices and weeds and plants he scavenged from near their campsite each night. Took ate everything and always begrudgingly admitted that it didn't taste too bad for plain food. 

All Flavus had ever wanted to do was cook, but he had lacked the resources to make his dream come true. Having lost his mother to a lake monster when he was young meant that it was just him and his father until the new wife came along. His father was too poor as a Nexus fisherman to do more than put food on the table, and even then it was always Momrot or Slumber Worms or Sleepers. Not even the strongest spice could erase the rubbery flavour that all of them contained. His step-sisters and step-mother whinged and whined no matter what they served them. Fifteen years of that  was enough to convince him to seek a life elsewhere. He just needed to save money. He wasn't strong enough to pull ropes or decisive enough to captain a vessel, so he became a cook on minimum wage. Three years, and he was halfway toward his dream of becoming a chef in Emoran or Obaroth; one of those higher-class places anyway. He was so close to earning enough to pay his way toward the bigger cities, and still leave enough for his father to live on.

"When are we stopping?" Flavus panted as he tried to keep pace with Took. 

"When I say so." Took grunted, like always. Flavus was too unfit for this. A cook never ran. Then again, you never saw a thin chef either. 

"Where are we going?" Flavus asked for the millionth time.

"To find that bitch that killed my boss."

"Who's that?"

"Robin Castilloe. She and her friend were chased out of Racour and would have logically avoided Norwich, so they must be heading to Gomulyn or following the coast to Balterbay." 

"How can you be so sure?"

"Norwich is a haven for slave traders. She may be a coward and a killer, but she ain't stupid. Should have finished the job all those years ago and I wouldn't be in this mess." Took grumbled. 

"What happened?" Flavus asked.

"Something called nunya." Took said.

"What's nunya?"

"Nunya goddamned business. Now shut up and stop panting so loud. It's annoying." Flavus tried to steady his breathing by clamping his mouth shut, but his nostrils were too small to expel enough air and he soon sucked in a huge breath. Took sighed and restrained himself from pinching his nose. He didn't really know why he'd allowed the adolescent join him. Maybe it was because he saw the kid as a parallel of the boy he'd once been; no one to care for him and no one to show him the ropes. He ignored that small voice that added that the loneliness of those years after Lamar's business went tits-up and the trio disbanded. Now Lamar was dead, and Bills was just as good as, considering Took hadn't heard word from him ever since the night Lamar killed that Castilloe whore and that little thief got away with a glancing blow to the face. 

When he'd spied a couple of travelers dumb enough to light a fire in the middle of bandit-infested plains, Took thought they'd be easy pickings. Most of them were merchants that readily traded or bartered valuables to keep their lives and buy their silence, or they were rich-folk who didn't even wake as he pilfered their jewels from their very fingers. Creeping into the camp that night, only an hour after spying the dying embers and the lone silhouette, Took had thought it funny that there were two horses. He'd shaken the doubt off, assuming the gelding was a pack-horse. And then that little fairy of a person had climbed up him and stuck her feet in his pockets so that she could reach high enough to hold an arrow at his throat.