Author: Ben Riker

Five times now she’s flinched at the sound of foot steps.

Twice now she’s moved away when someone approaches.

Constantly she’s looking around.

Twice now he’s just stared into space. Looking at the woods.

I wonder if he knows how many times he’s spun that bolt.

No more private meetings. Probably a good idea. Sad as it is to say. Untill this business is done. I don’t think it can be another way.

Vernon looks like he’s lost all hope. His face is covered in worry. I think I could string a bow with the weight of sorrow his heart holds.

Something is going to happen. And he’s sick his words might damn another. It’s hard to have hope when you can’t see a path to the light.

Like broken glass the cracks are showing.

What will next forum bring? Two more deaths?

Just maimings?

I fear our souls will all bear the cracks.

Two knives. And not one thing they can do.

I wonder if this is how Vernon feels watching, not knowing what to do.

Watching souls shatter like broken glass.

Gods it was easier when I didn’t care.

It always amuses me how some find it hard to put down a wild animal. For what else can one who takes their own kin and would use and trade them as such.

I can tell Bryn is no stranger to doing a days work. No matter what that work may be. The others though. They know the trade of violence but bith of them looked sick as we burried the men.

The southern would say it is a sign their souls are clean, that they would suffer these. Wounds. For doing work.

I know those who still feel when their blades bite, are perhaps in better health.

It makes me.wonder then when I feel peace. Fullfillment, for what we did. This was right. This needed to happen for the community to heal.

What does it say about me when I smile and am released while others feel their souls crumble.

At least Clemens words I can take true pride in.

“Because of you, I dedicate myself to the community.”

My actions, my example. To think I would be the one to help him find what he wants to fight for.

I can take pride in that. That my story, helped him become the man he wants to be.

There is no shame in that. I can hold onto that.

I’ll be a man worth such admiration.

I knew it would happen.

You do something foolish once, and get away with it, and people expect you to do it again. It was a miracle it worked at all in the first place. It doesn’t matter all the little things that made it work—the quirks of fate, the quick thoughts, and fast hands.

All they know is you did it before. you can do it again.

Right?

Well. I did.

Walked right out that door and at the first yell, slipped into the dark, dragging that blasted box the whole way.

Doesn’t matter we got what we wanted out of it.

Doesnt matter that we dealt a blow to the drug dealers, to the people hurting our man.

No. All they care about is the greed. that golden glint in their eyes.

Not even for riches they ever managed but for the riches they might.

Worst part is.

The story will spread.

You’ve done it twice? you can do it again.

Right?

In one forum I doubled my wealth. from one knife to two.

staring into the fire the forums events kept playing on loop.

—
“Just put the money on the ground” hissed an unsteady voice. “Now back away. Back AWAY!” she shouted, knife held to the child’s throat.
—
“Where are you going Kanut?” the voice reverberated though area “Did you bring me tasty Meat?”.
—
“Take him in to custody” Lady Vindicta pronounced.
—
The world swirled in colors, magic hidden glowing into sight, Ancient Shade coming into sharp Contrast.
—

“Still in your own head?” Clements voice spoke over the crackling fire. “You wont find answers there, Rumination is like rocking in a chair. It gives you something to do but gets you no where”

“I’m more worried about what sticks in my mind and what does not.” Kicking the burlap sacks sitting beside me. “Those should probably make me more uncomfortable than the rest”.

“I am twice as wealthy as I was last forum, and yet I now have a myriad of problems” Sigurd deadpanned.

“Myriad?” Clements mused.

“Just because I cant mark it in ink does not mean I don’t know what it means Clements”

“Fair, enough Sigi” Clements assuaged. Glancing down at the burlap sacks Clements ask the question that had been hanging in the air. “What are you going to do with those.”

“Take a leaf out of your book Clements, Teach a lesson.” Standing Sigurd looked over to Clements across the fire. “Kanewt will not be here next forum to ease the lesson. In a way i’m glad he wont have to see it.”

Picking up the pair of burlap sacks, the knives weighed heavily at my belt. Twice the wealth, twice the trouble, a pair of heads in burlap sacks.

One Door.
One window.
Three Bunks, a wash basin, and a “water closet”. Never in my dreams did I think I would have such comfort.

Looking back at his bunk, Sigurd paced the room. No way to secure the window but any who wanted to use it would have to climb over a sleeping Kanut. Good enough. One way or another an intruder from that path would resolve itself.

Unfurling a patterned blanket, Sigurd paused. Was there really no one who needed this cloth? to think spare Blankets. He shuddered with how wasteful an action this would have been just weeks before. Sliding the blanket under the mattress above Sigurd made sure to leave a gap next to the head board.

With cloth draped all around the lower bunk one could not tell if someone lay within. sliding into the makeshift cave, Sigurd smiled with satisfaction. A perfect sliver of vision looking out at the door, with enough room to respond to unwanted guests.

Stepping Out Sigurd stripped.

Taking one last look around, Sigurd grasped his sole possession, A black dagger. Gifted to him by his Lady’s other vasal. Kanut.

“Two blankets, a cloak, and a knife.” Sigurd wondered aloud. “Never did I think I would have this much to call my own.”

Climbing back into bed, Dagger in hand, Sigurd lay watching the open doorway. Dagger ready to strike.

“This place. I could call home.”