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>   “Why do I gotta walk?”

>   I traveled by horse leading the mutinous two. One on my saddle bag, his legs and arms bandaged and tied with rope, tied underneath the belly of my horse. The pelts were stacked on top of his back and both sat tidy on my rear. I stood tall, moving and breaking into my saddle. Sniffing the air, feeling a warmth start to take me. It was morning, the sun was high and the floor was beginning to cook. Reptiles crawled from underneath the shadows of stones, looking up and shaking their lithe bodies against the light. We traveled parallel the widening river. Sven hogtied on my horse. Klep walking behind, with a rope binding both hands together. He dragged and moaned and cried.

>   “Why do I gotta walk?” He asked. “Sven’s sleeping. See?”

>   “Why the hell do you think you even deserve to live?” I asked. “You’re looking I didn’t throw you both into the river.”

>   “You’re the idiot who let us live. Don’t ask me that.” He said.

>   I turned over, knife in hand. I flipped it and held its tip and raised it as if to aim. Klep shriveled and dug his feet into the ground. The rope tightened and yanked him through the sand.

>   “You’re mighty tough for someone who can get killed so fast.” I said.

>   “You don’t think I don’t know what’s coming?” Klep raised his hands to his face. “I’m dead. Like you said, we committed mutiny.”

>   “Not dead yet. We can fix that.” I said.

>   “Just do it then. Just fucki-”

>   “Klep.” Sven raised his head. His eyes tired, defeated. “Shut up.”

>   Klep looked at him and lowered his face, his lips thinning as he pulled them in. He kept his head low as we strolled.

> Finally, some silence. A good morning it was. I took out a small pouch of spices. A star anise. Some cinnamon. A bit of vanilla bean. Some coffee. Which weren’t the exact ingredients, but the closest I could figure them to be, given the taste. All of these, that I muddled in a little volcanic stone cup. Ground up with the hilt of my knife, poured into a small canister. I poured in some water and waited. A slow steep, a slow day. We rode for an hour, the cup bubbling and fizzing. Every now and then, I dropped a pinch of salt and some sugar. After two hours, it was ready.

> I raised it. Cin-Cin, that’s what the drink was called amongst the Kaviria. I smelled, cinnamon was strong. Drank. Gulped.

>   To my side the river went on and with it dragging, like junk, men in thin boats. Long as hell, bigger than any cart. Stacked evenly on both sides of these canoes were large crates or tied stacks of stuffs. Piles of clothes. Little leather pouches where wooden boxes of spices left, some even drying off the sides of these canoes from lattices clipped on to the edges of the boats. Men in groups of on or three rowed. It wasn’t much, river did most of the work. They went down stream, opposite to me. Dried men with wooden faces, the callouses peeling off their hands as they reeled in ropes speared fish through their bodies, smacking them against the side of the boat when the food squirmed. They wore green hats, which as I narrowed my eyes, were lily pads dried and tied to their chins. A strong, people, darker than Kal some of them.

>   “You told me he went up the river, right?” I asked.

>   “That a question?” Klep said. “I thought I couldn’t ask.”

>   “Yes. He went up the river.” Sven said. I turned to him. He looked at Klep who looked back, both neutral at the face.

>   “That’s right.” Klep said. “But he could be anywhere. He could be halfway to the rose city. He could be in Shrieker’s Veil for all I kn-”

>   “Yeah. Of course.” I said. “Because you were all so brilliant, weren’t you? Stealing in the middle of the night and making a break for the river. Very clever. And then deciding to split up. Who suggested that?”

>   Klep turned his face away. Sven went limp.

>   “Why even do it, you idiots? You could have just left when we reached Kaviria. You didn’t need this drama, you brought it upon yourself.”

>   “Didn’t need it?” Klep asked. “We haven’t gotten paid in the last three jobs. You know that? Ever since Vicentius took on this charity work for the fucking king, we haven’t seen a dime!”

>   “You’ve gotten food and quarter.” I said. “And you had a shot at knighthood.”

>   “Do you even believe any of that shit, firestarter?” He asked. “Real appropriate name that…”

>   “Don’t get mad at me for your poor decisions. If it wasn’t me here, it would have been Sylas. Or god forbid, Vincent.”

>

> This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.

>

>   “Things went to hell when you came along. Vicentius always had these crazy ideas. But. But-”

>   “Klep!” Sven said. “Shut. The fuck. Up.”

>   “You really are the smart one of this trio, aren’t you?”

>   We walked, watching the canoes drift past us with the dead-looking oarsmen staring back. Taking pieces of their fish and mixing them in little boxes of rice, eating, observing. The river widened and with it, fleets of canoes started racing down, some even stabbing their oars into the gravel shores. They pulled their boats, shored them and unloaded their merchandise onto camel-backs where other weary eyed drivers set off on the roads. Far from the city, yet its influence had already reached us miles away. I sipped away at my Cin-Cin, really savoring the sweet bottom of the cup and wiped my mouth when I was done. I looked out. Put away my cup and stopped the horse.

>   “You.” I waved at one of the canoes. “Yes, you!”

>   I waved a bag of silver into the air and stepped down. The man turned, the tip of his boat approaching me. The painted insignia on the lacquered planks of his rear reading, “S&S”. The boat lodged into the smooth stones. The fish wrapped around and underneath and the waters muddled brown from disturbed sand. Beyond me, sands of hidden life. In these waters, a disturbing amount of it.

>   “How much time can you spare me?” I asked.

>   “The route is derailed…I’m losing time and well…”

>   I threw the bag at him. He caught it close to his chest and moved the coins with his index finger, one eye closed. He lipped his count but made no noise save for the rustle of metal.

>   “I can give you five minutes.” HE said. “No more. No less.”

>   “How far are we from the city, would you hazard?”

>   “On horse?” He rubbed his chin. “With those two? I’d say you’re half a week, maybe more if you get into trouble.”

>   “Believe me, I’m the man that solves trouble.” I said. He turned his head and looked at the two hanging on my horse.

>   “Mhm.”

>   “Did you see someone on horse.”

>   “Three minutes.”

>   “Did you see someone recently, on horse back.” I asked.

>   “Two minutes.” He said. “I see plenty of people on horse. Be more specific.”

>   “A man selling pelts, like mine. Liathel.” I said. “I’m sure you don’t see many selling liathel.”

>   “No, I do not.” He said. “And if I saw someone as you say, I would have made him an offer.”

>   “Shit. Well thanks old man.”

>   He shook his coin purse.

>   “Thank you, young man.” He said. “Say, about those pelts. How much to take the load off your horse?”

>   I waved him away. Starting off, my horse shaking its head and starting off. The man dug his oar into the dirt and pulled away from land.

>   “You might find him at the crossing. Before the river breaks.” He said. “There’s a little market down there.”

>   I turned. Smiling, waving my head.

>   “You should have sold, Virgil.” Klep said. “You ain’t going to get a better deal than that. The whole nest is bust and you know it.”

>   “Money isn’t everything.” I said. “There is more than the silver you accumulate.”

>   “That’s nice coming from someone still getting paid. Is it ‘cause the both of you are lovers?” Klep smiled. “That’s what they say. All those late nights in his tent. The sudden rise-”

>   I pulled his rope into the horses ass and pulled him up by the collar. His legs dangled. Sven turned in his bondage, yelping no, no, no. The oarsmen stared, some eating fruits and throwing them into a river where they plopped.

>   “I got to where I am by my strength of will and talents.”

>   “I’ve seen better men.” He said. “I’ve been here four years longer than you, firestarter. Wolf. Brown cheeks. You don’t even know my name, do you?”

>   “No. I don’t. And no one will after this.” I dropped him. He fell face first into the floor and rubbed his head as he stood to walk.

>   “The Crows are goin’ to hell and Vicentius is delivering them all there.” He said. “You really filled his head with that king shit, didn’t you?”

>   “Ambition is what made him a great man. And it’s what separates him from the thieves and opportunists like you.”

>   “Stealing our pay. Exploitin’ my good killing skills. Wasting me in a cart. You can’t call that anything else but thievery.” Klep said. “Shit. I think these pelts were owed to us, honest’.”

>   “Klep.” Sven breathed hard. Puffing hot air from his red cheeks. “Please. Shut. The fuck. Up.”