Lysandra was feeling uncomfortable and tired. She wasn’t used to riding a horse for so many hours, especially not in this heat. And despite her mount, Panecillo, having a smooth and gentle gait, her buttocks needed a break from the saddle. She had spoken to Toothpick about this before lunch. She suggested driving the cart herself for the rest of the day, though he wasn’t too sure about it. Eventually, they reached an agreement. Crab and she would sit in the cart, and she would tie Panecillo to the back. Lysandra’s weight wouldn’t be much more effort for an animal as strong as Crab’s.

It didn’t take long for her to regret her decision, as the jostling of the cart and the hard wooden bench were almost worse than riding the horse.

“Are you alright? You don’t look very well,” Crab said after a while, noticing the discomfort on her face.

“Don’t worry. I’m just not used to traveling for so many hours. Besides, this heat…” she replied, trying to hide her discomfort.

“I have a skin with some spiced wine if you want to quench your thirst,” the burly man interrupted with his grating voice.

“Very kind, but I’m fine,” she declined politely.

They were silent for a few moments until Crab broke the silence again.

“Go ahead, ask.”

“Pardon?” Lysandra responded, not paying much attention.

“Come on, don’t be shy. It’s something that makes people very uncomfortable. I’m used to it.”

“I’m not sure what you mean.”

“My burns. Everyone wants to ask how I got them, but few dare.”

“Well, actually I wasn’t…”

“It was the day I met Toothpick. At that time, I worked for the Raven’s gang in the city of Terranevada. Believe me when I say that man was a real son of a bitch. But back then, I was younger and saw things differently. I was blinded by ambition, and with the Raven, you made money.”

“Really, you don’t have to…”

“You know, the funny thing is that back then, Toothpick was a youngster, about Wart’s age, maybe a bit older, and he worked for the competition. The Rat’s gang. Another guy the Gods have a special place in hell for,” Crab added with disdain.

“Right,” Lysandra responded with a sigh, raising her eyebrows. It was clear Crab was going to tell the whole story regardless of what she said, so she resigned herself to listening to the full tale.

“Toothpick joined the Rat’s gang very young. The youngest of all, by far. He was found as a newborn in a wicker basket, abandoned behind some barrels. His good and holy mother left him a few hours after he was born, still covered in blood and with the umbilical cord hanging. The Rat picked him up and raised him like a son,” Crab continued, with a tone of voice that denoted a certain bitterness.

“He doesn’t seem like such a bad guy then.”

“That’s what you’d think, right?” Crab replied with a grimace. “Well, no. Do you know what they called the Rat’s gang? The Plague. Because they were like a bunch of little rats sneaking into every hole. The bastard dedicated himself to picking up all the brats the world had abandoned to work for him under the pretense of giving them a home.”

“Well, I suppose that’s better than being alone on the streets…”

A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

“I couldn’t tell you. They probably would have fared better on their own. He provided a roof and food, yes, but in exchange for filling his pockets. Every piece of bread he gave his boys was smeared with beatings, and every glass of milk was spiced with cuffs. And that was when he was sober. They say that when he overdid it with wine, the best thing that could happen to his little rats was getting a beating. Because other times… Well, I’ve told you, he raised him like a son. But like a son of a bitch.”

“Wow, it must have been a tough childhood for him. But…”

“Well,” Crab interrupted again. Lysandra was starting to wonder if this was a conversation or a monologue. “Back then, I wasn’t called Crab, but Sweetmouth. Because, unlike now, I had a wonderful voice. And beautiful hair, believe it or not. In fact, I was quite an attractive guy. I used to charm the ladies, who had a certain fascination for ruffians like me.”

“I don’t doubt it,” Lysandra replied, trying to imagine that mound of flesh beside her as a young gallant with a beautiful smile and lovely hair. She couldn’t.

“Of course not! The thing is, both gangs fought for influence in an area of Terranevada. The Scribes' district, if I remember correctly. It doesn’t matter. Our boss came up with a plan to get rid of the Rat and his plague. He spread the word that a house in the area held a great amount of wealth and that on a certain night, it would be especially easy to raid.”

“Well, off the top of my head, I’d think it was a trap,” Lysandra commented, anticipating the outcome.

“That’s what I thought too! But the boss was the boss, so we set up a good ambush. The idea was to fill the house’s basement with buckets of tar and set them alight as soon as the Rat entered, blocking all exits. Of course, it didn’t work. It turned into a dark fight between gangs inside an old mansion. I don’t know how many comrades I lost that day, and even fewer how many the Rat lost. And I don’t know how many casualties were caused among comrades because it was utter chaos. Until the bastard Raven thought of setting the tar alight with everyone inside, friends and foes.”

“It seems he only cared about his own skin, right?”

“You’ve hit the nail on the head. Well, the fire started spreading everywhere, and I couldn’t see how to escape. The rest ran out, at least those who weren’t too injured and could. But I’ve always been a big guy, and the floorboards, already weakened by the fire, couldn’t hold my weight, and I almost fell to the lower floor. Luckily, I managed to grab onto an iron bar that was sticking out. The heat from below was cooking me alive, and the nail was scorching my hand. But I didn’t let go because the flames would have devoured me.”

“How horrible! I’m sorry for…”

“I screamed!” he interrupted her again, really shouting. Lysandra jumped in her seat, startled. “Oh, I screamed. I screamed to the Gods, cursed the Raven in every way I could think of, and insulted this whole world without exception until the smoke burned my throat and I couldn’t say anything more. And when I couldn’t continue, when I was about to let go, a hand emerged from the smoke and grabbed me. It was Toothpick. He had some dagger cuts and burns, but even so, he lifted me with a strength I didn’t expect from someone like him. He covered me with a wet blanket and dragged me out, not caring if I was one of his own or not.”

“Wow… I didn’t know,” Lysandra looked at Toothpick, who was riding far ahead. The way she saw him now was somewhat different.

“That day I lost my hand, my hair, and my voice. But I gained a true friend. And that makes up for everything else.”

Silence settled between them, broken only by the horses’ hooves, the creaking of the cart, and the sounds from the surrounding forest. Lysandra watched the trees passing slowly and allowed herself to enjoy the quiet of the afternoon for a few moments. She began to feel her eyelids drooping. Fatigue weighed on her bones. However, Crab’s story had piqued her curiosity.

“And after that, what happened?” Lysandra asked, wanting to keep the conversation going.

“We decided to leave and form our own gang, so to speak, as it was just the two of us. Toothpick handled the plans and strategies, and I took care of the brute force, so to speak. We complemented each other well,” Crab said with a nostalgic smile. “It was a good time.”

“And Wart?” Lysandra looked at the young man riding behind, chatting animatedly with her sister.

“Ah, Wart. We found him in an alley, malnourished and covered in grime. He was just another street rat, but Toothpick saw something in him. I don’t know what, maybe he saw himself reflected in some way. He gave him food, clean clothes, and a place to call home. He took him in like a father. But truly, not like what he had known with the Rat. Since then, he’s been almost like a son to him,” he paused for a moment and smiled. “And, in a way, to me too. We’ve been teaching him the trade. He’s very good at it; the boy has a sharp mind. And regarding Toothpick, believe me when I say he’s one of the most honorable men you’ll meet in your life.”

“Despite being a thief,” Lysandra said, drawing a slight smile.

“Despite being a thief,” Crab affirmed seriously.