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16 Fire Light.

16 Fire Light.

Niklas sat around the fire in the courtyard of the cattle compound. This gathering would mark the first time he actually joined the daily unwind, which seemed to be a tradition for the cattle crew. The Sommerfeldts were present as usual and regarded as equals. They had invited him on more than one occasion, but Niklas felt more comfortable hiding in the Sommerfeldts’ Apartment.

When Robin invited Niklas himself, Niklas finally caved.

Niklas sat between Robin and Ivar. The herdsmen and their families relaxed over cups of steaming tea.

A herdsman was telling a story. Something about a hired hand who couldn’t count past eleven: it was a strange story. There was no mention or example of valor. Those listening laughed when the hired hand did something foolish. Niklas wasn’t listening well enough to understand the punch line.

Niklas looked across the fire at Esther. She was looking at him. He met her eyes. This time, she was the first to look away quickly.

Niklas, unsure what to make it, forced himself to stare down at his boots.

“Move, Robin,” a gangly girl in her late teens aggressively asserted herself between Robin and Niklas.

“Daisy!” Robin protested but yielded, knowing it was a futile battle.

Niklas looked at her in surprise, being so startled by her intrusion.

“Are you strong?” the girl asked. “You look strong.”

“Uh, I guess so,” Niklas said.

“You’re cute.”

“Huh?” Niklas hadn’t ever heard the word before. He glanced at Esther as if for some clue on how to respond. He saw only rage in her eyes.

“Where did you come from? Did Lill really fish you out of the river?” Daisy leaned in, cocking her head to examine Niklas at a near sideways angle.

“Yes,” Niklas said, shrinking before the barrage of questions.

“Esther says you licked some of the Rowan thugs. Are you a boxer?”

“I guess so,” Niklas muttered.

“So where’d you learn to box? Are you from Pit Forest or Colgar? Are you single? Is it true you have tattoos?”

Niklas helplessly looked at Robin for backup. Robin wisely pretended not to see.

“All right, Daisy. Leave the man alone.” Somehow, Esther circled the fire and stood above the girl, her hands planted on her hips.

Daisy looked up at Esther, then leaned in and sniffed Niklas. “You smell like sweat.”

“Daisy! Now!” Esther leaned in threateningly.

“Come on, Esther,” Daisy whined. “Of course, I’m going to vet him if he’s going to stay in the compound.”

“That’s quite enough.”

Daisy looked up at Esther, her lower lip extended in a near-childish pout.

Esther’s eyes flashed as an unspoken rebuke passed between them.

Daisy looked from Esther to Niklas and back again, and then her face broke into a victorious grin.

“I see, you like hi– Ow!”

“Let’s go for a walk, young lady!” Esther cut in, encouraging Daisy to her feet with a handful of dark hair.

“Esther! Hey! Stop! Let me go!”

Esther towed Daisy away.

Niklas looked to Ivar for answers.

Ivar simply shrugged.

Niklas looked back at Esther, who was exchanging hushed but sharp words with the other girl.

Niklas looked into the flames. He had never even heard of mothers fighting, even over small things.

The man speaking finished his story, which was met by a bout of fresh laughter.

Niklas continued to stare into the fire. Things weren’t so bad here. The Sommerfeldts, Osred, and Robin were his friends. He hadn’t had many of those in Pit. Back in Pit, all he had was Edgar.

Edgar.

Niklas wondered where Edgar was and what he was doing now that he would surely know Niklas was faceless.

A log popped in the fire, sending a shower of sparks weaving through the air.

Niklas was already gone for far too long. Edgar would be worried. He thought about the fight that was coming up. If he was right, the working Relrins couldn’t show or practice valor. It would be bottled up inside of them, yearning to come out. They might pay his way to Doctor Geoffrey's if he could help them see what they were missing.

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Esther sat between Niklas and her brother, and Niklas stiffened.

“I’m sorry about Daisy,” she apologized. “She can be a bit eccentric.”

“Oh, it’s not a problem,” Niklas glanced at her sidelong. She was beautiful. He had a word for it. Still looking at her felt wrong, so he looked back at the fire.

“I’m also sorry about earlier,” Esther said more softly. “I didn’t mean to put you between Wilbur.”

Niklas looked back. “It’s okay. I won’t be here for long anyway.”

“You won’t?” she asked, sounding disappointed.

“I need to go home soon… if things work out.”

Esther was silent for a moment. “I hope things work out,” she muttered.

Niklas looked at her again, then back to the fire.

“Thanks for helping Robin,” Esther said as she touched Niklas’ wrist.

Niklas inhaled and jerked his hand away.

Esther looked down. “Sorry.”

“You shouldn’t apologize. Your will is law.”

Esther smiled kindly. “You were in those woods for a long time, weren’t you?”

“You have no idea.”

Esther looked at Niklas thoughtfully for a moment. “Did you get some tea?”

Niklas wrinkled his nose. “I hate that stuff.”

“Seriously?” Esther asked aghast.

“Yeah. Lill made me try some. It’s too sweet.”

“Well, use less honey.”

Niklas shook his head. “I’m not one for grass water.”

Esther laughed. “You’re missing out.”

“You should try joagh,” Niklas said. “Now, that’s how to start a night winter patrol.”

“Are you a soldier?” Esther asked in surprise.

Niklas paused. “I was.”

“Oh,” Esther said, tactfully deciding not to pursue the matter. “So, when are you leaving?”

“As soon as I can,” Niklas said. “I seem to make enemies every day.”

Tim glanced at the bottom of his glass in frustration. Because of his pay cut, he couldn’t even afford to get himself properly drunk. Curse that corpse. Who did he think he was, walking around like he owned the yard? Osred was in on it. They were working together, stealing company funds or something.

It didn’t matter. Tim had heard the rumor; there was supposed to be a fight tomorrow, but he planned to be there to report Niklas. The thought caused him to smile. Management would fire Niklas, and Tim’s problems would drift away.

He tipped the glass back and licked the inside, just trying to get a taste of the cheap spirits he relied on to get from day to day. Zach and Stephan accompanied him, each already a drink ahead of him.

“Zach, spot me a drink,” Tim pleaded.

“Your pay wasn’t the only one that got docked,” Zach complained.

“Because you girls were too cowardly to stand with me,” Tim accused.

“He would’ve done us all, guarantee it.”

“Come on, we all know Osred isn’t that bold, even with the corpse around.”

“I don’t know. He’s changed over the past couple of weeks,” Zach doubted.

“Ever since that cursed corpse came,” Tim corrected. “He’s ruining everything for all of us.”

“He works like a devil, Robin too,” Zach complained. “Course, they will be favorites.”

The man sitting at the table behind them choked on his drink, and with a spray of beer, he started to cough.

“You okay there, mate?” Stephan asked.

The man turned to them, wide-eyed. “I’m sorry, I don’t mean to eavesdrop, but did you say corpse, as in Sharderin, working alongside a man called Robin?”

“What’s it to you?” Tim snapped, lamenting the man’s wasted drink.

“Was he a half-skin with wildman’s hair?”

“That’s the one,” Stephan said. “What’s it to you?”

The man smiled. Based on his clothes he was a martial man, a member of the freelance fighter class. “If it’s who I think it is, he’s recently been insulting my employer, embarrassing him in front of his lady. What was his name?”

“Niklas.”

“So it seems he’s making trouble for everyone,” the man said in a satisfied tone.

Tim snorted in agreement. “That’s not all. Word is that he’s hosting some fight pit, and everyone wants to go. Of course, I’m gonna report him to management the second he does it. But he’s charging money for anyone who wants to watch the fights. He doesn’t even own the place.”

The man looked startled. “A gambling pit? I’ll be… come with me!” He pulled at Tim’s sleeve.

“What's going on here?” Tim demanded.

“I need you guys to come to meet my boss.”

“Where? Why? Who are you?”

“Just back to the booth,” he said, jerking his thumb over his shoulder toward the back of the bar where the private booths were aligned.

“Whose booth?”

“Wilbur Teaman.”

“The tea merchant?”

“That’s the one.”

Tim looked at the other two, who shrugged. “All right.”

The three of them got up to follow the man who led them to a booth in the back. The man rapped on the door.

“Who is it?” a voice demanded from the inside.

“Arth,” the man said.

“What do you want?”

“I have got some men who have something you are going to want to hear,” Arth said.

“Come in.”

Arth opened the door and ushered them in.

They entered to find a dark-haired young man, maybe in his late twenties, sitting at the booth table with a striking young bar escort sitting on his lap. The woman pulled the shoulder straps of her blouse on as the men entered.

Wilbur didn’t look very happy being disturbed. Tim recognized him as one of the major tea merchants in the area and a known indulger in all pleasures.

“This had better be good,” Wilbur growled in annoyance.

“Oh yes,” Arth said. “Very good.”

“Who are they?”

“Workmen. Someone we know is working with them at the mill.”

“Eh?” Wilbur asked, glancing at the trio. “Speak up then, and make it quick.”

“Well, we, eh, don’t know anything. Unless you want to make it worth our time,” Tim cut in, sensing a business opportunity.

“You’re wasting my time. Get out,” the tea merchant commanded as he turned to caress the woman.

“Niklas Loga,” Tim said.

Wilbur stopped.

“If you have an interest in Niklas Loga, then you have an interest in what we have to say,” Tim said, quickly vying for control of the conversation.

Wilbur sighed. “Leave us, dear.”

With a disappointed sigh, the woman slid off Teaman’s lap and scampered past the sawmen and out of the booth.

“Have a seat.”

The four men entered, squeezing into the benches built into the booth.

“Talk.”

Tim looked sadly at his empty mug, which he still clutched.

Wilbur noticed his gaze and took the cue. “Arth, pour my guests a drink.”

With a full glass, Tim was more than eager to speak to his new friend.

“Yeah, the corpse works in my yard.”

“So you work with him...why should I care?”

Tim snorted. “He thinks he’s better than us all. He chums up to the foreman, and I am almost sure he gets paid more than the rest of us.”

”That would be because he’s a wolf,” Wilbur muttered.

“Huh?”

“It’s nothing you would understand.”

Tim shrugged it off. ”Word is that you have problems with the man.”

Wilbur shot a chastening glance at Arth.

“He’s got a gambling ring they’ll be fighting tomorrow. I aim to get him booted from the yard and report that Daft first thing in the morning.” Tim grinned, showing off a row of decaying teeth.

Wilbur’s face twisted in disgust as he looked at the smile.

Tim’s face fell. “What? I’ll be doing both of us a favor. You should pay me for doing the work if he is your enemy.”

“Cattle,” Wilbur muttered.

“What?”

“I said you’re an idiot.”

“Now you just liste–”

“I think I’ve done just about enough of that,” Wilbur cut in. “You can’t even recognize an opportunity.”

“Why you–”

Wilbur dismissed his blunderings and motioned Arth over. “Go get Sorn.”

“Oi! I’m talking to you!” Tim snapped.

Wilbur leaned in. “Listen, Saw Man, I’ve got a much better plan. One that I think you’ll like.”