Throughout her life, Esmi had been under the impression that gypsies were particularly well-adapted to thieving and trickery. After all, if they weren’t, then why would they have made that their life?

The two days she spent with Bogdi cured her of any such illusions. The big guy could easily pass as one of the geese, but he only used that in his favor to avoid getting caught doing precisely what any gypsy would. With Esmi there it was even easier, since all geese were wary of gypsies and focused only on her, worried they might get pickpocketed, so that Bogdi could operate with ease. Just in the first day since they left Marash, Bogdi picked the pockets of two different travelers they met with on the road and looted a chest from a third. The latter was coming from the other way by wagon and saw them resting by the road, at which point he asked if they could watch his things while he went to take a piss.

Bogdi wasted no time: his meaty hands deftly opened the chest, out of which he helped himself to three pairs of fine leather gloves. It wasn’t enough for the man to notice, and by the time the night was upon them Bogdi had found a other clients to sell all three for cheap. Even while traveling, he could keep in business.

“You steal a lot,” said Esmi as she sat with him by the fire that evening. There were no inns around these parts to stay at, and Bogdi said none of the villagers would take them in for the night—they had no tolerance for gypsies.

Bogdi cracked sunflower seeds between his teeth and spit out the shells into the fire, looking up at the stars. “You do what you need to survive. You should know that by now.”

That would’ve made sense, but… “You don’t need it to survive,” said Esmi pointedly. “The geese see you as one of their own. Couldn’t you just go and become a laborer?”

“And then what, eh? Break my back working on the manor of some lord? Bah! I’d rather rob him. Maybe fuck his wife or daughter if they’re nice and soft.” He smirked.

“It’s just not fair.” Esmi stretched her legs around the fire, trying to keep warm. The nights were getting colder, and the snow was unavoidable. This winter would be harsher than anyone imagined.

“What’s not fair, girlie?”

“You pretend to be a gypsy when you’re with us, but you don’t experience any of the downsides.”

“Pretend?” That seemed to irk him. “Who’s pretending? I am one of you. I am now, at least. Manu formally invited me into the clan.”

“Yeah… But not really.”

Bogdi cracked another seed between his teeth and spit the shells along with a mouth of phlegm. The flames hissed and crackled. “What does that mean?”

“It means that most gypsies are in the clan because they’ve got nowhere to go. Like me. Where am I gonna go? But you could. You just don’t want to.”

He snorted. “So you’re a victim, is that it? Poor you.”

Yes, I am, thought Esmi, though clearly he was not intent on hearing her out. Her words seemed to have gotten to him more than she expected, because he remained moody even when it came time to sleep. Once she had stretched by the fire, ready to sleep, he finally took out his bottle to drink by himself. Only when her eyes were closed did he start and say, “My father killed my mother when I was little. Do you think that was a stroke of good luck?”

Esmi kept her eyes closed. Bogdi continued: “Don’t think he meant to do it. He was just a big idiot, a drunk, and she was a whore that kept working long after she promised to stop. One day she must have said the wrong thing or maybe the idiot found out she was with a client and he must have hit her a little too hard. And that was that. Dead. Then, of course, her family showed up and they killed him in revenge. I was sent to live with one of aunts, who pretty much saw me as a slave she rarely saw fit to feed. And there’s nothing interesting about it like what happened to you. There’s nothing interesting being born of a drunk and a whore.”

By his tone, the story did not leave him too broken up. “That’s sad,” she said. “But it doesn’t change what I think.”

There were no hard feelings the next day. Bogdi looked as eager as ever to get on with their journey once he woke her. “Slept well?” he asked.

Esmi dusted off the light blanket of snow off herself and stood up. Her breath smoked in the cold air. Her stomach churned, all empty. “You still haven’t said where we were going.”

“We’re close now. Real close.”

Bogdi hopped back into the saddle and scooped her up in front, then they continued. At times, Esmi worried if perhaps he was simply seeking to escape Marash and she had joined in on his scheme without even knowing. Maybe this wasn’t supposed to help Manu at all.

Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.

However, around on this second day of travel, they came out of a path that needled through a pine forest and emerged at the top of a hill that sloped down towards a valley. A wide slow river ran through it, and the few houses that dotted the area were all connected to patches of arable land. “This is it,” he said.

It was quaint enough, but she could see no reason as to why they had to come all this way. What were they going to steal? At least, she thought they were going to steal. Bogdi hadn’t been to clear on what they were going to do. “How do you know it’s the right place?”

He pointed up to a nearby mountain peak where she could see a statue emerging from the clouds. “See that old geezer? Former emperor, so they say.”

“Who put it here?”

“Beats me. But we’re in the right place, that’s for sure.”

Esmi was instructed to put on her headscarf and act sickly and pathetic. As their horse trotted down the path towards the village, they were greeted by a chubby villager coming up the same way. He seemed to be walking unsteadily, and even Esmi could tell that he was drunk. “The perfect victim,” whispered Bogdi.

“Sir!” said Bogdi, jumping down to go put a hand on the man’s shoulder. “Are you all right?”

The villager nodded with his ruddy, good-natured face. “Oh, I’m more than alright. I’m completely wasted!”

Bogdi grinned. “That’s the best thing to be.”

“You’re goddamned right. Just can’t go back home yet.”

“Wife won’t leave you alone?”

“Mother-in-law,” he said, grimacing. “Might put a real beating to me. She’s bigger even than you, that ogre.”

Bogdi told him a high tale about how they had gotten lost and how they were seeking to make their way back east. “Oh, well, you’re far off from the capital, I can tell you that,” said the villager. “You’ve gotta take the road and keep going south.”

“I met a man the other day who said we should be careful around these parts.”

“Here?” The villager was taken aback. “We’re good folk here.”

Bogdi shrugged. “He said he’s seen an orc around these parts.”

“Orc? That’s just—” The villager suddenly stopped and went quiet. He grinned stupidly. “I wouldn’t worry about no orc, mister. You can get a good rest here and be on your way. You and your—”

“Daughter,” said Bogdi.

“You fancy gypsy women, eh?” The villager sized Esmi up for a while. “Was her mother a looker?”

Was he implying that she wasn’t? “She was beautiful,” said Esmi coolly.

Bogdi patted her on the head to cool her off. “She takes after me.”

“So I see.”

The villager, whose name was Marlo, wished to go and wait out his drunken state, but Bogdi convinced him to sample some of the wine he had on him, and soon the villager had led them to a small clearing in the forest, a retreat by the ruins of an old wooden shack where he and others apparently liked to drink at times.

Bogdi made him laugh and exchanged stories. Only as dusk gathered did he dare to bring up the topic again. “So, you say there’s no orc here?”

“Look, you might see an orc, maybe, but don’t worry,” said Marlo. “He’s under control.”

“Civilized orc, eh?”

Marlo snorted derisively, his face so red now that he looked quite ghastly and monstrous himself. “As if. They’re animals. I used to be scared of them, but now I know, the only thing you should fear in life are mages and moneylenders. Orcs are just beasts.”

“Ain’t that the truth,” said Bogdi, slurping down more wine. Esmi sighed, bored and disinterested. What about this orc? Was this even real?

“Anyway… Listen, you can keep a secret?”

Bogdi shrugged reluctantly. “Well, I wouldn’t want to get you in trouble.”

Marlo, who led a boring life, was interested in sharing any secret, even one that was not his own, so long as it could give him a patina of coolness. “We’ve got some bloke living not so far from here. He’s the one with the orc. I think his business is thieving or some such, but it’s not my place to judge. He takes good care of the people in the village. His grandma and mine are second cousins—so he’s blood, in a way. Not that I know him.”

“The orc’s his?”

“For protection, he says. Still scares most kids shitless.” Marlo took another mouthful of wine and frowned thoughtfully. “Scares me too, a little—least I wouldn’t want to be at his mercy. But you’ve got nothing to worry about with me around. I’ll put in a good word for you.”

Marlo drank so much that he fell asleep even as Bogdi shared a story about his favorite Virgin back in Marash. He gently nudged Esmi to follow quietly and led her and the horse out of the clearing. “That man sure can drink,” he said.

Esmi could see that he was happy. “We’re in the right place?”

“We are indeed. Only one way to make certain.”

They tied up the horse at the forest’s edge, but out of the sight of the village, then they crepy along the river till they reached the spot described by Marlo. Threading their way carefully through the woods, they walked and walked, following the light marks left on the trunks that probably would’ve looked natural to anyone who didn’t know what they were looking for, until, at last, they came upon a compound lying in the gloomy darkness. A high timber wall rose up to encircle the building that they could only see the roof of. There were no sentries stationed there, no lights, and no road leading away to it from the forest.

“Extremely sneaky,” said Bogdi.

Esmi imagined an orc being inside of there and could feel her little heart pounding. Her blood rushed, hot and ready. “What do we do now? Do we go inside there?”

Bogdi turned her head towards her slowly, and for the first time on their journey seemed dismayed. “Are you damned stupid, Esmeralda? Of course we don’t go inside. Don’t make a sound. You’d be killed if we’re found, or worse—do I look to you like I can kill an orc? We’ve gotta get out of here. Manu will wait for us. Come on, let’s get back.”

“We came all this way for nothing!?”

“This isn’t nothing,” he said. “We have something more valuable than gold—information.”

Esmi still couldn’t believe it. She thought they had come here to do something important.

When they got back to the horse it was so dark out that they could barely see, but at least it wasn’t snowing. Bogdi mounted and scooped her up again. “Aren’t we gonna sleep?” Esmi demanded to know.

Bogdi shook his head. “You can sleep in the saddle. I’m going to ride back as fast as I can, so get ready.”

Sighing, she looked on ahead as the horse snorted and started. “If I knew this would be so boring, I wouldn’t have come.”

“Hey, I did try to get rid of you, didn’t I? You insisted. In any case, get some sleep. It’s gonna be an even longer way to get to Manu.”

“We’re going to see him?” That made her change her attitude.

“We sure are.”