Gabriel sat at the sturdiest looking table in The Blighted Pond, picking splinters from the wooden surface. It was well after dawn, but the sun never really streaked into The Blighted Pond, regardless of the time. Instead, light crept in through cracks and holes, skirting around the common room apologetically, asking pardon for the intrusion. Gabriel and Bling were alone in the dilapidated chamber, save for an elderly customer snoring gently on one of the benches. They had been here for some time now, patiently waiting for the breakfast Reina had promised them last night. It seemed the owners of the Blighted Pond were as unconcerned with tardiness as they were with cleanliness.

“I think at this rate we might have to hunt some rats for breakfast,” Gabriel complained to his sister.

Bling dutifully drew a knife and started scouting under the tables.

“I was just joking, Natasha. We’re not actually going to eat rat. Rats are unclean, remember?”

The redhead shrugged and dropped the knife on the table. She went back to fussing with her hair, adding her new favourite baubles from her most recently acquired batch of trinkets.

Gabriel was ashamed to find that he was no longer comfortable being alone with his sister. It was when it was just the two of them that Gabriel really felt the gulf between them. The old Natasha was quick to fill silences with a joke or a story, and she could read a room better than Agatha could read a teapot. At times like these it became abundantly clear how much of her was really missing, and how easily one of the other souls came to the surface.

“Smile,” Natasha said, and demonstrated for her brother.

Gabriel almost fell off the bench. Just when he thought he was losing her she came to the surface again. Maybe she could still read a room.

Gabriel grinned, and was surprised to find that it was genuine, “Better?”

“Good,” Natasha nodded.

The lucidity didn’t last. It never did.

Confusion rippled across Bling’s face and she became suddenly agitated. She knew she had been talking, that she had been communicating something important, but it was gone. Bling flapped around for inspiration and found it in the palm of her hand. She handed Gabriel a small bell. It rattled soothingly as she folded it into her brother’s fingers. Surely that had been it. That must have been what she was doing. She smiled to herself, pleased with the deduction.

Gabriel still wore the grin, but it took on a different quality. He smiled as reassuringly as he could, afraid to startle Natasha and draw attention to her struggle. He took the bell that was offered and moved to join Bling on the opposite bench. Almost ritualistically, he braided the bell into her hair with the myriad of others.

“What do you suppose the others are up to?” he asked rhetorically, “Well, I think we know what Lydia’s up to. I hope she’s sobered up by the time we need to get going; she’s enough of a handful as it is!”

Bling laughed along with her brother, picking up on the social cue.

“It’s not noon yet, so I’m not surprised Vish isn’t about. Figo must have got an early start and gone for a wander. He does have a thing for markets and mornings, neither of which I’ll ever understand,” Gabriel carried on the conversation for both of them.

Bling started humming The Eternal Ballad. It was a tune a herbalist in Gladstone had taught her. It was a soft tune, sweet but melancholic. Gabriel wracked his brain to remember some of the lyrics but they weren’t coming. Still, he recalled hearing that it was about a soldier’s wife who sang every day her husband was away. Each sunset that passed without his return, she would add an extra line to the song. As so often happens, one campaign he did not return at all, and so the song grew ever longer until she finally passed, an elderly widow, singing from dawn to dusk and shedding tears for a man whose face she could no longer recall. Tradition has it that each time the song is sung, the performer adds their own line to the end, to honour the memory of the soldier’s wife, and pray for the safe return of their loved ones.

The funerary tone of the melody led to thoughts about Vicus. Gabriel couldn’t quite come to terms with what he had seen. Each time he grasped the memory it was eclipsed by another thought, any thought at all. His mind rejected the image, unable, or unwilling, to give credence to it. He’d faced death before, with the bandits, for example. He had seen it, experienced it, sometimes even had a hand in it. There was something very different about this though. Walking a bound man to his execution was a new level of macabre. Why should it be though? When had he become so blasé about death anyway? Until a week ago, death was something that happened to other people, far away from him. Now the list of bodies haunting their journey had grown once more. Twice more, in fact, how could he forget Goyun? Now there’s another poor soul who would almost definitely be alive today if they had never intervened. If this was what it was to be a true mercenary, Archimedes and his ilk could keep it. Gabriel didn’t want to get used to killing and dying, and he definitely didn’t want to feel responsible for it.

“Hungry,” Bling announced.

Gabriel snapped back to the more immediate and pressing concern once again, “Gods, yeah, me too. What kind of inn is this? If we weren’t staying here for free, I’d feel totally robbed.”

Having waited what seemed an eternity for breakfast, Gabriel decided it was probably reasonable to take matters into his own hands. He got up from the table and went for a nose behind the bar.

Popping his head into the kitchen he was unsurprised to find it devoid of human life, and even less surprised to see rodents disappear beneath the cupboards out of the corner of his eye. Ordinarily, that would be enough to render his appetite well and truly dead, but he’d also done his fair share of drinking the day before, and he was utterly famished.

A quick reconnaissance mission yielded a pitcher of semi-clean water, and a heel of stale bread. He took both and lay the bounty out at their table.

Bling seemed totally satisfied with the paltry offerings, and munched away ravenously… or crowously, Gabriel supposed.

The siblings were busy trying to swallow lumps of dry bread when they heard the heralding sound of feet dragging down steps. The entire tavern seemed to shake a little with each footfall. Gabriel was a little surprised to see their reasonably petite mind-mapper descending, and not their gigantic warrior. Clearly The Blighted Pond was in worse shape than he’d thought.

“Nice of you to finally join us,” Gabriel said, and then frowned. There was a flutter of movement at Vish’s side, “Wait a minute, is that..?”

Jenna, Reina’s daughter, and the unofficial chef of The Blighted Pond, poked her head around Vish’s torso. The mousey brunette blushed bright red when she made eye contact with Gabriel, and quickly dashed for the safety of the kitchen.

Vish shrugged as the young woman bolted away from him without so much as a word or a backwards glance, and went to join the other mercenaries at their sad little table.

“Pass me some of that bread,” was the first thing Vish said, “I am starving.”

Gabriel darkened, “So are we, Vish, so are we. And now I know why. We’ve been down here all morning, patiently waiting for our breakfast to materialize.”

“Your patience is appreciated! It was a busy morning, if you catch my drift.”

“I really wish I didn’t.”

“Because of the sex.”

“Yes, thank you, Vish. Well I suggest we eat quickly, because gods know how Reina and Klaus are going to take it when they find out that their only daughter has been sullied by a non-paying guest.”

“Oh, so now the issue is that I’m not paying.”

“No, Vish, the issue is that you’re a selfish bastard. You’re a selfish bastard, and, as per usual, I’m going to be the one to suffer for it.”

“What, by having to wait a bit for your brekkie? Come now. You get breakfast every day, how often do I find a viable partner?”

“We meet women everywhere we go!”

“I said viable.”

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

“A fair point. Still, I would hope that, ‘daughter of the family hosting us’, would have moved her out of that category,” Gabriel said, fingers on his temples.

“What do you know, it didn’t.”

“We can only hope that Jenna keeps quiet.”

“Bit late for that.”

“Gods, Vish!”

There was another rumble as the floorboards creaked and footsteps sounded on the stairs. The three of them watched with their hearts in their throats. Vish didn’t quite duck under the table, but he looked like he wanted to.

It was only Figo.

Figo, and Adam, Reina’s son.

The pair of young men descended the stairs together. Figo looked a little sheepish, but happy. Adam was positively beaming. The young bartender, slightly younger than Figo but taller and broader, squeezed the archer’s hand and said a few quiet words of farewell before ducking into the kitchen to help his sister.

Figo spotted the others a little too late. He jumped half out of his skin. The hunter looked at the door longingly, but eventually decided to face his fate. He slunk over to their table, not making eye contact with anyone as he sat down.

When nobody had said anything for a while, Gabriel greeted the blond with a pleasant, “What, by all of the gods, was that?”

“Yeah, I didn’t get a goodbye,” Vish grunted.

“Not that, that!”

Figo glanced up and then immediately lowered his eyes again, “Umm, I’m not sure, to be honest. It just sort of… happened.”

“These things don’t just happen, Figo. Finding some change in your pocket, now that sort of happens. Rain just happens. This?” Gabriel flummoxed, “What does this mean?”

“I don’t know.”

“I do!” Vish said, “It means that our chances of getting breakfast soon just doubled,” Vish was rubbing his hands together.

“Have some compassion, Vish! Figo is going through something here, and we need to show our support!”

“Oh, is that what you were doing?” Vish snorted.

“This is serious, Vish. Figo might be,” Gabriel looked around conspiratorially, “interested in men,” he whispered.

“Wooooah,” Vish smacked his cheeks, “Yeah, don’t care.”

“Vish!”

“No, no,” Figo interjected, “that actually really helps. Thanks, Vish,” he was smiling awkwardly.

“Hey, any time. Really, I mean that.”

“Hold on, hold on,” Gabriel raised a halting hand, “Are you really saying Vish is doing a better job of this than me?”

Figo shrugged one shoulder, “Sorry Gabriel.”

“Unbelievable.”

“I just want a bit of time and space, you know? To figure things out.”

Gabriel was undeterred, “It’s just, well…”

“You can say it,” the archer said softly.

“I’ve seen you with tons of women!” he blurted, “You’re popular with the girls. Was that, was that all a lie?”

“No!” Figo frowned, “At least I don’t think so. I’ve always enjoyed the time I’ve spent with, umm, any of my partners.”

Gabriel read between the lines, “Wait a minute, does that mean this isn’t a first?”

“No,” he briefly met Gabriel’s eye, “My very first,” Figo didn’t quite know what to call it, “love… was a boy.”

Gabriel shuffled forward on his bench, “Are you serious?”

“Yes. His name was Marnus, and he worked in town. I used to sell pelts to his aunt,” Figo gulped.

“What the hell happened?”

“Father found out and,” his eyes glazed over, “let’s just say he didn’t approve.”

Gabriel was nodding somberly, “Then after that you just sort of, got over it?”

“I don’t know if it’s something you just get over, Gabriel, but that was the last time, yes,” Figo said ruefully.

“And now you like boys again?”

“I don’t know. I’m just not sure about myself right now.”

“Eish, a bit early in the morning for an identity crisis, isn’t it?” Vish cut in, “Look, it’s simple. You’re Figo. I’m Vish. She’s Bling. He’s a dick. See, nothing’s changed.”

“Thanks, Vish,” Figo said again.

“Yeah, thanks Vish,” Gabriel said, less enthusiastically.

“Any time.”

There was another long pause, during which Gabriel fidgeted relentlessly.

“It’s just that, I don’t get as many women as you do, and I like women!” Gabriel blurted.

“Oh, real classy, Gabe!” the mind-mapper berated.

“Sorry, sorry… Just seems a bit unfair, is all.”

“What, you think Figo has been taking away the entire pool of women from you?” Vish scoffed.

“No! It was just easier not to feel rejected when they went for him instead, you know? I mean, he’s young, handsome…”

“Has a personality more appealing than wet bean paste. All of those things, I totally agree,” Vish finished for him, “These all sound more like you problems than him problems.”

Gabriel made to argue back but received a very clear kick to the shins for his trouble. He was a little slighted to find it was Natasha who had kicked him, but the fact he had reasonable cause to believe either of the others could have and would have, was a good indication that he was in the wrong. Natasha probably hadn’t followed the conversation, but she had a good eye for when people were ganging up on Gabriel for no reason, and for when they were ganging up on him because he was in the wrong. She always chose the most painful times to demonstrate her awareness, Gabriel reflected.

The captain sighed, “You’re right. Guys, I’m sorry,” he hesitated, “Sorry Figo.”

“It’s really okay, Gabriel.”

“No, no, it’s not okay. It’s none of my business who you choose to spend your free time with.”

Vish frowned, “Okay, now I’m offended. I just got an earful for spending the night with Jenna!”

“Don’t be an arse, Vish. It’s not about you.”

“The audacity of this guy.”

Something occurred to Gabriel, “You know, I feel like we don’t know each other nearly well enough. We travel together, we work together, we’re a team! Then something like this happens and we realise that we don’t know a damn thing about each other.”

“Please don’t take it personally, Gabriel,” Figo beseeched.

“I’m not, I’m not. I just want us to feel like we have each other’s backs, you know? Like we can trust each other. Like we know all the ins and outs. Like, okay, what’s your favourite food, for example? Can you believe I don’t even know that?” Gabriel was getting surprisingly fired up for a man with only three mouthfuls of bread in his stomach.

Figo fidgeted slightly and then smiled softly, “Alright, well, perhaps we can blame it on the trade, but I’ve always loved roast venison. There’s a spotted deer near Gladstone which is really delicious. It’s lean meat, so you have to be careful not to let it dry out, but there’s nothing better if you get it right.”

“Great! That’s great! I feel like we’re closer already. Okay Vish, your turn next.”

“Nope.”

“Come on, Vish, we’re team building here.”

“I do not care.”

“I mean, it’s either that or I tell the story about when you went spear fishing in Marrinton. The choice is yours,” Gabriel weighed up the two options in his hands, like a set of scales.

“For crying out loud, fine. I guess my favourite food is free food.”

“Viiish.”

“Ugh, anything wrapped in pastry, I guess,” he briefly forgot his reluctance to engage, and got lost in a daydream, “I do love pastry.”

“There, that wasn’t so hard, was it?” Gabriel moved around the table, “And of course Natasha’s favourite is apricot jam tart.”

“Bacon,” Bling barked.

“No, Natasha, not what you want now, what’s your favourite food ever.”

“Bacon,” she said levelly.

“No, I mean, ah, nevermind. I don’t think she understands.”

“I’m not sure it’s her who doesn’t understand,” Vish said into his cup as he took a sip of water.

“Anyway, don’t you feel better, even for sharing something as small as that?”

Figo straightened a little, “I suppose I do.”

“Pleasure… Isn’t anyone going to ask me?”

“Oh, umm, what’s your favourite food, Gabriel?”

“Oh, I’m so glad you asked. Eesh, that’s tough, there are so many great choices.”

“Gabe,” Vish snapped.

“Oh, alright, fine. The local specialty in Adenvar, where Natasha and I are from, was a cream chicken stew that was so buttery you felt like you were having a heart attack after one bite. I honestly wasn’t a fan of it as a kid, but recently I just can’t stop thinking about it!” he laughed to himself, “Weird, I know.”

“Well, I think it sounds great,” Figo encouraged.

“Yeah. Maybe we can get some around here somewhere. Jandrir is full of people from all over,” the captain wondered.

“I hope so! I’d love to try it.”

They picked at the last crumbs of bread in thoughtful silence.

Gabriel finally moved on to what was really bothering him, “What do you guys think about Goyun?”

“I don’t,” Vish said flatly.

“Come on, don’t you feel even a little bit responsible?” Gabriel said.

“Nope.”

“We were the last people to see him alive, most probably-”

“-Minus whoever killed him-”

“-and we didn’t exactly leave him in a good state,” Gabriel finished.

“But we didn’t kill him,” Vish pointed out, holding up a finger to illustrate his point.

“He almost certainly died because he spoke to us,” Figo muttered.

“He probably should have been working for the good guys then,” Vish shrugged.

Gabriel tapped his chin, “How do we know he wasn’t?”

“You don’t have to interrogate good guys.”

“They interrogated Dexy,” Gabriel retorted.

“Would we call Dexy good?” Vish crumbled when they all stared at him for long enough, “Okay, fine, that was pretty shitty. We can’t go around blaming ourselves for everyone else’s actions though, no matter what part we had to play. A person will go mad like that.”

There was some wisdom to this, Gabriel realised, but what he said was, “I’m not sure that I’m not actually going mad from all this.”

“Vish is right, Gabriel. I also feel terrible, but I have to believe we are doing the right thing. I hope that what we’re doing, this job we’ve taken on, well, I hope it’s helping. Even if it’s only in some small way,” Figo smiled bitterly.

“Not exactly what I said, but whatever helps you sleep at night,” Vish said, clapping the archer on the back.

“I’m finding it hard to believe that stealing back a bunch of jewels for a self-inflated tycoon, with questionable morals, can really be painted in a good light at all,” Gabriel said petulantly.

“If we weren’t doing it, someone else will be,” Vish said, spreading his palms on the table.

“They might do it without sewing chaos every step of the way.”

“Come now, we’re not that bad,” the mind-mapper said defensively.

Gabriel almost didn’t want to ask the next question, “Do you think it was… you know who? Who killed Goyun, I mean?”

Figo looked uncomfortable, “I don’t want to think it was. Perhaps we’re jumping to conclusions?”

“Perhaps,” Gabriel folded his arms on the table, and sunk his head into them, “or perhaps we’re being hopelessly naïve, and ignoring the obvious.”

The steps rumbled again, this time much more so than before. The banister moaned under the weight of whoever was using it, and the whole building felt like it was listing.

Lydia appeared at the bottom of the stairs, surprisingly spry for a woman who had consumed a vat of alcohol.

Reina and her husband, Klaus, followed a step behind.

Lydia said a quick goodbye to the couple, slapped them each playfully on the buttocks, and then went to join her comrades while the husband and wife scuttered off to the kitchen, giggling amongst themselves like children.

Delicately, Lydia lowered herself onto the bench next to Vish, displacing the mind-mapper and hunter like a stone dropped in a pond.

A few of the mercenaries were smirking, one of them was scowling, but they were all looking at the yawning warrior.

“What?” she finally said.

“Hey, hey, Lydia,” Vish said, elbowing her in the side.

She sighed half-turned to face the mind-mapper, “Yes?”

“What’s your favourite food?”