A deal? Is he going to offer to buy me more food?
“You claim to be the heir of Tosa, correct?” asked Jad, taking a sip of beer.
“I don’t claim,” said Luc, scowling. “I am the heir of Tosa.”
“Regardless,” said Jad, waving a hand. “The Lord of Tosa announced last night that his only son was assassinated. The borders of Tosa have been closed to all outsiders.”
“Wait…what?” Luc’s head was spinning. My father thinks I was assassinated?
Jad continued. “The border of Tosa is far - all the way across the Green River. Without money or connections, it will be nigh impossible to make it into the territory.”
Luc narrowed his eyes. “Why should I believe you, peasant? Just because you bought me some food doesn’t mean you and I are on good terms.”
“Speak to anyone,” said Jad. “News travels fast.”
Luc was reminded that even Val had been talking about how the heir of Tosa was dead. If that was the case, his father wouldn’t be sending any search parties. He would have to find his own way home. And that was a very tall task for someone who had never been outside of Tosa before.
“You said you had a deal for me?” asked Luc.
Jad leaned in, lowering his voice. “If you lead me to where the tomb is, I will get you into Tosa.”
Luc frowned. “Didn’t you say that it would be impossible to get into Tosa?”
“I said it would be impossible without money or connections,” said Jad. “But fortunately for you, I have both of those.”
Luc tapped his chin and thought for a moment. “So all I do is show you were the tomb is? And you’ll take me back to Tosa?”
“You will have to wait for my team to finish excavating,” said Jad. “That should take around two weeks. During that time, I will pay for you to stay at this inn. As soon as we are done with our business in the tomb, I will take you to Tosa. Are those terms sufficient for you?”
Luc watched Jad from across the table. If they had been gambling, Luc reckoned it would’ve been quite difficult for him to win. Jad’s face was completely expressionless, blank from all emotions. After the debacle with Ryko and Mina, Luc was a little hesitant to take the deal. But considering he was in another territory with nothing besides the clothes on his back and a worthless pendant, his best shot at getting home was another high-risk high reward gamble. The last one worked out okay. Maybe I’m on a lucky streak!
“Okay,” said Luc, taking a deep breath. “Let’s do it.”
Jad’s expressionless face split into a wide smile, revealing crooked yellow teeth. “I am extremely pleased to be working with you.”
Luc forced a smile onto his face, praying that he hadn’t made yet another foolish decision.
“By the way,” said Jad. “I will not ask you why you insist on traveling to Tosa. Your business is yours and my business is mine. But if I were you, I would consider a different alibi than a man of Tosa. The people of Tosa have black hair and brown eyes. You do not fit the look at all.”
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What? Luc’s face twisted with confusion. I definitely have black hair and brown eyes!
As Jad stood up from the table, Luc grabbed the knife he used he used for cutting the steak. Tilting the blade to catch some light, Luc could make out his reflection on the knife. What in tarnation?
First of all, Luc noted that he looked a mess – he had dirt and grime smudging most of his face. His hair was tousled and messy, and there were dark half circles under his eyes. But that was to be expected after spending a night in the torturous tomb. What surprised him the most was the color of his hair and eyes. His hair, normally pitch black, had been bleached pure white. His eyes, originally the light hazel shade of the people of Tosa, were now much lighter than before, taking on a shade of dark yellow.
This must be a result of the curse, thought Luc, pit growing in his stomach. There’s no way anyone in Tosa is going to recognize me like this…
Luc’s eyes widened. He reached up and fumbled at the lobe of his left ear. Upon feeling the golden dragon that hung from a small loop in his ear, he relaxed. If I show Mother’s earring to Father, he will recognize me.
“Boy,” said Jad, interrupting Luc’s thoughts.
Luc opened his mouth, getting ready to chastise Jad for calling him ‘boy’.
“We will begin excavation first thing tomorrow morning,” said Jad, cutting him off. “As promised, I will pay for you to stay at this inn. Would you like to go to your room?”
Luc glanced back down at the knife, grimacing at the dirtiness of his face.
“Maybe a bath first?” asked Jad, reading Luc’s mind.
Luc set the knife down on the table. “Bath first.”
-
Early the next morning, Luc walked down the dirt path through the cornfields once again, this time leading Jad and his three wagons. It turned out that the wagons Luc had seen parked next to the Happy Farmer Inn belonged to Jad. The wagons were tall, each rising about ten feet off the ground and pulled by two horses. While they remained entirely shrouded in white cloth, Luc had heard the clinking of metal within each one. Luc didn’t bother asking what was in them. As Jad had said the day before, it wasn’t Luc’s business to know what Jad was up to.
After taking a long bath and spending a night in an actual bed, Luc felt much better than yesterday. While the straw mattress and scratchy covers of the Happy Farmer Inn did not come close to the silken sheets and down filled bed he had back home, his utter exhaustion helped him get a good night’s sleep.
“We’re almost there,” Luc told Jad. “We just have to make it to the edge of the forest over there.”
Jad, who walked beside him, stayed silent and scratched his mole. Each of the wagons was driven by a single man. All of the men were dressed in white tunics and black trousers. The weaving of the tunics was not familiar to Luc. Too bad he hadn’t paid enough attention to his tutors to know what territory used that sort of weaving.
It doesn’t matter to me anyways, thought Luc, fanning his face with a hand. After I take these people to the tomb, I’m going straight back to Olfar to get a cold drink and sleep. No way I’m going anywhere close to that cursed trap again.
“We have to cut through the cornfield over here,” said Luc, pointing. “Not sure if the horses will be able to - ”
One of the wagon drivers, a large man that towered a full head over Luc, hopped down from one of the wagons. Along with his towering height, the man’s torso was the size of a barrel, and his upper arms the circumference of small tree trunks. The man reached over his shoulder and drew a long sword, around five feet in length and one foot wide. Taking a deep breath, the giant of a man swung the sword in an arc. As he swung, a sharp gust of wind sliced through the air with the blade, emitting a high-pitched whistle as it traveled. Luc covered his face with his arm, shielding himself from the blast. When the wind died down, Luc looked up.
In front of them, a path wide enough for a single wagon extended through the corn field.
“He has achieved the title {Swordsman of Wind},” said Jad, seeing Luc’s gaping mouth. “This is but a small feat for him.”
Luc was silent as he watched the man lumber back to the wagon and hop back onto the driver’s seat, wood creaking below him. I’ve seen my father’s guards training before, thought Luc. They definitely could not do anything like this.
“What do you and your team do again?” asked Luc, no longer able to resist asking.
“Did I not tell you?” said Jad, picking at his mole. “We are what you would call…Nighthawks.”
Watching as Jad began leading the wagons into the newly carved out path in the cornfield, Luc hoped that he hadn’t made too big of a mistake.