Chapter Three: Useless

Rook felt immense pressure as soon as he entered the tent. He wanted to run away, but there was nowhere to run.

When Rhaeger would get angry with him, it was usually easy to avoid him by hiding somewhere on the ranch until the old rancher got tired. When he had been very young, Rook had feared the beatings he would get on a regular basis, but now, he was tough enough to take the punches and kicks of the old drunkard in stride.

Now, for the first time in years, Rook felt real, immediate fear. This woman was dangerous. He could tell from how she moved and how she spoke. She was more like the wild dogs that would show up from time to time at the ranch. Her eyes followed him like a predator, sizing up prey. She was staring at him now like a wolf regards a mouse.

“I can’t believe you gave up a whole skill stone, and all you got was this scrawny little twig. For that much, you should have at least gotten something useful.”

Thayn sighed and retorted in a tired voice.

“We had no time. I wasn’t going to sit in that mudhole for days, trying to squeeze juice from a raisin. We got the bubals, and we needed a porter.”

“How did Willis take it? He must have howled. Now he won’t be the prettiest one in camp anymore,” she said, then laughed a laugh that was more like the barking of a dog.

“Willis will be fine. He’s young and stupid, but there are only two types of mercenaries, right? Young and stupid, and-“

“-Old and toothless,” Presia finished the saying. “You still retiring after this run, old man?”

Thayn stared into nowhere for a few moments, then answered.

“Aye. I’m done. After that last mess…”

“Those fools deserve what they got.”

“Those fools cost use nearly everything. Half the party dead, and we nearly lost all of the cargo, too. If that happened, then I wouldn’t be looking at retirement. We’d all be facing the executioner-“

He stopped as Presia shot him an angry, sharp glare. Then his eyes darted to the boy standing by the door.

After taking a moment to collect himself, Thayn continued.

“Anyway, we have what we need now. We can finish this job, and after that, I’m gonna find a nice bar and drink myself to death like a proper mercenary.”

“Fine. You take care of this… boy. Keep him away from the others. I don’t need more problems. I expect the camp and gear packed up and ready to depart at sunrise.”

With that dismissal, Thayn exited the tent, roughly pushing Rook ahead of him.

“I don’t know if your silence is a blessing or just a sign of your lack of a brain. Listen boy, best you stay out of everyone’s way here. Especially the boss. She’s as likely to cut you down as knock you over if you put even one boot in her path. Come, let’s get something to eat, then you need to get to work.”

Thayn led Rook to the center of the camp near the fire. There was a large barrel and a table. The other three mercenaries were standing there whispering to each other, but they stopped talking as the old man approached.

“Gred, find something to eat for our new porter. Boys, this is Rook.”

“The new Kest? Scrawny little thing, ain’t he? Can he even carry a bucket of shite?”

“Be glad with what we got. The other one was even smaller. Willis, you fill up the water yet?”

Willis glared at Thayn with fire in his eyes.

“We just got here. Can’t I even take a mom-“

“Get your work done, and then you can rest. We have limited daylight. Boys, we need to be ready to move at sunrise tomorrow. You know what needs to be done. So get to it! Gred. Food!”

One of the men, the tall one, moved swiftly to the table and rummaged through a large wooden box on top of it. He pulled out a small loaf of hard bread and tossed it to Willis. Then he threw him a couple of small sticks of dried meat. Next, after rummaging again in the box, he walked over to Thayn and Rook. He handed the old man a larger loaf and another couple of sticks of meat. Finally, he tossed a small loaf to Rook, who barely managed to catch it.

Rook noticed the smirk of the man’s face momentarily, but was immediately distracted by the sound of water pouring into the bucket.

He goggled as he saw something he had never seen before. Willis was holding out his hands toward the barrel, and water was pouring out of thin air into the receptacle, filling it up in seconds. Willis was a magic user.

Sometimes, Rhaegun would boast to him that he had seen magic in the village. Skill holders were rare, Rhaegun would explain with an air of superiority. Pig would always be entranced by the stories of magic, and Rook was admittedly fascinated by descriptions of it as well.

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It sounded fantastical. People who could make water or fire appear from nothing. People who could fly like birds, or kill a man with a thought. But you had to be born with the power. A power that came from the blood. No one in the village had it, but Rhaegun would still boast about going to one of the big cities someday to learn it.

Rook remembered one day when Rhaeger heard his son bragging about his plans, and before anyone could react, Rhaegun was knocked against the wall.

“Shut yer mouth! Don’t be talkin nonsense like that ever! If’n a skill holders ever hears ya say that, yul be chopped to bits fore yeh can blink. Damned fool boy!”

All that Rook ever learned about magic was that those who possessed it were rare, very powerful, and to be feared. Now, he watched in awe as the man who had been leading him for the past few days was a magician. He shuddered in fear, recalling how Willis looked at him.

“Make sure to fill the troughs for the animals. They need to be ready to travel,” Thayn barked.

Rook noticed the veins on the younger man’s neck pulse and his jaw tighten, but he said nothing, only nodded in response.

“You, Rook. Come with me,” Thayn ordered, then walked back toward where the animals were tied up at the edge of the camp.

As they approached the trees, Rook looked into the forest with apprehension, worried that some wild animal would leap out at any moment.

The old man seemed to read his thoughts.

“Don’t worry. The camp is warded. No pests should come anywhere near us, and anything bigger than that will set off the sentry alert. You’re safe here…”

His words trailed off at the end, leading Rook to doubt their reliability. Still, he had no choice, so he followed the man until they stood near where they had tied up the animals when they had arrived.

“Alright. Eat up. Then we need to load up the gear.” As Thayn spoke, he handed Rook one of the sticks of meat and then took a large bite out of his own loaf of bread.

Rook looked at the meat in shock. He almost never got real meat. Even dried stick rations like this, eaten mostly by travelers, or villagers late in winter were a rare sight. Pig and he ate only what was left over by the house, and they hardly ever had meat, and if they did, they never left even a bit behind.

The treat in his hands now was something he would see Rhaegun sometimes gnaw on when he received a special treat for the holidays and wanted to show off. The ranchers son would talk about how delicious meat was and then eat it all in front of Rook and Pig. It really didn’t bother Rook much, who had never eaten any himself, though he was, of course, curious about what it actually tasted like.

Now, there was a piece in his hands that was apparently for him. Still, he didn’t trust that the man wouldn’t accuse him of stealing it as soon as he took a bite, so instead of tearing into the meat, he took a bite of the bread.

Even the bread was better than the old, moldy ones they had at the ranch. It must be newer. They only got fresh bread twice a season, and this bread was softer, like the new rolls.

As good as the bread was, Rook did miss the milk that they usually had in good supply at the ranch. He was used to drinking a bowl or two every day, and it had been days since his last one. Thinking about it, Rook started to feel a bit homesick. The pile of hay in the stable, the meager breakfast and the bean and grain porridge he had for supper wasn’t much, but it was consistent and safe. Now he was forced to sleep on the cold ground, or huddled against the bubals for warmth. He ate even more simple meals of hard bread and water, and feared constantly, an attack from wild animals or even his own company.

As he ate the bread, he slid the stick of meat into his trousers pocket. If the old man demanded it back, he could produce it immediately, but if not… maybe he could try it while everyone was sleeping. Maybe they would forget he had it.

Thayn noticed the movement and looked at the boy with concern, propping up an eyebrow.

“Oi! Did you just stick that in your pocket? What are you…”

As Rook fumbled in panic and quickly held out the jerky, Thayn realized what was the cause of the boy’s strange behavior. No thief would stick something valuable in a pocket. He wouldn’t have been surprised if the meat had disappeared into the boy’s soul space, but to try hiding it in his pocket?

“You… are you telling me that… Rook! What’s in your soul space? What are you carrying now?”

Rook flinched as the color drained from his face. Instinctively, he held out both hands, palm up. In one hand, three small brownish coins appeared.

“Is… is that it?”

Panic appeared on Rook’s face.

“I… I… I’m sorry. I should have… I didn’t mean to keep them. I was going to… But… I didn’t… s… sorry…”

“Dirty little coin bondling!”

Willis had appeared behind them, he spat onto the ground and glared at Rook with pure contempt.

“That friend of yours is a piece of work. Harvesting coins off his bondlings like that.”

“He’s no friend of mine. I should have known. It’s more common out here in the wilds.”

Rook kept his face down, waiting for the inevitable. Preparing his stomach for the pain.

“What’s he doing?” Willis growled in irritation.

“He’s… waiting, I think. Rook. Is that everything?”

“Yes, sir! I swear!” The boys fear and desperation clear in his voice as he nodded his head, still keeping his face pointed at the ground and eyes tightly shut.

“He’s useless. How can a coin bondling be a porter?” Willis scoffed.

“Shut it. Go water the animals and leave us be. I’ll deal with this.”

“Fine. Great purchase, you old fool, Presia’s gonna feed him to the campfire when she finds out,” Willis muttered and turned away to fill the troughs with water before heading back to the center of the camp.

“Boy. Rook! Enough. Look at me.”

Rook ignore the words, waiting for the expected assault. He knew what was coming. The purge stick. He was used to it, and had learned how to keep from vomiting or soiling himself. He needed to tense his body and hold his breath.

But the pain didn’t come. Rook didn’t dare open his eyes. Didn’t dare look up. Still, he couldn’t hold his breath forever. Soon he gave up and slowly let the air escape his lungs, the sucked in a fresh breath and waited.

He waited for the purge stick to touch his skin, to force his soul space to be forcefully empty. But the touch never came. Eventually, Rook opened one eye and stole a glance up. The old man was sitting on a large boulder, several steps away, not even looking at him anymore.

Thayn turned and looked at the young man with pity. He had seen them before, although never one so old. Usually they were treated so poorly they didn’t survive long. Children kept simply to harvest their daily coins. Humans who were subjected to the touch of a purge stick like an animal, just for a single lowly coin.

He had to give Rhaeger a bit of credit. Despite being a monster, he must have cared for this boy well enough that he had survived this long. He didn’t know whether he should praise that drunkard, or beat him to death the next time he saw him. Perhaps he would do both, Thayn thought to himself.

For now, he had bigger problems. He had hired a porter who had never carried things in his soul space. One who had been trained to even fear carrying anything in his own soul. When Presia found out, she might actually abandon the boy. Thayn cursed silently. That damned Rhaeger, he thought to himself.