The mayor had round cheeks and a well-fed build. His moustache ate half his face so there was no discernable upper lip. He often spoke with his mouth full, especially when boasting.

Rusk chewed his bit of lamb. Tasted as lamb should underneath all the spice, but there was a film that coated Rusk’s throat whenever he swallowed a morsel. He was trying to figure out if he liked the tang of the sauce or hated it.

“So I hear you’ve done away with that Sanctuary Hero,” said the mayor.

Rusk swallowed. More slimy residue plastered itself down his esophagus. He swallowed again. That made it worse.

“That’s right,” said Loretta from her place between the two of them. They sat at a very long table, the longest Rusk had ever seen, with the mayor on one short end and Rusk on the other. Loretta was in one of the many chairs in between, stuck leaning very far to talk to either of them. A servant in red robes refilled her drink.

Rusk couldn’t imagine being waited on in such a manner every day of his life, but he supposed Loretta and her father must be used to it with the way they summoned and dismissed their help at every whim.

“We’ll see no more of Sir Greil.” Loretta’s voice hitched haughtily in emphasis. “With any luck.”

Rusk chewed more lamb. He wondered why Loretta hadn’t ever touched her plate of food. Perhaps it was poisoned. He’d know soon enough. He hadn’t been in any position to turn it down, seeing as it was free. Well, free if you didn’t count the price of the conversation.

The servant in red came to refill Rusk’s drink.

“Uh, thanks.”

The servant chuckled. He was a tad older than Rusk and had vibrant blue eyes, wispy pale hair. “No need to thank someone for playing their part.”

“Right.” Rusk gave the servant a meek little raise of his goblet, and then wondered where the urge to toast had come from.

“To better luck!” said the mayor, misinterpreting Rusk’s gesture. It hadn’t been meant for him, but he acted as if everything was directed his way, so it came as no surprise to anyone when he indulged in it. “Cheers!”

Loretta raised her goblet politely.

“Cheers?” said Rusk, casting an arched eyebrow the servant’s way.

The servant lowered his head in a slight bow with a silent amused smile.

They all drank.

Rusk wiped his mouth. When he looked at where the servant had been standing off to the side, he realized the servant was gone. And missed his silent company.

Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.

“So if you’re the mayor then how come your daughter knows nothing of the king?” asked Rusk nonchalantly.

The mayor flinched.

“Delicious meat,” said Loretta. “Let us give thanks for the meal.”

“Yes, let us thank our good fortunes.” The mayor lowered his head as if in prayer and mumbled something unintelligible.

That wasn’t suspicious or anything.

But Rusk was eating for free, so he obliged. He prayed to the Elva, because he’d known no other deities in his time. Or at least none he trusted with his luck, good or bad or otherwise.

When dinner was over, Rusk was assigned to a room and expected to sit idle until morning. He snuck out to snoop around town instead.

“You ever hear of a guy named Greil?” he asked the local barmaid. It was amazing. No matter how small or large a settlement was, with the exception of his home forest territory, a bar was always a feature. It almost made the rest of the world seem like it fit together into some grand scheme. A scheme of alcoholics and brawls. Rusk liked the atmosphere in this one, though. Somber, but lit romantically. It felt fitting to him, after what he’d done to his mentor. “I’m passing through and we happened to meet along the road.”

“The Bad Luck Hero?” said the barmaid as she scrubbed clean a glass that had previously contained whiskey. “Sure, I’ve heard of him. I’ve never met him though. Supposedly he screwed over the mayor’s daughter but the details get all mixed together depending on who you ask. Some say she just has it out for him for no reason, but most everyone else blames it on the Heroes’ Luck.”

“Okay what is it with bad luck and heroes?” asked Rusk, not for the first time on his journey. “Everyone keeps saying they have bad luck but no one can provide any actual examples whenever I ask.”

The barmaid shrugged with a placating smile, the kind that a parent might give a kid who was asking too soon about where babies came from, and then wandered to tend to another customer.

“Maybe it’s me,” Rusk grumbled into his drink. He’d only ordered water. Because it was free and dehydration sucked so he never saw the point in alcohol. All it did was make him woozy. He rarely touched the stuff after his first time, which had once again been part of the journey so far with Greil. The man had bought Rusk his first drink. “Maybe I don’t look the part. Or act the part. Or maybe people are all morons.”

“Who’s a moron?” asked Loretta, who had miraculously found him at the bar. Apparently she’d snuck out of the mayor’s manor as well.

Rusk jumped and nearly spilled his water. He righted the glass with quick reflexes that made Loretta raise an eyebrow.

“Nice catch,” she said.

“What are you doing here? You’re not come to drag me back, are you? I appreciate the room I got and everything it’s just—”

“My father doesn’t know I’m here. No need to be so frazzled.”

“I’m not frazzled, who’s frazzled?”

Loretta raised her eyebrows at him.

Rusk cleared his throat. “I’m not drunk either. See. Water.”

“Right. Well. I figured I’d let you in on a little secret since my father’s never going to reveal it.” Loretta swung down gracefully into a stool next to Rusk. “The reason I don’t know anything about the king is my father wants to overthrow him.”

“Wouldn’t that imply you know more about the king than most people,” said Rusk skeptically.

“It implies my father is really stupid about where he leaves his resources, and I’m a lovely actress.”

“Uh huh.”

“So my father wants to overthrow the king. Ah. Nice to say that out loud. I have to hold my tongue around the more respectable parts of town.”

“And he’s going to do this by doing what exactly?” asked Rusk, equally skeptically.

“By being in cahoots with Heroes of course. Why do you think he asked you to stay?”

“I thought you convinced him of that.”

Loretta laughed. “Oh no. I can’t convince my father, Honorable Mayor of this Lovely Town, of anything. He did that on his own. You were travelling with Greil, so the assumption was there. You two had to know each other.”

“Right.”

“So. Do you really wanna be a hero?”

“Yes.”

“Bet you’d like to know about that famous heroes’ bad luck then.”