The Watch

The streets were dark and empty near the docks, save for the five young men lurking at the door of a massive storage house. “It's always bloody Beunir. Not Beun, not even Ben, but always bloody 'young Beunir'. She insists that adults don't use shortened names.” Beun scowled, toying with the club in his hands. Todd shrugged. “I personally like the hair best. You're like a prince's lackey.” Beun immediately pulled his hand up to smooth it down and pull the small tied back tuft from underneath the collar of his shirt. “It's the ear. Warg doesn't say she minds, but every time she catches a glimpse of it, she turns silent. She doesn't like to be reminded of what she took in.” Even in the dim light, Todd could see the flash of shame in his friend's green eyes.  Todd searched for something, anything, to get his thoughts elsewhere. “If the sight of my ears could silence that woman for a single moment, I'd shear my head like a sheep.”

The younger boys glanced at them nervously as Beun broke into laughter. They did not know why they were in guard for. Todd didn't know the details, either, of course, but he understood what the nature of their work was. They were not there to stop anyone from getting in or getting out. Nobody would bother trying, a rabble like that would surely attract attention. They were there as a sign, a message towards whoever they were or whatever they were after: Brior Hammon had been expecting them. Their task was to sit there, with weapons at hand and clearly visible, looking eager to use them. Anyone wanting to go undetected would turn on their heels, cursing all the way. Casual conversation was a part of the game.

“Impeccable with money... The next thing I know Scoot is drinking with Rust-tongue.”  Beun burst into a new fit of laughter. If there was one person Scoot hated, it would be Rust-tongue. Besides the stray children, there were several people in Brethage – and perhaps other cities as well – who made their meagre living delivering messages between people for a small fee. Rust-tongue had a reputation of accepting false messages, or selling them to a higher bidder. Nobody knew  his real name any more, but it was supposed not even his own mother called him by it any more. The messenger was a snotty, insolent creature who wouldn't go out of his way to avoid angering people, but if there was one person he feared, it was Scoot.

“I'd like to see that... And I don't even know what she goes on about. I just see some little thing that doesn't make sense to me, and ask her why she can't level something the other way or buy a whole crate for stock instead of one or two, and she looks at me like I just admitted that I was sired by a god.” Beun shook his head, glancing around the empty street as well as the other three boys. Todd shrugged, awkwardly fixing at the sword at his belt. He had never touched a sword before, and he did not understand why the Brotherhood House had one, but someone at some point had decided it was a weapon fit for a northman. He wondered who had decided that Beun could use a club.

“I never quite took you for a merchant”, Todd said, and Beun raised an eyebrow. Todd had never figured out how he managed to do it without moving the other one. “Really? How strange. I've always taken you for a thug.” Todd laughed, kicking his ankle with his good leg. It felt good to be back in Brethage, sitting in the street like in the old days, when things were simpler, nobody was plotting to kill him, and the worst thing that could have happened was getting caught sneaking out of the house. Back when Dantel and Harom were alive, and he had had no future to worry about.

“Why didn't Hiram come?” The question passed his lips as soon as it crossed his mind. Beun shrugged. “He has other work. And I don't think Hammon wants to involve him in...” He glanced at the club with an unreadable look on his face. Todd frowned. “Is he all right?” These kinds of jobs were supposed to be safe. Beun chuckled. “Depends on how you define that. Jedda's having him eat gelding's leaf.” Todd grimaced. Out of all the ways there were to avoid children, the only downside gelding's leaf had was the absolutely foul taste. It would take someone like Hiram to stomach it. “I thought I saw her in his shirt.” Beun nodded. “Why do you care, anyway?” Todd laughed. “Am I not allowed to care for your ugly pet?” Beun did not understand why he would care for Hiram. Was he not allowed to have other friends? Beun scratched at his neck, looking somewhere away.

“Speaking of ugly pets.. What's this new bloke?” Todd grit his teeth. This Parlan, a limp, skittish creature that reminded him of something, but he could never put his finger on what, exactly. He shrugged. “He's from the Royal City, apparently. Bloody coward and a whiner, by the looks of it. Hammon seems to trust him.” One of the younger boys stood up. “I think there's somebody there.” Todd and Beun fell as silent as the three who had been giving them stern looks, all five staring at the same direction.

The moment passed, and nobody emerged. “I saw someone, I swear”, the boy tried explaining with an embarrassed frown, fingering the hilt of the small dagger at his belt. Half-elves all looked different, some could hardly been told apart from full humans, but this one, whose name Todd could not say, looked as much like a full elf as he thought possible without having ever seen one. He seemed relieved when Todd nodded in approval to him. He and Beun were not much older than the boys of the Brotherhood House, but still enough for them to see the two as adult men, someone whose experience and judgement should be respected. Gradually, they all relaxed again. This would be a safe job, all they needed to do was to stay there, as a message, a note left by the Brotherhood. Whatever the note read, Todd admitted he did not have the faintest clue.

None of them saw anyone before sunrise. Aiden unfastened the sword, it was a heavy, ugly thing and he did not think he could unsheathe it if he tried. He yawned. Brior Hammon would not have risked losing him. He might still be valuable.