When I opened my eyes the next morning, the first thing I saw was a pile of embers and ash that had once been a campfire. There was sunlight coming in from somewhere, and the sound of singing birds. My limbs felt a little sore…
Then my brain got itself into gear as the last mists of sleep were burned away. I remembered where I was and how I had gotten there. I also realized, with a start, that I was alone.
I sat up and looked around the cave. There was no sign of Jack. He must have left, I thought to myself. I made him upset by making him talk about…I tried to calm myself. I had been alone in the wilderness before many times in the past. It wasn't anything to panic over.
But that wasn't the problem. The problem was that I felt ashamed of myself. He'd helped me out of a dangerous situation; I'd repaid him by making him remember something painful. And by doing so, I'd lost an acquaintance who might have become a friend. I would probably never see him again. It made me feel sick inside.
Well, the only thing I could do now was move on. I rubbed the sleep from my eyes, combed my hair with my fingers and collected my things. I put on my boots, belt, cloak and quiver; I stamped out the last embers of the fire and went to the entrance of the cave. I planned to wash my face and refill my waterskin in the stream – then I would find the road and after that, well, I'd just take things as they came. That's the story of my life, taking things as they come.
My plans changed the moment I exited the cave, for I saw that Jack hadn't left me after all. He was in a small clearing across the stream, sword in hand. It looked like he was practicing sword forms, but they were much different from any moves I had ever seen. I considered calling out to him, since he hadn't noticed me, but I decided against it. Instead, I watched.
The blade of his sword was an impossibly thin ribbon of what looked like high-quality steel. From its shape – and the kind of moves Jack was practicing – I could tell that it was designed for slashing. The metal flashed and winked in the sun as Jack raised the sword over his head, then snapped it down as if he were slicing an invisible foe. It was such an elegant thing that I could hardly believe it was a weapon.
The sword's owner moved back and forth across the field with fluid grace; it didn't look like combat practice at all, really, but more like a dance. In my mind, I could not associate this – not the sword, not the movements – with any kind of fighting. I should have known better. After all, I knew that Jack could fight, even if I hadn't seen him use that sword before.
He turned so that he had his back to me, and raised the sword in a blocking motion. I think he saw me reflected in the blade then, because he stopped and turned around toward me, looking a little surprised. "Good morning, Ketiya," he called. "I did not notice you there." He slid the blade into its scabbard and bowed in my direction. I smiled – he wasn't that upset with me after all. I returned his bow.
"Good morning to you too." I walked forward, toward the stream. "You keep surprising me. Anyone else would have woken me up." I wasn't going to talk about the conversation – or whatever it was – of the night before. If he wasn't going to bring it up, then neither was I. It was better that way.
"I apologize. I thought it would be better to let you rest."
"I didn't mean intentionally wake me," I clarified. I take great pride in my perceptive abilities. Even the stealthiest of footpads have a hard time catching me unawares. A large number of individuals who once thought otherwise have been unpleasantly (read: fatally) surprised. "Thanks for letting me sleep, though. I appreciate it. I've put out the fire already, so once I've filled my waterskin we can find our way back to what passes for civilization around here – if that's okay with you, I mean."
Jack just nodded. I knelt at the stream, washed my face and filled my waterskin. When that was done I hopped to the opposite bank where my friend stood, and we set off into the trees.
~***~
We found some berries to eat an hour later, and the road at about noon. It was a wide, dusty track with a ditch running along each side. A road of this sort meant that a town was not far away – maybe we would have decent food and a real bed to sleep in tonight.
But I take to heart that saying about chickens, eggs and counting. The roads in these parts were dangerous. I got out my bow and fitted an arrow, ready to shoot if something unpleasant showed up. "Bandits around here," I explained to Jack. "Just be prepared for nasty surprises."
"I always am," he told me. I thought at first that this was some sign of a sense of humor, but I on further reflection I realized that it probably wasn't.
I tried to start up a conversation as we journeyed along the road, but after a while I gave it up. My companion did not seem inclined to talk. This made me uneasy – perhaps he was still upset about last night. I had not wanted to talk about it, but…maybe it was necessary.
"Look. If you're still unhappy with me about…"
"Wait," he interrupted in a near-whisper. "Did you hear that?"
I listened carefully. I could hear the rustling of leaves, but there was no wind to move them. It might have been an animal, but still…
It wasn't. "Your money or your life!" Six nasty-looking individuals in studded leather armor jumped out of the trees. They were all armed with sharp objects, but I saw no ranged weapons. Three of them were blocking the road in front of us, and three behind.
They were in for a nasty surprise. With a smile, I raised my bow and prepared to fire. Behind me, I heard Jack draw his sword.
~***~
The fight was over in three minutes. Two of the bandits had bolted; the other four were dead. I had shot two, Jack had decapitated one, and the last…I'm not sure what Jack did to him. The brigand's corpse was caught in the branches of a tree.
Jack cleaned his sword on the clothes of the decapitated bandit, while I tried to retrieve my arrows from the ones I had killed. It was somewhat difficult – with a good bow behind them, arrows with red crystal heads can pierce almost anything: But once they've done the actual piercing it can be almost impossible to dislodge them. I managed to get one out, while Jack got the other one.
"You are an exceptional archer," he complimented as he handed me the arrow. I was surprised and more than a little flattered.
"Thanks. And you're a better-than-exceptional swordsman. I mean it." It was the best praise I could come up with, but it was also a major understatement.
He seemed satisfied, though. "Thank you."
I went to one of the corpses and knelt by it, intending to search it for money or valuables. I realized that Jack was giving me a funny look. I turned around. "What is it?"
"You are looting them?" Something was bothering him.
"Of course. We'll split it fifty-fifty, naturally." I found a money purse on the corpse and opened it. There were silver coins inside – not bad pickings at all.
He put his hand on my forearm, gripping it so hard that it almost hurt. "No. It is not right."
I glared at him, but to no effect. "They tried to rob us. Considering the circumstances, I think it's justified. Anyway, dead people don't need money."
"That does not make it right," he argued. "I will not take anything from a corpse. Neither should you." I wondered what I ought to do. I really wanted the money, but I didn't want Jack to think badly of me. I was surprised at myself – it had been many years since another person's opinion of me had seemed so important. If it came down to a choice between them…well, perhaps I could make a compromise.
"I don't know about you, but I never know what's coming next," I explained to him. "I might not be able to get any other money for a while. I don't steal things or kill people for their money, because I do have some sense of ethics, but I take what I can get." His grip on my arm loosened a little. "Look. I'll get the money from the two I killed. You can take or leave the others. But I suggest that you do the smart thing, because you'll probably regret it later if you don't."
He considered this for a few moments, then took his hand off my arm and stood up He said nothing at all, but I didn't like the look he was giving me. He didn't object when I looted the corpses of the two bandits I had shot, but he did not take the money from the other two bodies either.
I didn't press him about it. We walked on in silence, leaving the scene of the battle behind us.
I had told him that he would regret it if he didn't take his share of the money from the bandits. But it was I who suffered regrets – yet again, it seemed, I had broken the camaraderie that had been developing between us.