~ : : The Price of Venison : : ~
Don't own Fire Emblem, Matthew, Guy, etc. Finally learned that Guy, like Rath, is of the Kutolah tribe. Quite a lot of people wanted me to continue - thank you all, the number of reviews shocked me - and I happened to be back in school and bored out of my socks, so I did.
Apologies: Matt's cloak is red, not brown. *whacks self with Random Frying Pan* @.@ Here's the next installment!
* * * * *
The next morning he was still alive.
He woke to the sound of dead leaves crunching underfoot - the man from yesterday yanked the red cloak off of him and brought it up to his own nose, sniffing experimentally. A grimace crossed his face. "Up with you! There's a stream further along the edge of the trees you can wash in. I mean, not to be ruder than I already am or anything, but you do smell."
Guy nodded wordlessly and pushed himself up, then nearly fell over again when he realized he actually had the strength to stand. "Thank you."
The man raised an eyebrow. "You're welcome. I'm Matthew. You are...?"
"Guy. Guy of the Kutolah."
Matthew scanned him up and down, then seemed to notice something for the first time. "You carry a sword?!?" he said incredulously. "But you look so young!"
Guy drew himself up haughtily, not that it made him any taller. "I'm seventeen summers. I know not how it is in Lycia, but I have been studying swordsmanship since I was a child. And I'm going to become the greatest swordsman in all of Sacae."
"Well, no need to get all offended! You don't look seventeen," Matthew muttered. "Now go wash. Here." He tossed something soft at Guy. The Sacaean caught it out of reflex - a tunic and a pair of breeches. "And after, I've got something I'd like you to sign."
* * * * *
Matthew watched Guy disappear into the trees. Chuckling to himself, he re-read the paper he'd written out prior to waking his guest.
In exchange for four pieces of meat and thus my life, I admit to being indebted to Matthew of Ostia, and hereby vow to return the favor four times over.
All he had to do was get the Sacaean to sign it - which Guy would, having already offered up everything he had. Those people were too easy to take advantage of, with their obscure codes of honor and righteousness.
Bwah.
Well, it would work unless Guy didn't know how to write. Heh. That would be ironic, to say the least.
Matthew made a mental note that Guy also owed him for the clothes. And if he stayed, it would be breakfast too. The thief only had a loaf of extremely stale bread, but it was still food. He rummaged in his cluttered bag and eventually found it, wrinkled his nose distastefully, and set about hacking it to pieces with his knife.
Guy's return was heralded by the snapping of a dead twig and more crunching. Matthew swiveled his head around to take a look - funny how much a difference cleanliness could make. Guy's nose and cheeks were slightly pink from too much scrubbing, but that face would obviously in the future turn him into a girl magnet. Matthew had been right about the color of his hair - though darkened from the wash and dripping water, it was still an obvious shade of green. The tunic was slightly too big on such a narrow frame, and the breeches too long, but at least he wasn't garbed in rags anymore.
The Sacaean shifted nervously under his gaze. Cutting the silence, he suddenly brought himself to say, "How far is it to Pherae from here?"
"Leaving so soon?" the thief shot back.
"I...I don't want to bother you any more than I must." Guy's eyes were pulled inexorably towards the loaf of bread that Matthew still held in his hands. "You saved my life. I am in your debt."
"Speaking of debt...can you write?" Matthew said from around a mouthful of bread.
Guy looked at him as if he were crazy. "Of course."
"Well..." Matthew held out a quill and the oathpaper. "Can you sign that, then?" The Sacaean's dark eyes scanned the paper. At his skeptical expression, Matthew shrugged and made as if to take it back. "It's only fair." His eyes glinted craftily. "Plus...you can have breakfast if you do."
Guy looked from Matthew to the bread and back again. "Oh, fine." He grabbed the quill and parchment, hastily scribbling his name and tribe. "There."
Matthew folded the paper into quarters without waiting for the ink to dry and stuffed it back into some deep fold of his cloak. "You can have two pieces, but no more. I'm saving the rest for the road."
Guy paused, bread halfway to his mouth. "Where are you going?"
Matthew stretched, cracking the vertebrae of his back. "Back to Ostia by way of Caelin. Pherae's in the opposite direction. It'll take a few weeks for you to get there, though."
The youth frowned, hand sliding to the hilt of his sword. "Aren't there spies in Ostia everywhere these days?"
"Yup." Matthew tucked the remainder of the loaf back into his sack and stood up, swinging it over one shoulder. "Caelin's main city is just across the plains," he said, pointing. "Care to join me?"
* * [End] * *
