Almost nothing happens here in this chapter, but it's rather vital to have. I dun own Tortall or Corus…But I do own my Rogue and Nolan, but maybe I don't? Well, just don't sue me.
The Rogue
My eyes widen, and I simply stayed where I was, cowering while I sat on the ground.
"Wha- What do you mean? I just walked up and took it!" I explained, eyebrows knitting together in worry. What was this man getting at? Who was he? Should I have told him that? Questions ran their way through my mind as I tried to figure who may possibly want to know or care how I stole such a grand chicken.
"Mm-hm," murmured the man as he stood up, pacing around me, looking me over as you would look over a horse foal, judging me right down to the dark ebony color of my hair.
"You're coming with me," he finally stated gruffly, grabbing me by the arm and hauling me off.
Once again, I clung to the meal that I had - rightfully? - stolen, the still-warm vegetables squishing themselves against my chest, where I hugged the bag.
"I didn' mean t'! I was jus' hungry an' it was sittin' there an'.." I once again pleaded as we entered the backroom of what must have been some tavern. I was tossed into another chair, but this time at a table. The man pushed his shadowy hood back from his face, revealing that he was younger than he seemed, with roughly trimmed brown hair and hints of a beard at his chin. He banged a fist to the table and I jumped out of my chair.
"Trego! Get me some ale," he shouted and looked me over, "An a mug a' juice!"
Within moments a man appeared with the mugs and set them on the table.The man across from me toyed with his mug for a moment while I hesitantly picked up mine. After sniffing it ever slightly I took a sip.
"Now, boy," said the man, smirking with a crooked smirk, "What's yer name? Y' got parents? And why don'tcha get out that handsome supper o' yours."
Realizing he meant the stolen chicken, I dumped the contents of the bag on the table, breaking off a leg for myself while I watched him with wide eyes. "Nolan," I answered at a near whisper,"I don' got no parents, sir."
The man nodded thoughtfully as a spun a knife from seemingly of nowhere, slicing up some of the chicken and taking a piece, stabbing a potato for himself, too. "Good. You familiar with the court of the Rogue?"
I was confused. Again. The rogue? I was but eleven years old, orphaned since I could take an apple from a cart. "No sir," I answered again, gnawing the leg, already barely any meat on the bone.
The man took a large bite of the potato as he talked, "Well. We thieves live by th' dishonest ways of the street. We have a court. We're headed by The Rogue. He…takes special intrest in the street rats."
Assuming I was a street rat, I simply nodded, listening while he talked.
"Always said they had the most talent, since they know the ups an' downs of the streets," He toyed with his knife, turning it around in his hand, admiring the blade, "An we each take one on as our apprentice. You are to be mine."
Now being on the streets for so many years, living in filth with the drunkards and druggies, I had no idea what such apprenticeship entailed. But, for now, I had a meal, a near-full belly, and a promised bed to sleep in. Should such arrangements not be to my wishings, I figure I could escape in the morning.
The Rogue
My eyes widen, and I simply stayed where I was, cowering while I sat on the ground.
"Wha- What do you mean? I just walked up and took it!" I explained, eyebrows knitting together in worry. What was this man getting at? Who was he? Should I have told him that? Questions ran their way through my mind as I tried to figure who may possibly want to know or care how I stole such a grand chicken.
"Mm-hm," murmured the man as he stood up, pacing around me, looking me over as you would look over a horse foal, judging me right down to the dark ebony color of my hair.
"You're coming with me," he finally stated gruffly, grabbing me by the arm and hauling me off.
Once again, I clung to the meal that I had - rightfully? - stolen, the still-warm vegetables squishing themselves against my chest, where I hugged the bag.
"I didn' mean t'! I was jus' hungry an' it was sittin' there an'.." I once again pleaded as we entered the backroom of what must have been some tavern. I was tossed into another chair, but this time at a table. The man pushed his shadowy hood back from his face, revealing that he was younger than he seemed, with roughly trimmed brown hair and hints of a beard at his chin. He banged a fist to the table and I jumped out of my chair.
"Trego! Get me some ale," he shouted and looked me over, "An a mug a' juice!"
Within moments a man appeared with the mugs and set them on the table.The man across from me toyed with his mug for a moment while I hesitantly picked up mine. After sniffing it ever slightly I took a sip.
"Now, boy," said the man, smirking with a crooked smirk, "What's yer name? Y' got parents? And why don'tcha get out that handsome supper o' yours."
Realizing he meant the stolen chicken, I dumped the contents of the bag on the table, breaking off a leg for myself while I watched him with wide eyes. "Nolan," I answered at a near whisper,"I don' got no parents, sir."
The man nodded thoughtfully as a spun a knife from seemingly of nowhere, slicing up some of the chicken and taking a piece, stabbing a potato for himself, too. "Good. You familiar with the court of the Rogue?"
I was confused. Again. The rogue? I was but eleven years old, orphaned since I could take an apple from a cart. "No sir," I answered again, gnawing the leg, already barely any meat on the bone.
The man took a large bite of the potato as he talked, "Well. We thieves live by th' dishonest ways of the street. We have a court. We're headed by The Rogue. He…takes special intrest in the street rats."
Assuming I was a street rat, I simply nodded, listening while he talked.
"Always said they had the most talent, since they know the ups an' downs of the streets," He toyed with his knife, turning it around in his hand, admiring the blade, "An we each take one on as our apprentice. You are to be mine."
Now being on the streets for so many years, living in filth with the drunkards and druggies, I had no idea what such apprenticeship entailed. But, for now, I had a meal, a near-full belly, and a promised bed to sleep in. Should such arrangements not be to my wishings, I figure I could escape in the morning.