by Neishai
The boy eyed the four strangers with mild amusement. Two men leaned lightly against one another even sitting down, one swaying almost imperceptibly on the bench, the other looking cynical and worried all at once. Next to the second man sat a woman, obviously his kin (a sister perhaps) and on the end sat the third man, her lover; his relationship to her was made sickeningly obvious by the way he fawned over her.
"Did we hear you correctly?" the child asked, his voice high like a choirboy's, and words carefully enunciated. His fingers were wrapped around a mug of hot chocolate while others around him had been served wine, beer, or mead.
"You heard me right," the first man said with a mildly deranged look in his eye.
"You want to steal from dragons? That is what we do." He paused. "It is a very dangerous profession…"
"Exactly!"
Suddenly the boy realized that this man's affliction was more a psychological than a physical one, that the 'support' received by the man next to him was of that nature, even though he leaned against him. And yet, he was lithe and strong, his feet, when standing, placed more carefully than one might think. His clean blue-black hair was held back in a braid, with a golden clasp that matched the hoops in his ears. His face was -- as were all of the men's faces around the table -- clean-shaven. The boy began to regard them with great caution. He's not crazy like a loon, is he? He's crazy like a fox.
He glanced around the inn, made eye contact with two of his men, then returned his attention to the others. "And how did you come to hear of us?"
The lady snorted and drawled, "Aw, come on. It wasn't like it was that hard."
The man sitting next to the young lad -- his right hand man -- shot her a hostile look. "Don't speak to him like that!"
"Hush." The boy held up a warding hand, and like a well-trained dog, his companion sat back in his seat, glowering maliciously. "Please forgive Lucci, he can be a little overprotective."
Lilian, the woman who had spoken, eyed her lover with a smirk, clasping his hand in hers under the table. He returned the gesture, smiled innocently. "I know how that can be," she said. Under her breath, she muttered, "Cheyno, he and you oughtta get together sometime and compare notes, eh?" She jabbed his ribs lightly with the same elbow.
"Aww, I'd be doin' all the teaching, I'm afraid, Love," Cheynoron replied with a wink.
Li's brother said, "To answer your question, we asked around. We know some shady sorts." His expression was unchanged as he spoke: dark, worried, perhaps even angry. It was obvious he did not want to be here. His friend obviously did, perhaps that was the only reason he had come. The other two seemed to care less where they were.
"I know all kinds," the longhaired one said.
"And what is it you all do, exactly?" the boy inquired.
"What can you possibly contribute to our cause?" his companion, Lucifer muttered in clarification.
Aquxianal gestured to the man beside him. "Vash was once … well … what you'd call a bard, I suppose."
"He sang songs to little kids," Cheynoron added.
The boy raised an eyebrow. "Sang songs?"
Vash glared at Cheyno. "Yes. That is how people where we're from teach," he said carefully. "History and tradition are passed on through song."
"I see."
"And this helps us how?"
"Hush." The boy repeated, glaring up at Lucci, who forced himself to sit back, relaxing his aggressive posture. It was obvious to all around the table, and even from across the room, who between the two was truly in charge. "I heard that you rode dragons for a time."
Vash closed his eyes for a few seconds. "Hyshkath," he whispered. It sounded like a whoosh of air, through a grove of trees in the dead of winter. He cleared his throat. "Yes. I was a dragon rider. Flew in a wing for over ten years; taught classes and showed new riders the ropes…"
"He was what they call a weyrling master," Aqu added.
Suddenly Vash chuckled; it was a deep, eerie sound. "I'm a corrupter of children. People live and die by my word."
People stared at him wordlessly for several moments. Even his own companions were surprised and appalled by what he said. Aqu told himself the behavior was all a part of the grieving process. "He is a brilliant strategist," he said quietly, "despite what you might think. I on the other hand, am a healer."
The child had regained his composure, seemed to be taking notes in his head. "A healer."
"Yes. More so as a hobby lately." Before Lucifer could say anything snide, he added with an arched brow, "Every pack of thieves needs a good healer. That is I."
Cheynoron cleared his throat. "I don't do anything special, but I'm what you'd call a 'jack of all trades.' If you can't do it, I probably can. You know, building, repairs, maps, that sort of thing."
Aqu nodded matter-of-factly and added, "He is a good problem-solver, in that regard."
"Despite appearances," Lilian muttered.
"And you--" Lucci began.
"No, I've heard of her," the boy interrupted. "Yes, I know you. Lani is a notorious thief, never caught, but her reputation precedes her. The bodies of those unfortunate souls who happen upon her are found months later, when she has long since moved on. She is also a dragon healer. What can cure can also be used to poison. As you say, Lilian," the boy said with a quiet smile, "word travels 'round."
Li inclined her head gently, betraying a hint of the hunter within. What was revealed could chill the soul. "I am honored that you know of me."
Lucifer was impressed. He gazed at Cheyno meaningfully, who shifted in his seat nervously. Li squeezed his knee reassuringly, as if to remind him of the old phrase, "honor among thieves." He glared at Lucci with a lopsided grin.
The boy considered this quartet for a moment, then nodded. "Well, good then. We will meet again this time tomorrow night. There is a cave in the hills we have not investigated yet that sources say is just ripe for the taking. We will either prove or disprove the information."
"Should our sources be disproved, they will live just long enough to regret it," Lucci muttered under his breath.