The sunset was nearly upon him. Jet wasn't mad he was getting robbed, he was angry he couldn't last one day without these ruffians interfering with his work. Bother.
"Only three?" Their commander, a gruff-looking fellow that desperately needed a bath, was emptying his coin purse. "You sure you're not holding out?" He approached menacingly. "I'll find it, and take your tongue for lying little bookworm."
Jet, calm and composed, shook his head. "Look all you want chief. That's all the coin I have." The bandit holding a blade to his back was an inconvenience, and he was somewhat afraid this would be the day he joined the Lord. But, oh well. What could he do about it?
The commander, short but with a boisterous voice bit one of the coins. "At least it's pure gold. Hu! Anything in that saddle?"
"Just some papers, an ink pot, quill."
The third bandit was keeping a weary eye on Jet's face. Jet had painted blue spots all across its neck. Fanning a deadly illness. If they stole the horse, it would die in a couple of days. Or so they thought.
The commander turned on Jet again, breathing his disgusting breath in Jet's face. "What would a bookworm with a dead horse be doing on this road at this time of year, eh?"
"My good man, you are not the first to ask that." Jet shrugged. "I am going to meet my father."
The commander blinked. "Look here, you think us stupid?"
"Not at all." Jet raised his hands in mock deference. "I speak truth."
The three gave each other looks that did not bold well.
"Maybe these papers can fetch something?"
"Bah!" The commander sneered. "Unless they are the Spymaster's plans, what good are they? Who are you going to sell parchment to, Huk? Worthless piece of -"
"Actually," Jet gambled and intervened, he had to take control of the situation. "If you would allow me to place my signature on them, you could find a buyer."
They all looked at him. "And who might you be?"
"I'm a famous Scholar, you see." Jet humbly bowed his head. "My work is known far and wide."
"Really? Why are you on this road then? With a horse that could leave you stranded any day?"
Jet shrugged. "I have come to misfortune, good sir. This world is unkind to the artist in us. I wish to spend my final years with my sick father up North." Jet shrugged again, smiled. "Is that so bad?"
The commander narrowed his eyes. "You give your signature... then what?"
"Then you will go into Luthrand and shop it around the bookstores in the Color Square." Jet nodded to himself. "I guarantee you'll find a buyer."
The three goons looked at each other in that dumb way of theirs. Huk nodded, and the commander signaled Jet to get to it. He did just that, and after a while, the three bandits were headed towards the capital with three gold pieces and a stack of useless parchment.
Jet sighed as he climbed his horse. He didn't lie about everything, he really was seeing his father, and this was probably the last day of his journey. Jet had gotten robbed each day, except for the first when he got robbed twice. He would have to report this to his father.
Jet rode his horse all night - he didn't want to risk it. Better to reach the barricade before another patrol found him. As dawn broke, so did the tall wooden walls of his father's encampment.
He got off his horse as four bows were aimed at him. Jet calmly raised his hands and let the door open. Carl looked perplexed to see him. "What are you doing here?" He seemed genuinely disgusted. Good. High tide he was replaced. "So. You're back?"
"I never left, Carl." Jet lowered his arms. "Take me to him."
Carl begrudgingly nodded and the others lowered their bows. He signaled for Jet to follow as he took him through the camp. Jet saw nothing of note inside. Just a bunch of wannabe bandits lounging around doing nothing.
Another note.
Carl stopped in front of a big tent, taking the flap and holding it open for Jet. As was the costume.
"Thank you, kind sir." Jet knew that Carl hated being called that. Once Jet discovered this, he never stopped using the honorific.
His father was studying some maps spread across a big war table. Were they at war now? No, probably just posturing as always. Carl stepped out after announcing Jet and his father faced him.
"Did you bring it?"
Jet pulled out his two front teeth. Broken when he was in a brawl in his youth. A lesson well learned, a reward well granted. He opened the compartmented teeth to reveal two Stardust Ingets. Worth more than a small fortune int these lands, and more overseas.
He handed the beads over to his father. "You're men are slacking. I got stopped five times the last four days, father."
His father sighed. "What would you have me do, Jet? They are criminals! I don't have time tot rain them!"
Jet shrugged. "Just letting you know they almost killed me yesterday." Jet grinned. "Sent them on a marry goose chase in the Capital."
His father rolled his eyes. "So I've lost three more men is what you're saying..."
Jet shrugged yet again. "Probably. Did you need them?"
His father fingered the beads. "Probably not." He looked at Jet. "You're staying?"
"My condition?"
His father stood there, stewing. "I.. have considered your request. And cannot comply."
"I'm going then -"
"I cannot kill, Carl. But," His father lifted a finger. "You can have his position. Run the camp in his stead. He will be my 'personal' advisor, you see."
Jet nodded slowly. "The fool will think it a promotion." His father reciprocated.
Jet smiled his devilish smile. He accepted of course...
It was time for things to change around here.
Obligatory shout-out to the 🍕PIZZA🍕 gang, 🤙 gang. 🤙
This one was a fast write-up. Just came to me, attacked me really. Had no choice but to post it. 😁 Thanks for reading!
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