Hell's Fountain: The Killing Sands

"I paid gold aplenty to have those lazy thugs of yours keep watch on the market, Guard-Captain, and they are not to leave until after my caravan does or Magister Evgenii will hear of it."

"Surely you are not implying the good people of Hell’s Fountain are thieves, Merchant Ustean?" Some of them were, but it was a grave insult to for an Outsider to imply those who lived by the Holy Waters were not as pure as the Water itself. "I need one file to retrieve a body from the desert. The other two files will remain to guard your wares."

"I’ll expect a refund for the one file then…" Ustean faltered in mid-bluster with his index finger pressed against my chest as a mix of emotions played across his face. "A body from the desert you say? It wouldn’t happen to be the body of a young boy perhaps twelve years of age, would it?"

"Are you saying one of your people is missing from your caravan, Ustean?"

"No, not exactly one of my people. There was a boy, a thief but not a very good one, who was working a debt off to us on this journey. He hasn’t been seen since last night." Ustean ran the fingers of one hand along his thick beard.

"A thief working a debt off to you? You think someone in your caravan decided on a shorter path to retribution?" I scanned the crowd out of habit and found the hazel eyed woman staring at me from beside one of the closer stalls. Ustean followed my gaze and looked back up at me with a frown.

"The boy wasn’t a good enough thief to be worth the effort. There was something…a bit off about him though. I think he wanted to incur a debt to us so he would have to work it off by coming with us to Hell’s Fountain." Ustean stared thoughtfully at me for a moment and resumed his blustering by stabbing his finger at my chest. "I will be refunded a portion of my gold, Guard-Captain."

"You forget your place in the Circle of Life, Merchant. Place your finger on my chest again and I shall cut it off and make you eat it." I rested my left hand lightly on the grip of the curved heavy bladed knife resting in its scabbard on my hip. Behind me I heard Yosef inhale sharply. In Hell’s Fountain guards were polite to wealthy merchants, but in the North merchants did not jab their fingers at warriors. To my surprise Ustean gave me a pleased smirk.

"When I pass through your village on my way home I shall assure them the desert has not made their sons soft. May the spirits of the water keep you safe Guard-Captain." Ustean nodded respectfully and then stalked off to bluster at one of the lesser merchants in his troop. I turned and took the reins of my horse from Yosef.

"Your families were worried that the desert was making you soft? Northmen are a strange folk, Saxon Tage, a very strange folk." Yosef grinned at me as he mounted his horse. "Must be why you and your men are managing to scare most of the bandits away. You might scare them all away if you all weren’t such pretty-boys…and if you got yourself a real sword."

"A warrior chief of the Vedia Tribe must fight as our brothers the wolves: claw and fang." I gripped in turn the pommels of the curved knife on my left hip and then the short sword on my right.