The Value of Treasure 3/?
Title: The Value of Treasure
Summary: Ross, Trott and Smiff stole a treasure because they were pirates, but now King Lewis wants them burned at the stake and the Livid Cannibal wants their head on a platter. Despite all that, it’ll probably be the incompetent young boy’s fault for their ship to sink.
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Pushing the “best tavern’s” doors open, Trott and Ross crinkled their nose at the pungent smell wafting out and took their last breath of fresh air before entering. The loud, deafening cheers from the fighting ring in the center plus the overcrowded bodies jostling amongst each other introduced the familiar, slow beat of a headache to the two men, but they determinedly maneuvered their way through the bodies and stood near the bar.
“Twenty silvers on your best fighter today,” Trott shouted.
A tall, nearly balding man turned around with a greasy smile upon his face, but as soon as his eyes met Trott’s, his smile faltered and he sighed, “It’s you two, again.”
“Twenty silvers, Sips,” Trott confirmed.
“And don’t give us the weaklings like you usually do for newcomers,” Ross said, “and get me whatever you gave on tap.”
“Well, today Bulk Brogan is showing the best potential, or at least that’s what I’ve gathered from the noise,” said Sips.
“If you’re positive, mate. You are getting a cut of the wins as well,” Trott said.
Placing a glass of beer in front of Ross, Sips responded, “I usually get a cut anyways, but yes, it’s Brogan.”
“All right, now tells us what’s been going on lately,” Trott casually said, watching Ross’s face distort in disgust as he drank the glass.
“This stuff tastes like piss,” Ross coughed, slamming the glass down, “and it’s stale too.”
Sips shrugged, “Not my problem, this place was meant to be called ‘bets tavern,’ not ‘best,’ so excuse the shit drinks.”
“I still can’t believe you spelled it wrong, mate,” Trott laughed.
Shoving a piece of bread into his mouth, Sips mumbled, “Anyways, things out here has been a bit hectic. Guards have been tripled, and all the ships and carts are being searched.”
“Searched for what?” Ross asked, sharing a concerned look with Trott.
“Not sure really, but I’ve heard that the King has even dispatched the Owl to join the search party.”
Face palming, Trott laughed, “The King sent an owl to look for something? How will a bird help with anything?”
“I wouldn’t laugh at the Owl,” Sips warned, “he’s the King’s best assassin, rumored to be as silent as death even in the process of killing a victim. I’ve also heard that he didn’t gain his abilities naturally, but by someone experimenting on him. And -”
“Alright, enough with the fawning,” Trott sighed, “are you positive you don’t know what the King’s searching for?”
“Well, the crowds been chattering about the bounty of three men that had been set a few days ago,” Sips paused, wiping Ross’s empty glass clean, “which, now that I think about it, is almost the same time more troops came to town.”
“Right,” Trott drawled, nudging Ross to stand. “We’ve got to get a headstart to,” he paused, “ Felm, before the ship traffic occurs.”
Laughing at the Trott’s absurdity, Ross hooked his arm around him and chuckled, “Don’t you remember saying you’ll give the crew three - shit!” Almost immediately he grasped his shins and clutched them in pain. “Jesus, Trott, why’d you do that?”
“Because,” Trott frustratedly smiled, “I warned the crew that we must get to Felm in three days.”
Confused, Ross pouted at the sentiment of leaving early, especially since they already paid Sips the twenty Silvers, now they had to leave before they could even collect the winnings. “But what about the bet?”
“He was going to lose anyways,” Trott stated, pushing Ross to his feet, “Now let’s go, mate.”
“Thanks for the coin, lads,” Sips cheered, as the two men walked towards the exit.
Pausing before he exited, Trott quickly turned around and shouted, “We’ll come back to collect!” and pointed to the mixed crowd of boo’s and cheers, with Brogan barely surviving in the center, badly beaten, but the last one standing.
Huffing in defeat, Sips angrily mumbled to himself, “Don’t you always?”
“What the fuck,” Smith groaned in pain, carefully trying to sit up. “Those rat bastards, they need a good lashing for knocking us.” Spotting Ken a few feet away from him, Smith slowly limped his way to him and shook him awake.
“I hate rats,” Ken spat out, “Especially were-rats. You know, back in the mansion, I heard rumors about were-beings, didn’t think I’ll meet one this way.”
“Shut up, Ken!” Smith gritted, vehemently patting down his clothing.
“Now’s not the time to be touching yourself, Smith,” Kim retorted.
“Check your pockets, Ken, because it appears we’ve been robbed.”
Immediately, Kim patting her pockets, hoping Smith was wrong, but not a single coin was found. Growling in anger, she jumped to her feet, rolled up her sleeves, and stomped out of the alley to start searching for the bandits. She just got her reward, there was no way she was losing it.
Smith watched as Ken marched out the alleyway, but was taken by surprise when he suddenly stopped at the entrance. Slightly jogging to reach him quicker, Smith, too, stopped where he was. This wasn’t the port anymore. In fact, this wasn’t a place he’s ever been to before.
“Please say you know where we are,” Kim pleaded.
“Sorry, mate, that’ll make me a liar.”
Instantly, Kim punched his arm, fury rushing through her veins. “You,” she slowly said,” you - this..this is all your fault.”
Rubbing his now, sore arm, he replied, “How is this my fault? I didn’t plan a mugging for today.”
“‘I’ll show you the best place to spend your treasure,’” Kim mocked, a scowl firmly fixed on her face, “it’ll be fun, he said. Just showing you around, Ken.” She scoffed, “This is what I get for trusting a pirate.”
“This is as much as my fault as it is yours. You didn’t quite help much in taking those rat bastards down,” Smith angrily replied, “and you’re a pirate now too, mate. You aren’t that trustable, either.”
She huffed in frustration, taking slow deep breaths to calm her temper. “How are we going to find the others? More importantly, how are we going to get there when all our money is gone? All we have is the clothes off our backs; those rats might as well have taken our names as well. We can’t do anything without coin.”
“We find out where we are first,” Smith stated, “then we can decide from there.”
They began asking the strolling people amongst that street, but each time they were spat on and told to bother someone else. As time went on, Kim and Smith eventually found themselves in an open street plaza with shops fixing lights up and hoards of people swarming in. The sky grew darker as they renewed their efforts with the new crowd, but the treatment stayed the same.
Exhausted and hungry, the two sat against a building wall and sighed. The day had gone to waste, and they still haven’t found out where they were. Kim sniffed her clothing and instantly regretted doing so, as she reeked of spit and dirt. She had been spat at, kicked, shoved, and even been held at gunpoint. Never has she seen this type of vulgarity displayed in public.
Smith gazed down upon the pitiful boy next to him and sighed, “I have to do it.”
Broken from her lament, Kim asked, “Do what?”
“Just grab the coins, Little Ken.”
He ran his fingers through his hair and attempted to fix his appearance, which Kim thought was useless, and strolled to the center of the street market, his head held high, looking every bit of a noble despite his ratty clothes. Kim followed him to where he stood and confusedly watched what he was doing.
Slowly, Smith opened his mouth and a soft song spilled from his lips. Kim watched, amazed at the control of his voice, singing the tune so softly yet projecting it enough for the crowd to hear. Each note pushed and pulled at her like the waves of the ocean, tempting her to come closer, to come and behold the majestic sight. It was mesmerizing. She had never felt so at peace before, like life had come to a stall just to witness this sight.
As she reached into her pocket to pull out a coin to give, a meaty, hairy arm overreached nearly knocked her over, breaking her attention on Smith. Stunned, the world suddenly became clearer and more focused, and her mind, dazed at first, awoke from the stupor as if she was dreaming. She looked around, confused and surprised, at the crowd huddled around Smith. How had she missed the entire town gathering? Surely she’ll notice something like that. Then, almost like it was rehearsed, everyone reached to grab whatever coin they had at the moment and robotically lined up to drop it at Smith’s feet. A little bit scared, Kim hesitantly shuffled away from the crowd and stood near Smith, collecting the coins from the ground and stuffing them in her pockets.
Eventually, as the crowd dispersed, Smith’s song slowed to an end and he stepped down from where he stood. Giving a hard look at Kim, he grabbed her forearm and tugged her to the closest alleyway. “We’ve got to go now, Ken,” he said urgently, “do we have enough to pay for our way?” He shook her shoulders, making the heavy coins jingle in her pockets. “Do we?”
“Yes,” she hurriedly replied, not wanting to press Smith anymore than she has too. “We have enough coin to get out of here and still have some left over for food and shelter.”
“Good, now let’s go,” Smith said, tugging her behind him.
“Wait, why are we leaving now? We can wait till morning.”
“No, Ken. We can’t. Sirens are hunted and sold. Killed, if I’m lucky.”
