Chapter 5
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The Boil was the second oldest member of The Brotherhood. Despite this, he showed little signs of aging. He was round, with red hair and a red face. His name started as a joke, but it stuck after a while.
He was a seasoned warrior, having worked as a mercenary for several years before meeting us. With his experience, Hoppe didn't think twice about recruiting him.
The two had a special bond. Often, Hoppe would go to The Boil to make attack plans. Sometimes I asked him about the old warrior, so that I could learn more about him. He spoke little of the man, as we were supposed to.
The bartender returned to our room. He almost fell to his knees when he saw the remains of the chair.
He steadied himself on the wall, took a deep breath, and then looked over at Hoppe. “Would you gentlemen like something to eat? The cook has prepared a wonderful onion stew.”
Hoppe nodded. The bartender left, and my brothers rushed to the table. He returned with six steaming hot bowls on a tray. He placed them on the table, then left us to them. My brothers attacked the food with more ferocity than when the wine was delivered.
The stew was salty, the onions were sweet and soft. The taste was so mesmerizing we didn’t bother to converse with each other. We were halfway through our bowls when we heard a knock at the door. Expecting another serving, The Boil hobbled to the entrance and threw the door open. Our spoons all fell on the table when we saw it wasn’t the bartender, but Nigel.
“Greetings,” he said. “I’m glad to see you are feeding yourselves. There is a long journey ahead of us. I trust that Mutt has convinced you to join forces with me.”
"As far as I recall, you have no forces we can join with," The Boil said. "Consider this a favor out of pity."
Nigel accepted that. He walked over to the table, standing in between Hoppe and me. He placed his small hands on the table and began to speak: “The shipment will stop in Far Rock, as Mutt hopefully told you. The road just outside the inn will take us north. It should be a straight shot there. My guess is we will arrive by tomorrow morning.” “The caravan has to be moving fast,” I said, getting up. “Let’s not waste any time.”
“Wait!” The Boil said, coming back to his seat, “I’m not finished yet!”
“We’ve had plenty to eat. Besides, we’ll be able to afford better food and drink soon enough.”
“And who made you the leader?” Skum barked. “I ain’t finished either, and my legs are still a little sore. What d’ya think, Hoppe? Wanna rest a bit longer?”
The old warrior glanced at Skum, and then at me. My heart seized up when I met his cold gaze. My brothers took his silence as a yes and continued to pig out. Nigel left the room with a grimace on his face.
After a long while, my brothers finally decided they were ready to leave The Dove’s Rest. We walked down the stairs and went along the bar. Hoppe paid the bartender what we owed him. He then flicked an extra copper crown in front of the man. “A little extra for the cook,” he said, and then we were out the door.
The air was cool, almost chilly. The clouds hadn’t parted and had become a touch greyer. Nigel was waiting outside the inn, looking just as gloomy as the day. Morale was high among my brothers, however. Perhaps it was a good idea to let them lounge around a bit longer. They shoved passed the noble and hit the trail as soon as we left the inn. Fingers unstrapped the lute from his back and began to pluck at the strings lightly. We came to an oak tree covered with signing birds. The mixing of the two tunes had turned the day from gloomy to quaint rather quickly. Skum began to sing some offkey lyrics about the Fifth of Arn’s Sacrifice. In between the song, he talked about all the wine we were to capture. The possibility of free drink always made my brothers lively. Soon, they were all talking about it.
Hoppe stayed behind. The noble trailed behind him, struggling to keep up. I came to his side. He kept his eyes locked forward, ignoring my presence. I struggled for a moment, thinking of something I could say.
“I thought for sure these clouds were gonna bring rain,” I said. “Good weather means good fortune, as you always say.”
“I hope that’s true,” Hoppe said. “It would be a shame to side with that insolent wretch for nothing.”
I tried to laugh. “He’s not on our side. Remember the fifth. That’s the trick up our sleeve.” There appeared to be a faint smirk on his face when I mentioned that again.
“A glorious day that was, and one of your finer moments. You showed true loyalty to The Brotherhood that day.”
I bowed. “Thank you for saying so, sir.” Hoppe waved a hand at me, as if that wasn’t necessary. “If you say we will relive that day, I trust you won’t let us down. Remember, a brother is only given so many chances.” With that, he fell back, staying to the side of the road.
I caught up with the others. Fingers was playing faster, and all my brothers joined in to sing. I couldn’t share in their merriment, however. My mind started racing. We were the only members of The Brotherhood that had ever existed. It made me wonder, what did happen to one who ran out of chances? They were killed, I hoped, as I'm not sure I would be able to live with the shame.
I looked back at Hoppe, and he was staring. Ever since the incident a few months prior, he had been watching me, judging me with his eyes. It was beginning to drive me mad. Was my loyalty to The Brotherhood truly waning? No, I said to myself. I needed my head to be clear for the attack. I shook the feeling off and ran ahead. I wouldn't let any of them down.
Streaks of blue began to show in the clouds above. Sunlight trickled through, shining down on The Brotherhood, briefly warding off the morning chill. My brothers continued to sing happily. Nigel, however, looked utterly miserable. He was on his knees, moving as fast as a snail. He was panting heavily.
“Rest?” he croaked, before collapsing to the ground.
“Now?” Fingers said. “But my song is just getting started.”
As much as the bard wanted to continue, Nigel could not stand. The few times he tried, he instantly fell back down. Skum, Hogfarmer, and The Boil, as lazy as they had become, took after him. The trio sat in a circle on the roadside and began playing cards. The Scholar started reading his spell journal, while Hoppe wandered off into the nearby bushes. It was against my wishes, but I supposed giving them a chance to sit would help them conserve their energy. I used this time to sit on a boulder and sharpen my sword.
Hoppe returned. He brushed passed Nigel to continue the journey. We all followed. Hogfarmer lifted the noble back to his feet. Nigel did his best to keep up, but he was always twenty or so paces behind. A small stream appeared beyond a hill, as did a signpost. The Scholar, our only literate member, read it.
"Twenty strides to Far Rock," he said.
Nigel collapsed when he heard that. So we all decided to rest a little longer. My brothers returned to their previous activities, while Nigel sat by the stream. He removed his sandals and stuck his feet in the water, washing them.
“If only I had someone to rub them,” he said, “then perhaps we would be able to make it to Far Rock today.”
We all looked over at him. “What’s that supposed to mean?” I said. “It means I’m not accustomed to this lifestyle of yours,” he said. “All this walking for miles and miles, it’s torturous. Have any of you ever thought about buying a horse? I refuse to take another step today.” He produced a rag from within his doublet and dried his feet with it. I approached.
Clenching my fist, I struck him upside the back of his head, knocking him unconscious. I lifted him back on my shoulder. “Get up, all of you. We’ll be there by nightfall.”
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