5 February 2013
CHAPTER 4
On the ninth day of our journey, we stopped at a small, dirty backwater town called Ortien. Tpek appeared to know it quite well, and we spent the night in a rather shabby tavern called The Duke's Penny. It was so dissimilar to the quiet inn where Tpek had been staying that I thought we might have wandered into the wrong place, but Tpek obviously knew it. It was packed, and reeked of beer and the black tar that most of the buildings in Ortien were covered in. Drunken men brawled in one corner, and in another a group of people were smoking strange substances that made them very happy indeed. The barman, who seemed to know Tpek, was a huge red bearded man with a mouth full of chewing tobacco and a glint of real intelligence in his rust coloured eyes. "Ashbar!" He shouted, when he saw the thief, "I haven't seen you in a while! How can I help you?" "Two beers, Kralt," Tpek replied, "and a night in your best rooms." "Follow me," the man named Kralt said, leading us over to the entrance to his cellar. I thought it was a strange place to put his best bedrooms, but I followed anyway. Kralt lead us down a flight of stairs, into a dingy cellar. He pushed a certain spot on the wall with his large hands, that turned out to be a hidden entrance to a long, dim, corridor. The barman led us right along to the end of the hall, to two bedrooms. He showed me my small room, and lit up my fireplace, before leading Tpek into the other bedroom. I heard them lock the door, and then an argument on the other side. Pressing my head against the wood, I tried to distinguish the words. "What are you up to, Tpek? I thought you were in hiding." That voice was Kralt, and he sounded very worried. "It's been three years. I've been sitting around in a stinking bar in Rennar for three damn years." Tpek said, "And then someone manages to find me, and offers me one of the hardest jobs I've ever received, Kralt. I'd have taken anything, anything, to get me out of that place, and this isn't just any job. What did you expect me to do?" "You were there for a reason, Tpek," Kralt said, his voice angry, "And you left when someone you don't even know offers you a little job?" "I didn't ask for your approval, Kralt," Tpek said in a low voice, "Just a stay here and a few drinks." I stopped listening at that point. It was just in time, because Kralt stormed out of Tpek's room, closely followed by Tpek. "Come on," He said to me, "Let's get a drink."
Four pints of beer later, Tpek and I sat with our drinks at a table in the corner. "So Tpek," I said, trying to make conversation with the thief, who was sitting moodily staring into his glass. "Why do you do, you know, thievery? I mean, what's the reason?" Tpek continued to contemplate his empty drink. Eventually, he answered, "For most people, life is just... stuff. You know, like money and sex and violence and things." He paused. "But for me, it's all stuff to do, and things to see. It's all... waiting for me to take it. That's why. Not money or stuff." "Oh," I said, not really sure exactly how to respond. Luckily, I didn't have to. One of the brawlers had decided to take a swing at Tpek. It didn't turn out quite how he'd planned. I wandered down to the secret rooms, with the sound of Tpek showing how the man how a real punch was carried out in my ears, and another impression of the thief forming in my mind.
Heart Of The Thief - 4 • Opuss № I