Chapter 21: The truth hurts, eh?

Basil POV:

A couple of hours ago, Rowan and I managed to get a gig at the docks. We robbed people too, not because we were bastards who didn't want to work, but because most of the people in Lergo didn't want to give us a job.

The guards in prison always gave food to their prisoners. The mush, for I didn't know how else I could call it, which we got yesterday, did me good. Most people would say that prison food is also a form of corporate punishment, but those people had never gone more than three days without food.

I thought that, now that we had a gold coin, we could afford to rent a room in a tavern, and then get a bath. I wanted to snuggle up with Rowan in a warm bed, or, if that was not possible, at least in a bed which didn't have creepy crawlies running under the blanket. 

Of course, my peaceful day had to be ruined. Not because of the rain, which started abruptly, and forced us to take shelter in an abandoned shop, no.

The disaster came in the form of a teenager, with a shoulder-length curly hair, red, puffy eyes, and a flame in said eyes, which could only lead to one thing:

Another trip to the police station.

"Nate, was it?" I was a realist. If I had to get imprisoned once more, then so be it. But I couldn't allow myself to be the punching bag of someone who wanted to live in a pink world when the world was gray. 

Well, maybe not gray. After the war, the world was now with the color most commonly found in human waste. Human waste that was actually the product of stomach worms.

"Fight me!" And the little prince wanted to get beat up. That wouldn't help him any. So far, I knew, he had never done anything to anyone. I didn't want to blame him for his witch of a mother, honestly. So, I sat down.

"No," Rowan looked at me, but I just shook my head. This was a child, I was an adult, and a general to boot. Well, former general, but still. I couldn't stoop to such a low level, as to beat the poor thing without a reason.

"You are from Arkano! You must hate me! Fight me!" God forbid, a teenager would ever think rationally.

"What do you know about hate, Nate?" It was a rational question, at least in my mind. Someone should have spoken with the poor boy.

I didn't want to take this duty. Honestly, most people would assume that me not rising to his bait was good enough. Honorable, one might even say.

Still, when no one else could do something, then it was best that you did it yourself.

"Basil, let us go," Rowan laid a hand on my shoulder. His other hand on his baton. I snorted.

"In that downpour? No, thanks. Besides, Nate just wants to talk," I was calm. Knew I could take the kid if it came to that. Still, Rowan never liked it when such things happened.

We had never attempted to attack kids before. Even our attack on those four was something of an accident. Mike, at least I think that was what the two-meter-high giant of a boy was called, looked older than he actually was. Honestly, at first, I thought he was a party leader, or the parent of one of the boys.

Two-meters... I honestly wanted to find out with what they fed that boy. Wanted some of it for myself. As Halfling I couldn't grow very tall, but if it got me more muscle mass, then it would still be good for me.

"I don't want to talk; I want to fight!" Oh, that boy was slowly trying my patience.

"Basil, please," Rowan tugged at my shoulder. I sighed, reached out in my bag, and took out a bottle of tea. A luxury, to be sure, but one I was willing to sacrifice for the good of the poor boy.

"Nate, do you like mint tea with honey?" I had half a mind to tell him it was booze, but thought better of it. Placebo was not something to be played with.

"I want to fight you!" He yelled. I snorted, opened the bottle, and then took a big gulp. Calm and collected, I whipped my lips clean, inhaled deeply, and then yawned. "What do you think you are doing?"

"Testing you," a test that he passed. Not a bastard after all, just a boy who had lived a hard life. "Nate, my boy, if you had really come here to beat me up, then you would have drowned me in the tea. Instead of waiting, for me to finish with the drinking. You are a good boy. Now, do you want to talk?"

I waited a couple of seconds, but as he sat down, I slowly handed him the bottle. He took it with the gusto of an ancient vampire, who only drank from people, who attempted to go back home on all fours after a long night in a tavern.

Needless to say, he drank half the bottle in one go.

"Look, I am biased," I had to admit it to the poor boy. I just knew what I believed I knew. My truth could also be just a mountain of horse manure. Still, I did try to find out more during the years. Rowan was near me, and he used to work in information gathering for Naschestan.

If there were two people who could point the poor thing in the right direction, without burdening him with pity, then it was the two of us.

"Yes, because you fought for Arkano," he blurted out, his eyes locked on the bottle.

"No, not because of that. It is more because my entire family died in the war," I admitted. The boy looked at me finally, and nodded. A better prompt I couldn't have gotten.

"It all started when Queen Sybil, a demon saint, left the demon realm," it was a hard story to tell, and I still didn't have all the details, but the boy deserved to learn everything I knew.

I owed it to him. After all, I was the one who poisoned his mother.