01 - The Price of Talent by Peter Whittlesey

gathered around the hearth, drank a few mugs of the beer Ross and Sapphire brewed, and shared stories. I heard tales about robberies that went wrong, robberies that went right, stories from myth and legend. Ross was an especially good storyteller. I guess that as a former chaplain of the church, he had learned how to tell a good story. I was also surprised to learn that he knew how to brew beer. It didn’t seem like the kind of behavior priests usually engaged in.
     
    “Kid, I could tell you all sorts of stories that would surprise you about the behaviors of priests, but that’s not really proper after dinner conversation. However, I will tell you this, there are whole monasteries that exist that support themselves by brewing beer. They brew beers at these monasteries that put our brew here to shame. Just think, tasting a beer that is the product of hundreds of years of refinement, brewed by monks whose faith in beer is only exceeded by their faith in God and the Holy Empire. The kind of beer that gives a man faith in the divine…”
     
    It was quite a story, and I could see by his wistful expression that he had had the good fortune of tasting one or two of these fabled brews before.
     
    At the end of the week, I was called away from just such a story by the Boss, or Devlin, as that was his real name. I had not seen him or heard from him since he was dragged back to the base from rescuing me. Apparently his convalescence was going well and he was now healthy enough to speak to me and decide my fate. I immediately found myself very nervous. While I was sure I had proven my value by freeing Moira up from farming to spend more time hunting in the forest, I was not sure if this was enough to prove my value to “The Boss”.

Chapter 7.
     
    “Tyr, is it?” Asked Devlin.
     
    “Uh… yes sir.” I responded.
     
                  Devlin was sitting up in bed. He was wearing a light shirt and breaches covering his bandages. He seemed to be coming along fairly well. After all, it had only been a week since he had been wounded. Still, the whole situation had me very nervous. As far as I knew, my future hung in the balance of this little interview.
     
    “Moira tells me you’ve been a real help on the farm which has allowed her to do more hunting. This is a good, as I have a real weakness for cured meats. Bacon for preference, but there are fewer wild pigs in the woods than deer.”
     
    “Uh… yes sir.” What is it about authority figures that turns kids into gibbering idiots?
     
    “OK, I can see you’re nervous. Let’s put things to rest first, I am not going to throw you out into the cold. What kind of host or leader would I be if I did that?”
     
    “Oh thank god!” I stammered. I almost lost my feet with relief and had to pause to take a few deep breaths just to pull myself back together again.
     
    “Ross tells me you’ve had quite an interesting past couple of months.” He said. “Something about you getting chased by inquisitors, losing your family and the like?”
     
    “Uh… yes sir. It’s all been a bit of a blur honestly.”
     
    “He also says you have quite the interesting blade.”
     
    “Yes sir, it was found with me after my family farm was destroyed.”
     
    “Can I see the sword?”
     
    “Yes sir, I will have to go get it though.”
     
    “I can wait, while I’m convalescing I’m not going very far anyway.”
     
    “OK, I’ll be right back.” I said as I ran to my room to pick up my sword.
     
    Oh, now you remember me.
     
    Really? You want to do this now?
     
    Oh, you mean the first time in a week that you have paid any attention to me? Yes, why would I choose to talk to YOU now? Maybe it’s because you are the only person I can talk to and you have been ignoring me all week?
     
    I’m sorry we have not talked much recently, but I have had a lot of chores to do around here. I only just found out they aren’t going to throw me out of here.
     
    Yes, I’m aware.