MoboReader > Adeventure > The Adventures of Larson and Garrett - On the Honor of Thieves

   Chapter 3 No.3

The Adventures of Larson and Garrett - On the Honor of Thieves By AaronDennis Characters: 5176

Updated: 2018-01-04 12:02

"But why kill Rolas, " Larson asked.

"And why leave the dagger?" Fortha added.

Mathew shook his head, ran both hands through his hair, and glanced at everyone. "I'm not finished with this investigation yet, so for now, please just follow my orders, and stay put."

"Garrett's out there, and the guards pinned the entire disaster on him, " Larson argued with an aggravated motion of his hand.

"No, he's been cleared."

"Why then is he not with us?" Lyalla snipped.

Sighing, Mathew answered, "He's a resourceful one. While I figure out one part of this puzzle, he'll unwittingly figure out another."

"Then, we should be helpin' him!" Seanessy pouted.

"No, damn it, " Mathew grumbled. He then cleared his throat. "You're all under suspicion. Just try to relax for a night. Enjoy Sara's cider. When the time is right, and I have more information, I'll send you out to do something."

They all either sighed, puffed, or griped, but Mathew remained resolute. Having given his orders, he marched down the steps and out of sight. The group passed uncomfortable glances. Sara tried to smile, but she wasn't a very cordial woman; she was a worker.

"The cider turned out good this year, " she finally said.

"Heh, " the dwarf grinned. "Pour one fer' me!"

"Yeah, me, too, " Larson acquiesced with a dismissive hand gesture.

Nodding to her guests, Sara moseyed downstairs, leaving Larson and the gang to find a way to get comfortable. They moved around some of the small crates and barrels or relaxed on the wooden floor with their backs against seed sacks. Eventually, Sara returned with a pony keg, already tapped, and a tray of mugs. The smooth cider was enjoyed by all.

"Why are you helping us, " Larson asked her. "I mean, I know you're an acquaintance of Mathew's…."

"No, " she said, shaking her head. "I'm a distant relative of Prince Roan."

The group made faces of shock, of disbelief, and Seanessy spat, "Then what're you doin' in a shack like this?!"

"Seanessy!" Lyalla chastised. Larson chuckled while she turned to Sara. "I apologize on his behalf."

"Yeah, " Larson agreed. "A be-half is all he's got."

"A short joke?" Seanessy yelled and stood from a barrel. "How's about I put half o' me boot in yer' arse, eh?"

"Would you two stop it?" Fortha complained. "My word, such boorish company. Please, Sara, since we've little else to do, will you be so kind as to tell us of yourself and your lovely home?"

"Which isn't a shack at all, " Lyalla remarked. "It's a lovely two story, " she chirped with a smile. "Very rustic."

The ag

ed woman plopped down on a crate; the cider in her mug nearly sloshing out, she took a swallow of the delicious beverage, and obliged them with her story. "The Magickal Prince's mother, Gods rest her soul, was my cousin. Our family had settled in Xorinth years ago, and when King Roan deferred rule of the city to his son, we were all offered promising positions on his court, but I'm not built for that kind of life, nor was my sister, Gods rest her soul, but my half-brother did take Prince Roan up on his offer.

"Anyway, when I told my cousin that all I ever wanted was a peaceful life that let me do as I please, she offered me some land and money, but money never really concerned me, so my sister and I took the land and used just a bit of money to start our orchard; the idea of brewing cider was mine, of course."

"Huzzah, " Seanessy interrupted with a raised glass.

Lyalla and Fortha shot him a contemptuous look, but he was oblivious. Besides, Sara raised her mug at the cheer and Seanessy clinked it with his.

Chuckling, Sara poured another round for those willing, and added, "All our hard work has paid for itself. I love my trees, my land, and a bit of magick goes a long way, " she winked.

"Magick, " Fortha asked.

"My orchard is split into quarters, and each quarter has trees that produce during two seasons, that way I can harvest eight times a year and with 'narry a lull."

"Okay, so, back to why you're helping Mathew, " Larson said, waving his free hand.

"Oh, " Sara smiled and drank more cider. "Let's just say that he works for the prince. I know he's a good man, Mathew. The prince would want me to help him, and he wants all of you of safe, so here we are."

Larson shrugged. There was little need to look a gift horse in the mouth, especially when it came bearing delightful cider.


A knock at the door woke Garrett from deep slumber. Yawning and huffing, he rolled out of bed and opened the door. Larry was standing there, smiling.

"Got your message, " he said, holding up a small scrap of parchment.

"Thank you." Garrett took the note, and Larry shuffled down the hall.

Plopping down on the bed, Garrett looked the note over. It simply stated—although misspelled—that the man was at Rowdy's. Acting quickly, Garrett dressed and tied his hair back, exited his room, ran down the stairs, waved at Larry on the way out, and received the warmth of sunlight. A subtle breeze blew through the streets of Xorinth. The fencer made the quick jog to Rowdy's door, patted the wrinkles from his clothes, and stepped inside.

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