by Eric Johnson
up the corpse.
Dru’Ar picked a group of people heading out of the trade house and followed right behind them as if part of their group. Once on the streets he strolled as calmly as he could until he found a suitable alley to slide into.
Comfortably situated in a shadow he sat and caught his breath. Each step he had taken away from there he had felt the small bag bumping him in the rears. It was heavy for such a small bag. He was quite certain everyone must have been looking at it. Even now he still sat on top of it fearing that if he pulled it out someone would see.
He listened long and hard and never heard an alarm go up. He looked in his hand and realized he still had half a peach slice left. He took another small bite and enjoyed the contrast in textures between the candied pecans and the chewy fruit.
Three mice emerged out of a grate near him and went over to a dumpster and disappeared within. They had obviously not seen him or else they would have run.
He listened to them shuffling around in there and having hushed conversation. After a while they surfaced and slid across the alley and into a different grate.
Finally feeling alone and semi-safe, Dru’Ar reached behind himself and released the tie on the bag. A moment later he held the dark felt bag in his hand. The rich people loved felt not only because it was fancy, but it kept coins from jingling. The bag itself could be sold for enough coppers to feed him well for a month.
Slowly and reverently he opened the bag. As soon as daylight hit the contents there was a shine and a sparkle visible. He poured the contents onto his hand and coins emerged; gold coins. These were real gold coins, not that gold coloured stuff the merchants liked to pass around. Each had a satisfying and deep clink sound as they hit his hand. There were eight gold coins in all. Each coin by itself was more money than he had possessed during his entire life combined.
He stared at it and made plans. He could own this town with this kind of money. Well, not the town really, but he could at least live very comfortably for quite some time. If he got a room at Everhill Inn down the road he would be away from anyone that knew him here and start fresh. That way he would not have to explain where the money came from. He would miss Jesh, but there would be women enough with this kind of money.
He realized that one coin looked a bit different. It was not really gold. It was harder and darker. He nearly stopped breathing when he realized it was a platinum coin. That was worth… that was worth… well he did not know how much it was worth, but a lot more than the other seven coins together.
He tossed the coins back into the bag and stood up. This was definitely going to be a great day.
Feeling confident about himself he stepped out into the street and took a deep breath. It was time to tell St. Ellwood goodbye.
Suddenly a body, a large body, collided with the furry and knocked him to the ground. A rather large foot pressed down on him before suddenly letting up.
“Why you in way?” An eleven foot tall giant called down to him.
“Nothing! Sorry!” the furry called up to the giant.
A sound of metal hitting the street next to him made his blood freeze. It was very expensive sounding metal. The giant seemed to hear it too.
“Wha you got?” the giant demanded while reaching down at him.
Dru’Ar scooped the coins as quick as he could to gather them up then a huge hand closed over his and lifted his entire body up off the ground.
“I say wha you got!” the giant demanded again.
Dru’Ar kicked out at the giant ineffectually. The giant ignored these efforts and opened his hand enough to expose the Furry’s hand. Then he easily pried open the fingers to reveal the prize all the while Dru’Ar was dangling above the ground.
The giant extracted the bag and coins from the furry and then tossed him aside like a piece of trash.
Dru’Ar stood up as quick as he could in case he had to run, but the giant no longer noticed him. He looked up the street and spotted the gentleman along with a crew of traders coming towards them.
The furry raised his arms in the air and shouted, “Here! He stole your bag!”
“Wha?” The giant grunted and tried to figure out what was going on.
“I followed him but he attacked me when I tried to retrieve it for you!” He was still calling. The traders and the gentleman rushed forward all bearing swords of one type or another. The Gentleman had one too but his appears much nicer than the others, it had a glean to it and looked well maintained and hardly used.
The group spread out slightly and then converged on the giant flanking him in a full circle.
“Who wha?” the giant still did not know what was going on but quickly went on the defensive.
A hand from the giant lashed out at a nearby trader knocking him backwards and out of commission. Another trader leapt forward and left a huge gash in the attacking arm. The giant cried out in pain.
Dru’Ar stepped quietly backwards in between two barrels and squatted down and let his fur blend with the shadows.
The giant still clutched the bag in one hand and was swinging wildly at anything that came near him with the bloody arm. He even started kicking out at them. That was how the second trader was knocked out. Actually, it looked like he may have been killed. His chest caved in when the foot hit him. The furry winced at the sight but stayed motionless.
The gentleman then took the lead in the attack. He deftly moved towards the giant and where ever the giant attacked, the gentleman was not there. Once he got in range, he leapt at the giant and bore down with his blade across the forehead. A huge wound opened on the man’s head but still he was fighting.
Two traders jumped in to the attack from either side and targeted the underarms of the giant simultaneously. The giant pulled in his arms and snapped both swords off, but they were still buried in him. He staggered a couple of steps back looked at the bag and coins in his hand and then hurled them at the nearest trader actually knocking him out.
The giant turned to run and the gentleman was on him. He bounded up and landed with his sword buried in the giant’s back right at the base of the neck. The giant instantly stopped running, kind of winced his shoulder blades together, and then fell flat on his face.
At this time a couple of the town watch showed up.
“What’s going on here?” Captain Dill demanded.
The gentleman pulled his sword from the back of the giant and turned around to the guards. “Just trader business. He stole from traders, that falls under Trader Law.”
Captain Dill was taken aback by the gentleman’s presence and immediately recanted his attitude. “Sorry sir. I did not know. We just heard a disturbance.”
“And showed up after the fighting was done.” The gentleman said but his tone of voice did not betray any malice.
“Well, uh…” the watchman stammered, “we got here as fast as we could. You will be taking care of the body? Since it falls under Trader Law?”
The gentleman nodded and signalled to the other traders and turned and walked away.
The watchmen only hung around for a few minutes before becoming bored of watching the clean-up. It was an hour before the body was broken down and dragged away on a couple of carts.
Dru’Ar’s legs were cramping beneath him, but he was able to outlast the excitement. Fortunately he was forgotten and not noticed the entire time.
The closest gate was the East Gate and if he hurried, he could still make it before the gates closed.
Before getting up, the furry opened his right hand and peered down at what it contained, a single platinum coin.
About the Author
“What if?”
Eric Johnson would die without this question.
One can, and should, contemplate this question when one is slaved to the phone lines doling out the Golden Rule of the Windows operating system, "Have you rebooted your computer yet?" With this and a handful of progressive questions, he is the deserving title-holder of HERO forty to fifty times a day as he resolves end-use
r issues. And yet, this is not enough for one man.
When he escapes the clutches of the forty-hour paradigm...
...he gives himself over to family. A father for five years and a husband for approximately forever, he expresses his love for them through nearly-gourmet cooking, wisdom dispensing, and in fits and starts, domicile upkeep.
...he gives himself over to exploration. A veteran of war (dialing), virtual and real photography dark rooms, and bike rides to Hades and back, he has always been a geek. He can easily be lured into conversations about physics, space travel, science fantasy, and occasionally, computers.
...he gives himself over to reading. Books consumed are too numerous to store in any one place, much less catalogue. He still believes in the magic of the printed word, but does possess compassion for the e-reader. He has read the internet…twice. He is an ardent supporter of the mythos that Playboy magazine does have articles. He is willing to read words in any medium, from clay tablets to Fark to fortune cookies (in bed).
…he gives himself over to writing.
Eric will want his readers to know that he is not perfect for he has still not cured cancer. Instead, he invites the reader to join him in the adventure of, “What if?”
