Read Online 01 - The Price of Talent by Peter Whittlesey - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Peter Whittlesey
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what to expect.”
“I don’t doubt you didn’t. After all, this camp wasn’t what I expected when I found it either.”
“Oh when did you come here?” I asked.
“Oh five or so years ago. I was an initiate in the church learning how to be a healer. Unfortunately, I read a few things I wasn’t supposed to, there was a misunderstanding and I decided it was time to seek my fortune elsewhere.”
“You didn’t set out to be a bandit then?” I asked.
“Hah, no. Sort of an odd profession to aim for as a priest and a healer.”
“I guess,” I replied. I was not sure how to respond to that.
“But why are you here, if you don’t mind me asking?” Said Ross.
“Well, um, yeah…” I stammered again. “I grew up at my parents’ farm in Forsburg. There was an accident involving some inquisitors and… Well, there isn’t anything for me to return to now.”
“I’m sorry to hear that. But if you don’t mind me prying, what was the accident?”
“I don’t… I mean that… Well… I’m told everything exploded. I was apparently found amidst the wreckage. There was… nothing left…” I’m not sure why I was being so open about this with the man. After all, he was a former priest and the inquisition was an arm of the church. But then again, his people just killed a bunch of inquisitors, so I was inclined to trust him in spite of his background.
“I see…” He said. “And how do you find yourself here? After all, it is not every day that the Boss comes back with a person instead of something of value… Sorry, that sounds bad. What I mean is like money, food or supplies. Something with a monetary value. Like, the Boss doesn’t usually come back with new people instead of money.”
“No, no apologies needed. I know what you meant.” I said. “How I got here was that your friends rescued me from an inquisition patrol that had me locked up in the back of the wagon we came here on. I think they were hoping there was money aboard.”
“And how did you get from being found in the wreckage of your house to being in the back of a locked wagon being led away by the inquisition?”
“Well, you see, after I got out of the hospital, I was taken in by the mayor, but because of how I was found, he notified the inquisition. So they came and picked me up after I had gotten better. It just so happened that your friends thought they were tax collectors that brings me here now.”
“I see… Well, that allays my curiosity… For now. Let me just ask you one final question. Are you prone to headaches?”
“Uh… Yes actually. How did you know?”
“For now, let’s just say it’s because I’m a healer. See you later, Tyr.”
Well, that was ominous.
What do you mean ominous?
He pumps you for information about how you came to be locked up in the back of a cart driven by the inquisition and then already knows you have problems with headaches? He knows something. Something he was not willing to share with you.
You think so? I’m not so sure. If I just found out there was a new member of a gang I was a part of, I think I would be curious too.
There is curious and there is prying. He seemed very interested in your background. After all, how many of these people’s backgrounds have you asked a thorough accounting of?
Just his I guess. But we were just making polite conversation.
No, YOU were just making polite conversation, he was taking advantage of your wanting to fit in and appear friendly to pump you for information.
I think you are being a bit paranoid. He just finished stitching up a friend who was hurt in an attempt to save me. He’s bound to be curious.
I think you are being a bit credulous. This won’t be the last time someone here asks you too many questions about your background. Mark my words.
Well, I will stay wary then, if only to keep you
“I don’t doubt you didn’t. After all, this camp wasn’t what I expected when I found it either.”
“Oh when did you come here?” I asked.
“Oh five or so years ago. I was an initiate in the church learning how to be a healer. Unfortunately, I read a few things I wasn’t supposed to, there was a misunderstanding and I decided it was time to seek my fortune elsewhere.”
“You didn’t set out to be a bandit then?” I asked.
“Hah, no. Sort of an odd profession to aim for as a priest and a healer.”
“I guess,” I replied. I was not sure how to respond to that.
“But why are you here, if you don’t mind me asking?” Said Ross.
“Well, um, yeah…” I stammered again. “I grew up at my parents’ farm in Forsburg. There was an accident involving some inquisitors and… Well, there isn’t anything for me to return to now.”
“I’m sorry to hear that. But if you don’t mind me prying, what was the accident?”
“I don’t… I mean that… Well… I’m told everything exploded. I was apparently found amidst the wreckage. There was… nothing left…” I’m not sure why I was being so open about this with the man. After all, he was a former priest and the inquisition was an arm of the church. But then again, his people just killed a bunch of inquisitors, so I was inclined to trust him in spite of his background.
“I see…” He said. “And how do you find yourself here? After all, it is not every day that the Boss comes back with a person instead of something of value… Sorry, that sounds bad. What I mean is like money, food or supplies. Something with a monetary value. Like, the Boss doesn’t usually come back with new people instead of money.”
“No, no apologies needed. I know what you meant.” I said. “How I got here was that your friends rescued me from an inquisition patrol that had me locked up in the back of the wagon we came here on. I think they were hoping there was money aboard.”
“And how did you get from being found in the wreckage of your house to being in the back of a locked wagon being led away by the inquisition?”
“Well, you see, after I got out of the hospital, I was taken in by the mayor, but because of how I was found, he notified the inquisition. So they came and picked me up after I had gotten better. It just so happened that your friends thought they were tax collectors that brings me here now.”
“I see… Well, that allays my curiosity… For now. Let me just ask you one final question. Are you prone to headaches?”
“Uh… Yes actually. How did you know?”
“For now, let’s just say it’s because I’m a healer. See you later, Tyr.”
Well, that was ominous.
What do you mean ominous?
He pumps you for information about how you came to be locked up in the back of a cart driven by the inquisition and then already knows you have problems with headaches? He knows something. Something he was not willing to share with you.
You think so? I’m not so sure. If I just found out there was a new member of a gang I was a part of, I think I would be curious too.
There is curious and there is prying. He seemed very interested in your background. After all, how many of these people’s backgrounds have you asked a thorough accounting of?
Just his I guess. But we were just making polite conversation.
No, YOU were just making polite conversation, he was taking advantage of your wanting to fit in and appear friendly to pump you for information.
I think you are being a bit paranoid. He just finished stitching up a friend who was hurt in an attempt to save me. He’s bound to be curious.
I think you are being a bit credulous. This won’t be the last time someone here asks you too many questions about your background. Mark my words.
Well, I will stay wary then, if only to keep you
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