Chapter 3 - Calm before the storm (4)

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"I don't know," he said, shaking his head.

"Of course I'm luckier than you, my mom is still alive," said Toth, oblivious to his own hurtful comment. "Thanks Roran!"

He squeezed Roran's shoulder then shuffled back over to the small huddle where his mom was sleeping on the ground. Roran chewed on his lip, anxious. Toth wasn't the brightest person and he tended to run head first into things without thinking.

Years ago, when they were children, Toth and Roran had been playing in the woods and came across a beehive. Toth had wanted to harvest honey from the hive. Roran had warned him against it but Toth wouldn't listen. He had insisted that he was smarter than a bunch of stupid bees and grabbed the biggest stick he could find. Roran had asked Toth to let him start a fire and smoke the bees out first, like his mother had shown him once.

Toth had waved away the notion and told him to stop being a coward. Then, getting a running start, Toth charged the beehive and smacked it as hard as he could. Before Toth could manage a second swing, to break open the hive and grab some honeycomb, hundreds of bees had swarmed out and attacked them.

Toth had gone running, screaming and swatting at the bees as they stung him. A few had attacked Roran but he'd simply jumped into a nearby stream and hid underwater until the bees calmed down. Roran had found Toth an hour later, covered in bee stings and exhausted from running and crying. Roran had to help him home, where Kamil screamed at him and told him to stay away from her child, accusing him of being a bad influence.

That had been several years ago but Toth hadn't grown any smarter since. He was still as impulsive and childish as ever. Roran was tempted to go over and try talking to him but he was still exhausted from his evening with Kell and Chase. Approaching Toth also came with the risk of waking Kamil and bearing her wrath.

Roran decided to address it after some sleep, when he could think more clearly and might be able to avoid Kamil and the others. He laid back down and let sleep claim him.

When he woke again, it was to the sound of the door banging open. A warden and a clerk were standing outside with the provisions cart. Murrin was speaking with the clerk, the favors shimmering in his hand.

"We'd like to get extra rations with these," he said.

"One favor per ration," said the clerk.

"Come now sir, we have a meager supply of favors, couldn't you work something out for us."

"One favor per ration, take it or leave it."

"But our young soldier risked his life for you people," said Murrin, pleading. "He braved the arena for a handful of favors. The boy is practically a hero, surely you could show a little mercy on us. For him?"

The clerk shrugged. "Everybody gets the same offer. I don't set the prices."

"Very well," said Murrin, deflating. "We'll take two extra rations." He handed over two of the little blue coins and the warden tossed two more bags of rations into the dungeon.

"Oh," said Murrin, "I almost forgot, what about this?" He pulled out the little coin Chase had given to Roran. The clerk eyed it for a moment then frowned.

"You can't buy anything with that, it's barely worth anything."

"Ah," said Murrin. "It was a little trifle we picked up on the way here. Why don't you take it as a token of our good will?"

The clerk shrugged and pocketed the coin. Murrin bowed as the clerk and the warden retreated from the dungeon. Once the door was re-locked, and the provisions cart hauled away, Kamil and Denali began passing out the rations, giving a little extra to everyone now that they had some to spare.

"None for the boy," said Murrin, dropping the helpless refugee act. "He doesn't get any today."

The two women glanced over at Roran but neither said anything, simply nodding their acquiescence. Roran didn't bother arguing. He wasn't even angry anymore. Being angry required energy and he was still exhausted from the previous day's events. Besides, he'd eaten better yesterday than anyone down here had eaten in months. He couldn't complain if they got a few extra pieces of moldy bread and rancid jerky.

Thinking of the food made Roran's mouth water. He wanted real food again. He wanted fresh air again. He wanted to see the sky again. Chase and Kell were right, he'd already made up his mind, he was going back. Back to the surface, back to the arena. Even if it cost him his life, he wanted to stand under the sun one more time.

Just surviving wouldn't be enough though. If he wanted to join Kell, and take advantage of her skills and resources, he would have to fight and kill. The thought gave Roran goosebumps. Just watching people die had been bad enough, having to do that himself would be horrible.

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