The Thief and Prince

Chapter 17: No Regrets

"Take the first sip then," Amiri says skeptically, raising a dark eyebrow. Darko smirks and takes three long gulps before coming back for air. "Give it here then," he says, holding out his hand. He tilts his head back causing his long hair that he usually keeps in a braid to fall loosely over his shoulders and blows in the evening breeze.

"Do you honestly trust this man?" Laria asks him, sounding shocked.

Amiri eyes the slaver, taking in his large burly figure who is clad in leather armor. "About as far as I can throw him. But considering he did just take the first drink and I'd say tonight calls for a moment to celebrate, why not," he says with a shrug before handing her the waterskin. She turns her nose away causing him to frown.

His hazel gazes then focuses on me. "Cora? Don't make me drink alone," he encourages, jiggling the container. I hear it slosh inside the container and I sigh, grabbing it from his hand. If the four of use deserve anything, I'd say one night worry free enjoying each other's company isn't so much to ask for.

Unscrewing the cap, I tilt my head back and drink the liquid, enjoying the taste of ale for once. "That's good," I say, wiping my mouth on my wrist and handing it to Crispin, "What's in it?"

Darko gives a soft smile and begins twisting his thick beard into a braid. "It's blueberry ale from Corrine that we got a while back. Loved it so much it's just about the only thing I will drink," he tells me.

"Hmph, a slaver with a knack for fine wine," Laria mutters.

He rolls his eyes and continues working on his beard. "What, do you expect us to drink the tears of children and the blood of our enemies?" he asks sarcastically.

Laria purses her lips, her eyes tightening. "Something like that."

Crispin takes a long sip before handing it back to Darko. As for me, I can already feel the effects after a few moments pass considering I haven't eaten that much today. A potent sweet ale is a combination asking for trouble so I make a mental note to pace myself.

"So what's your story, Darko," Amiri asks, mocking his name. "Where do you hail from?"

"Well, my family used to live in Kovia until the pox hit us, wiping everyone but my brother and myself out. We never got along so rather than living together in an empty house, I left home and tried to make an honest living as a blacksmith. Thing was, I'm a poor black smith," he says with a chuckle, "I then drifted trying to find work where I could until Jasper found me in a farmer's market, said he specialized in horse thieving and that it'd paid well. We did that for a few months until we met a Rorik on the road who said that they were looking for workers, promising that the money would be worth the trouble. Ran with him ever since," he finishes.

"You say you don't like slaving? Why stick with it? Was it really worth the money?" Crispin asks, sitting up and resting his elbows on top of his knees, "Handing all those people over and sentencing to a life of captivity?"

Darko shrugs, tying the braid in his beard off with a silver clasp. His grey eyes focusing on the dancing flames of the fire. "At first it was. But after a year of watching people being auctioned off it started getting old and weighing on my heart. In truth, I was looking for a way out but anyone that tries to leave gets killed. Can't risk the nature of the business I suppose," he says. "So I did what I could to make it bearable. I made sure to treat those we caught with respect and show compassion when able if that meant that their lives were somewhat easier, even if it was for a short while."

"Sounds like you were somewhat of a slave yourself," I state, the words leaving my lips before I can stop them. "Sorry," I say, averting my gaze."

He gives a nod and a grin, "That's one way of putting it lass."