FireSweet

A Sign

I was dizzy with power by the time the conclave ended.  I granted Flor a smile for her superb management when I reached the lounge, and drank down one last Firesweet before heading out the door of the compound.  I ignored Vidan’s protest that I shouldn’t leave alone, dropping my mask on the table and throwing the door open in one movement.  I could feel the weak sunshine of the dawn on the right side of my face.  I drew my knives and jogged around the building.  Flint fell into step behind me as I passed the next corner, his rapier rattling in the ill-fitting scabbard most pirates didn’t bother with. 

“You ready for this?” I asked, grinning at him over my shoulder.

He nodded solemnly, fists clenched as he focused on his steps across the common.

“It’s a flat surface,” I said.  “You don’t have anything to trip over but your feet.”

“As you say,” he said without removing his eyes from the ground between my heels and his.

I rolled my eyes and gave up on my attempt at conversation with my wanna-be-bodyguard-turned-student.  Energy still flooded my veins, and I picked up our pace until I heard Flint’s breath become ragged.  I decided to take the fire out of our run, remembering at the last second that the kid would still be needed to move stealthily at the rogue camps.  The early morning light now threw my shadow ahead of us we wove through the forest at the edge of the pirate territory.  I pressed forward, reminding myself that the rogues would be as far from the rest of us as possible, further inland than a true pirate would be. 

I slowed as we approached their living area, noticing the scarred trees and discarded rum bottles that could only be from rogues.  We crept through the forest, my feet making no noise against the earth.  Flint on the other hand, was my opposite.  His every foot seemed to find a twig or patch of dead leaves.  His hands scratched against the tree trunks.  I felt my temper snap in an instant.

“Flint!  NOW is the time to watch your feet!  Do you have any notion of the word “stealth”?  A wounded hippo would be quieter than you are right now!  For the Griffin’s sake, walk on your toes, balance your weight before stepping, anything!”

“Sorry,” he muttered.  “I’ll do better.”

“You do that,” I muttered.  “You keep lookout for the rogues as they return from the conclave.  I’ll find something to send our message.”

I left Flint and forged ahead through the trees, looking for any place that would serve as the center of camp.  There were no obvious clearings, no convenient flags displayed or common piles of….anything really.  The rogues were true individualists.  I had to look harder than at normal camps.  Each pirate had a nest of sorts, a pitiful pile of rags with a weapon or odd ring peering out of the pile.  The rum bottles were thicker around the nests than they were in the rest of the camp, and soon enough I used that to find where the nests were hidden.  Most were in bushes or between tree roots, but some of the pirates had managed to secure everything up in the tree boughs.  

I searched the nests of course, stealing what little could be considered valuable.  A handful of daggers, a few rings, nothing impressive of course.  The results were pitiful, and for a half a second I considered returning the pieces.  Fortunately the sensation only lasted a moment, and I could focus on the task at hand once more. 

“Anything interesting?” Flint asked.

I turned around to glare at my student.  “No, but aren’t you supposed to be acting a lookout?”

“I’m supposed to be “doing better”” he said, a smile playing across his lips.  “And I did that.  I snuck up on you didn’t I?  Besides, what drunken pirate would sprint here like we did?  They wouldn’t make it ten feet.”