How Not to Poach a Unicorn

Seventeen

The weary band of travellers said their fond farewells to Warlis at the first town they came to.

That is a lie.

Nobody was especially fond of the thief nor did they wish him well. In fact, their parting of ways was filled with threats of the horrible atrocities that would await the man, should he say a single word to anyone about their existence.

To Warlis, however, this was exactly how all of his closest friends said their goodbyes and he left feeling warm and chipper at how much his new friends must trust him as to have not drawn any weapons or searched his person at their parting.

There was a long silence as they watched the burglar wander off into the little town in front of them before Cariolta gained the courage to speak. "Your week is up," said the Princess as coldly as she could, trying to mask her fear and sadness at losing their uncouth protector. "Why aren't you leaving with him?" She didn't even turn to face Prag for fear that he might see through her.

"How do you figure?" Prag's face twisted as if to accuse her of some sort of fraud. "First off, I was paid to protect you for a week. I spent three of those days unconscious on your horse while you walked. That means I have a balance of three days owing, plus the three days you spent caring for my body." Suddenly his face shifted as though he had just swallowed a maggot. "And secondly, if I were to leave, why in the hells would I chose to travel with that man? I don't see a bathhouse in that town, so I don't much expect his aroma to improve until he gets home. Thank you, but I'll stick with the lovely ladies."

"You've no right to complain," grumbled Kazé. "You stink of stale blood. It's making me nauseous."

"Hey, now. That's not fair." Prag pretended to pout as he poked at one of his bandages. "Some of it is still fresh." Then he cackled at some unshared joke and started to wander down the road. "Any of you coming?"

Cariolta let out a silent sigh of relief. She wouldn't admit it, even to herself, but the menagerie that she was walking with had become her family. She couldn't stand the thought of losing her adopted big brother even if he was a wretched uncivilized cutthroat.

She fell into step beside Kish. Kazé scouted around in the grim and focused way that he always did. The boy, the antithesis of Kazé's diligence, ran until he was nearly out of sight, and then ran back as fast as he could, again and again. Prag wandered casually, pretending not to be constantly scanning the area for threats, his hand never leaving the sling of his crossbow.

Cariolta lowered her head so that her porcelain-white face was hidden behind her bonnet and carefully tended locks. Then she let herself smile just a little. For the first time in over two months, she felt safe. She knew it wouldn't last, but she was safe and the flowers were blooming.

Five days of travelling passed quickly. Despite being disguised as a noble lady and her retinue, their disguises were rather weak under close scrutiny. Their hunting dog looked a bit too big for most people's comfort; the servant girl was unfashionably well-armed; and one of the guards didn't have a strong enough grasp of language to fully understand the role he was playing. Instead, he would run about like a puppy let off its lead.

They ate wild game and hares and whatever else they could catch. The boy even learned to hunt. Or rather, he learned to pounce. He became quite adept quite quickly at surprising birds by moving much faster and jumping much higher than proper people should. The birds tended to die very perplexed as to how a human had come down on them from above when they were in flight.

He was little help to anyone but himself, however, as he tended to eat whatever he caught as soon as he caught it. Actually, this was helpful in its own way as very few people of noble upbringing can keep their appetite after seeing a young man bite the head off of a still twitching pigeon.