Compile:Quest

Chapter 4: Give Him Twenty

Izaak's Burrow, Wildebeest Digger Colony,

African Continent

Ray watched as the trader's fat fingers rifled through the tatty wicker basket on the table. Every few seconds Izaak would jerk out a fig, apple or hubbard squash from the basket. It would either fly over his shoulder, landing on a mound of discarded loot, or be placed on a much smaller pile in front of him on the table. 

When the basket was empty, Izaak pushed it back to him. Ray placed it at his feet beside another empty basket. Izaak took a fig from the pile in front of him, burst it open with thumb and forefinger and shoved it into his mouth. The trader stared at Ray while he ruminated.

Izaak sprayed Ray with a few fig seeds as he spoke. "Give you twenty."  

Ray resisted the urge to wipe at his face. "That's half of what you paid me last time." 

"I pay for what you bring. Keep arguin' and it'll be fifteen."

"Twenty's plenty," Ray said hurriedly.

Izaak laughed, expelling more fig-laced spit. "You's a poet and you don't even know it." He dragged a hand over his mouth, smearing juice over his jowls. The trader lifted his hand, flicking his fingers. "Give 'im twenty, Laddie." 

A shadow separated itself from the wall and transformed into the bulk of Laddie. He pushed through a lopsided bead curtain, the delicate clicking noise sounding inapt in the tiny, rancid burrow. 

Ray decided to stare at the festering heap behind Izaak as he waited. It was better than watching the trader eat, an act almost as nauseating as the smell in the room —  most of which came from Izaak's unwashed flesh. Harvested too soon, most of Ray's loot had ended up on the rubbish pile. 

Laddie returned, dropping a leather pouch onto the rusting metal table. Izaak pulled it open, hunted inside and plonked down twenty tokens. Ray grabbed the stack of sticky metal tokens while suppressing a shudder. He retrieved his baskets and rose to his feet. 

"Nothing from Ace today?" Izaak asked, clutching an apple core. When had he had time to eat that? 

Ray shook his head. "Last month's harvest is still curing."

"Pity. He grows some good shit." 

"I'll be sure to bring some by when it's ready." 

Which would be never, knowing Ace. His son despised Izaak and refused to trade with him. Ray's hand was on the door handle when Izaak smacked his lips together and spoke again. 

"The Leider's lookin' at recruiting, you know." 

Ray hesitated. "Ja?" He touched the tokens through the fabric of his shirt pocket.

He heard the sound of another fruit disappearing into the trader's cavernous maw.