Free A Quick Sun Rises by Thomas Rath Page B

sleeping off whatever was the drink of choice the night before. The companions watched as one such figure was rudely awakened when the door he was propped against opened up, dropping his head to the ground with a thud eliciting a slight moan from the drunkard’s lips. But it was the bucket of water that followed that roused the man to sputters and curses as he sluggishly extracted himself from the doorstep while swinging wildly for anyone close enough to feel his wrath.
    Jack stopped and watched the man with the bucket easily duck away from a wild punch before placing his boot on the vagrant’s rear and pushing him out into the street where he landed in a clump at Jack’s feet.
    “Wess?” The man moaned slightly and then kicked out a foot trying to connect with Jack’s leg. Jack caught the foot easily with his own boot and then kicked back hitting the man’s thigh and educing from him another groan. Marching over to the shop keeper, he asked to borrow the man’s bucket and then filled it in a nearby barrel before dumping it on the pitiful creature still sprawled out in the road. The man gasped and, with effort, pushed himself into a sitting position as he tried to open his eyes and focus on his attacker.
    “Show yerself so I can kill ya’,” the man slurred, still trying to force his vision to clear enough to distinguish between the blurry shapes that seemed to dance about his head taunting him.
    “Wess, you old flea bag, it’s Jack.” Jack stood over him now, still keeping clear of any fists that might suddenly lash out but stooped down so the man could get a good look at his face.
    “Jack?” The man sounded confused. “Did I cheat you in cards?”
    Jack laughed. “As a matter of fact, yes you did.”
    The man smiled. “Then you must be a friend,” he slurred, gripping the cobblestones in an effort to steady himself.
    Jack smiled but returned to the water barrel before dumping the bucket on the man’s head again.
    “All right, all right,” the man said, batting at something only he could see.
    Jack squatted down beside him again, this time grabbing the man’s shoulder and shaking him gently. “Wess, what has happened to you?”
    Wess opened his eyes slightly and stared at him for a long moment. “Jack?”
    Jack gave an impatient sigh. “Yes, you dolt, it’s Jack. What are you doing down here sleeping in a doorway?”
    Wess tried to spit in disgust but only managed to drop it on his chin. “That rat king, that’s what I’m doing down here. Takes away my post and then releases every last one of us to fend for ourselves.”
    “The whole company?” Jack asked, the shock obvious in his voice. “But why?”
    Wess started to shake his head but quickly stopped, realizing it threatened his ability to keep himself upright. “Don’t know. Somethin’ ‘bout not needed us anymore now that the trolls were gone.”
    Jack’s face was quite red by now, using all of his strength to hold back the anger that boiled within him.
    Wess suddenly laughed. “I don’t think the king realized what he was doing when he called all of us back from the frontiers and then let the company loose on the city. Crime rate has jumped considerably, I bet.”
    Jack grabbed Wess by the shirt and pulled him close. The stench of ale on him was suffocating but Jack didn’t seem to notice. “Listen to me, Wess, and listen carefully. Do you think you could find your men?”
    “What for?” Wess protested. “I say that Calandra deserves what it gets by them.”
    “I agree,” he growled, “but can you find them?”
    Wess shrugged, his head bobbing slightly from side to side. “I guess, that is, at least those that haven’t found their way to the dungeon.”
    “Good,” Jack said, pulling Wess to his feet and holding him steady. “Now listen to me, and listen straight. You have to remember what I am telling you and do exactly what I say.”
    “What’s this all about?” Wess slurred, the annoyance at being bothered