Free In Pursuit Of Wisdom (Book 1) by Steve M. Shoemake Page B

approached cautiously.  Still thirty feet away, he tossed his extra waterskin at the knight.  “For you.  I know you’re thirsty.”  Trevor began backing away, keeping his eye on the knight, who might reach for a throwing dagger or something.
    The knight just weakly raised his visor and looked at Trevor.  “This water is poisoned.”
    “It is.”  Trevor had no reason to lie.  “But it will quench your thirst.” “Or you could just leave and let me cross.”
    The knight spit at the ground, but he was so parched that nothing came out, and coughed instead.  “We both know I won’t be doing that.”
    “I figured as much.  I have plenty of water still, and can wait you out.  There is no second watch coming.  You know that.”
    “Aye.  You filthy little thief, you killed a good man.  Were you to come closer, we’d settle this as real men ought.”  The knight stood up straight and lifted his sword, with some effort.  Lack of water and sleep, burdened by his incredibly heavy armor—the knight’s strength was declining.
    “You fool.  You have no idea who you’re working for.  ‘ As real men ought.’  Your insufferable honor is laughable in the employ of the Thief’s Guild.  This is all a game to them—a Test for me.  But sit there and die at your post in whatever way best suits you.  I will surely outlast you.”  Trevor continued to back up, and was nearing the safety point of the bend in the path, out of direct range for any object he might throw.  Pausing, he added, “My gift to you is the waterskin.  It is painless.  You will die with your honor intact, and not from thirst, for whatever that is worth to you.”
    The knight picked up the waterskin and went to throw it into the yawning chasm behind him.  But he didn’t.  He snarled and swallowed hard, his throat scratchy, dry, and raw.  “DAMN YOU THIEF!”  The knight tore open the waterskin and drank lustily.
    Trevor didn’t say a word, he just watched from the shadows, almost pitying the poor knight who chose duty over life.  The fool could have just walked out of here.   A curious choice in this Dark World.  The dutiful knight keeled over dead as he emptied the last of the waterskin.
     
    ***
     
    Finally, his head done dragging up recent memories for the moment, Trevor Blink dozed lightly, Thief’s Sleep taking him at last.
     
    ~Trevor~
     
    Another bird alighted on the branch to which Trevor had fastened himself, and immediately his eyes opened silently.  He was so still on the branch that the small bird didn’t even notice him until it turned its head and froze.  Trevor Blink just stared at the bird, which cocked its head, pooped, and flew off.  I can see that my Thief’s Sleep is done for the night.  What was I thinking about last night again?  He quietly rubbed the sand out of his mis-matched eyes and continued his recollection of the second Test…
     
    ***
     
    The shiny armor glowed in the fading embers of the fallen knight’s small campfire.  If I could drag that armor out of here, it would be worth more than the bag of gold.  But Trevor put the thought quickly out of his mind.  One suit was stuck to the cave floor, and besides, the plate mail would be far too heavy.  He set his mind to the task at hand.
    Stepping over the knight, he went to cross the wooden rope bridge, but paused.  He picked up a nearby large stone about the size of the knight’s head and rolled it onto the bridge.
    It collapsed under even this moderate weight.
    Peering down into the chasm, it took several long seconds before the wood hit bottom.  Too far to climb down and back up.   There was no other crossing; the path through the cave led to this large cavern, and the back of the cavern was this massive crevasse, more than twenty-five feet across.  Too far to jump.   It was clear that the ledge on the other side, with the door, was the only path forward.
    Fortunately the cavern was fairly well lit with torches on the