Closing the Distance (2)
I woke to the rustling sound. Working as a mercenary trains you out of deep sleep. The smallest noise yanks you awake. If it doesn't, you die. To stay alive, you have to wake. You have to be able to sleep anywhere. So I kept my body perfectly still and only cracked my eyes open a fraction. The room was dark, but my vision adjusted fast. That was another survival skill you couldn't skip. Because of it, I caught Ar moving quietly, careful not to let her footsteps make a sound.
For a second I wondered if she was trying to run. The thought vanished almost immediately. With my brand on her, leaving without permission was impossible. So I stayed quiet, breathing like someone still lost in sleep, and simply watched.
She needed the bathroom. That was the direction she was heading. But she stopped right outside the door and stared inside. At first I thought something might be wrong in there, then it hit me. She didn't know how to use it. This high-end inn had a toilet setup that was anything but ordinary.
She looked genuinely conflicted. I understood. I'd been just as lost the first time. Whether the inn had eccentric tastes or rich people simply lived like this, I couldn't say. Either way, it had to be confusing if you'd never seen one before.
Ar gave a small shiver. She was clearly in a hurry. Come to think of it, dinner had been greasy. As a slave she'd probably been fed scraps. I should help. If she messed up now, she'd never be able to look me in the eye again.
"Mmm." I made a deliberate noise and sat up. Ar flinched and whipped her head toward me. I ignored it, scratching my stomach as I shuffled over and lit the oil lamp on purpose.
"Ugh. Huh? You need the bathroom too? Hang on. I'll go first."
The whole point was to show her how without making it obvious. That's why I'd lit the lamp. No other reason to bother.
I stepped inside, lifted the lid on the large ceramic jar, and sat. After I finished, I opened the knee-high wooden box beside it. It was packed with sawdust and grain hulls. I dumped everything in, stirred a little, then scooped water from the nearby jug to rinse the jar and poured that in too.
"Oh. Your turn? Close the lid tight when you're done. And don't forget to put the lamp out."
I yawned loudly, stretched, and shuffled back to bed. Only then did Ar slip into the bathroom. Soon came the unmistakable sound. It was pretty raw. Maybe I should have mentioned lining the bottom first? A little more water splashed, then she was out again.
I pretended to be asleep so she wouldn't feel awkward. The lamp clicked off. She lay down quietly. A tiny sigh of relief escaped her, almost too soft to hear.
That should do it, right? I'd taught her without embarrassing her. I felt quietly proud, like I'd cleared a tricky quest. Time to sleep again. She could handle the bathroom on her own now.
Morning. No matter how hard I try to sleep in, it never works. Once the sun rises and the world starts moving, the noise pulls me awake whether I want it to or not. It's less like waking and more like my senses snapping to attention, catching every sound. Horses neighing, angry shouts, a woman's scream, children's laughter. A peaceful morning. Must be what the capital is like. Nothing in the noise suggested danger, so I sat up and stretched until my joints popped.
"Sleep well?"
When I looked over, Ar was already awake, sitting on the bed and watching me intently. I'd expected her to sleep late, but she was already on full alert. Still, she looked softer than yesterday. Less anxious. Maybe the uneventful night had helped. Or the fact that I hadn't touched her. It could even have been the bathroom incident. Whatever the reason, it was progress. We were closing the distance, bit by bit.
"Before we leave the capital, I need to buy you proper clothes."
She was still wearing the rags from the slave auction and that oversized robe. The weather wasn't freezing, but I couldn't let her walk around like that. She deserved to be dressed properly.
We gathered our few belongings and stepped outside. My mercenary outfit was obvious at a glance. Beside me walked a small figure with her hood pulled low. We headed for the busy streets. Shops had just opened, but I wasn't sure where to go. Buying for myself would have been easy. Buying for a girl Ar's size was new territory.
I skipped the regular clothing stores. Instead we went to an adventurer supply shop. Since we'd be fighting, normal clothes would be useless anyway. We needed something tough and durable that could take a beating. The shop had plenty. They were more about protection than style, but that suited mercenaries just fine. They were all roughly the same.
I picked pieces that looked like they'd fit her and handed them over, nodding toward the changing room. From under the hood, red eyes peeked up at me. The expression seemed to ask where she was supposed to change.
"What!? She's a slave!?"
The shopkeeper suddenly scowled and shouted. It was early, so the store was empty. Thank goodness. But did he have to be so loud?
"Damn it! Bad luck right from opening! How dare a slave just walk in here!? As my first customer!? Get out! What kind of filth is this!?"
My face probably went rigid. I was pissed. I knew slavery came with prejudice, but to throw a tantrum when someone came to spend money? Was he serious?
I was about to snap back when I saw Ar's face. Her already pale skin had gone ghostly white. Being reminded so brutally that she was a slave had clearly shattered the fragile comfort I'd built last night. All that progress, gone.
I sighed. If I lost my temper and fought this idiot, things would only get worse. Besides, even I could tell it would be childish. The situation wasn't going to resolve cleanly.
So I smiled. The owner stopped yelling and just glared. At least he had some survival instinct. If he'd kept screaming, I would have crushed him.
"Shopkeep. That leather armor there. The one labeled as Karak hide upper plate."
His eyes twitched when I pointed.
"You've got the nerve to charge ten thousand marcas for it, but that's not Karak hide."
"Wh-what!? What are you babbling about!?"
"The sheen is wrong. Real Karak doesn't have those fine vertical striations. That's probably Luton hide. An upper plate that size in Luton would run you about five hundred marcas."
The owner's face paled. Pathetic. Getting rattled over this much?
"That cloak's the same. Not Halic feathers, are they? They look close, but those are Luruku. Same family, so they're similar, but the texture is off. That cloak isn't worth a tenth of what you're asking."
His lips trembled. He clearly wanted to argue, but the evidence was right there on display.
"Think about it. You've already had your bad luck for the day. If someone with a worse temper than me had bought that junk and come back complaining, you wouldn't have gotten off so easily, would you?"
"Th-that's... I didn't know! I bought them in good faith!"
"Sure. I'll believe that. So how about we handle this quietly? I'm not refusing to pay for what I actually want."
I placed a few imperial gold coins on the counter. They clinked pleasantly. The owner stared at them.
"Shall I leave?"
"...Fine."
He swept the coins into his palm. Smart choice. No point making enemies or turning red in the face. Why bother?
"Ar. Go change."
She hesitated, then gathered the clothes and slipped into the changing room. The owner and I were left in awkward silence until another customer walked in. He practically fled toward them in relief.
A short while later Ar emerged. Loose pants and shirt, layered with leather armor, a leather helm, and a gorget that covered her neck. With her ears and tail completely hidden, no one would immediately recognize her as a beastperson. The neck guard would hide the slave brand too.
"Looks good on you. Let's go."
She followed, still a little hesitant, like she wanted to say something but had missed her chance.
"Sell lots!"
We left the shop with that polite farewell. It had been a solid way to handle things. No need to cause a scene, especially not in the heart of the empire.
"Oh, right. Ar. Do you use weapons?"
She shook her head.
Typical for beastpeople. At least that saved money on gear.
"Then how do you fight? Do your hands change? Since you're a fox beastperson?"
She looked slightly embarrassed. It was kind of cute.
"Ah. Maybe not the best place to show me. My bad. You can show me later."
We headed for the carriages. If we wanted to reach monster territory, we'd have to travel far beyond the capital. There was no reason for magic beasts to spawn near a major city. That was why the merchant earlier had been so openly fraudulent.
The carriage rattled along. It was a lazy afternoon. The imperial highways were well maintained, but this carriage was bottom-tier with zero shock absorption. Couldn't be helped. We weren't exactly in a position to hire a luxury six-horse rig.
After a while, Ar, who had been sitting primly beside me, poked my side. When I turned, she glanced around cautiously, then quickly transformed her right hand. What had been a normal human hand became a fox's paw complete with sharp claws. It happened in an instant. She turned away again like nothing had occurred.
Ha. Why is she so adorable? Still, it was good to see. Treating her well had been worth it. She'd come far enough to show me something like this.