《Isekai Dungeoncrawl - Am Ende mit meinem Latein》36. Campfire talk

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“Can I have some of that?” I gestured towards the pheasant. “I have missed breakfast.”

“Help yourself.”

We ate.

“Took me a while to find you,” I mumbled between two bites.

“That was the idea.”

“I would have gone by your tent, if not for the fire.”

“One has to eat.”

He looked around. I offered him my waterskin.

“With rum?”

“With rum.”

“Rhodarr's recipe.”

“Helps with the scent. Smells less like feet.”

“And more like rum.”

We let the silence stretch.

“I saved your life,” I said at last.

“And I saved yours.”

“But now you are an intolerable arsehole.”

He shrugged.

“I lost everything. Everything I knew. Everything that ever mattered to me. So why should I care about you? Why should I care about anyone?”

“Fair point.”

“You have no answer?”

“There is no answer.”

He chewed angrily. Then handed the last thigh to me.

“I am full.”

“Should I care?”

“I guess, not.”

“You are not a good man, Arnold. You are one of the worst I have ever seen.”

“Maybe.”

“So why should I go back with you?! Why not cut your throat, and leave your body to the wolves?!”

I had no answer.

The silence stretched and stretched. Jim didn't reach for his sword.

“What do you want from me?”

I shrugged.

“I used to know what I want. Just a month ago, everything was so clear. I wanted to be rich. I wanted to be respected. I wanted to answer questions no one else could. I wanted to be your and Beldrak's friend. But nowadays... I just want to sleep. Cut my throat, if you want. You will be doing both of us a favour.”

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He shook his head, disgustedly.

“You make me sick.”

“We both made ourselves sick.”

He stood up and started to disassemble his tent. I helped him.

“What did the mayor say?”

“They don't know whether our map is correct. The people of Blessingdale never bothered to find the ork fortress. They are content chasing away their raiders.”

“Idiots.”

“That's what I thought. Most of these people aren't soldiers. They won't risk their skin until they have to.”

“Anything useful from the prisoner?”

“Not much. There are twenty orks, maybe, but they are never at home at the same time.”

“They are all warriors?”

“That's what we gathered. The orks use the place as an outpost, but their tribe dwells someplace else. The leader of the raiders is called Great Jules. He is their champion, their strongest and toughest warrior. His second is Old Lucas. Lucas was the leader before Jules beat him in a duel.”

“Did he tell about the location of the fortress?”

“He told us we were going to recognise it, and refused to speak another word.”

“He wasn’t very helpful.”

“Even this little took a lot of convincing. Other than that, we paid Rhodarr for ten days, so he will wait at least that much.”

“Do we have enough food? If we are going to be bogged down in the fortress, I won't have time to hunt.”

“Beldrak bought rations.”

The tent was neatly packed away, and the fire extinguished. Jim put on his backpack and looked at me. He didn't move.

“Can we go now?”

“You are a snake, Arnold. A scorpion.”

“That again? I have never bitten you.”

“How do I know you never will?”

It was all so tiring. I just wanted to lie down.

“You don't. Can we go now?”

Jim spat out. “Lead the way.”

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