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He didn’t like going there. Even if he got something, others would try to steal it, and even if he kept it, he was no good at making fire. That was always Peter’s job. Getting someone to cook a raw potato or corn for him would mean at least half of it kept as payment. Anything’s better than nothing, though.
He made his way toward the eastern gate and turned a corner to see three older boys fighting in the alley. A piece of cake hit the ground not far ahead of him. One boy snarled like a dog and charged after it before another tackled him from behind. Scab retreated. He’d have to take a diversion and miss the first few carts, but getting mixed up with older boys wouldn’t end well.
Several turns on, the route straightened, and two men staggered toward him. Head down, Scab hugged the side of the alleyway, splinters of wood pulling on his rags as he slid along the shacks. He fell on his arse after he’d hit what felt like a wall.
“Move, you stupid little prick.” The man rubbed his chest while the other laughed, “I’m gonna have a bruise there.”
The man kicked, but Scab scurried backwards to dodge it.
“Leave him alone,” the other man said. “You let him walk into you.”
“I’ll walk into you in a minute if you don’t shut up.”
Scab grabbed a small piece of wood several inches long and imagined himself as the blue-eyed killer from the alleyway. He clenched the wood, sprang up, and swung at the man.
The man shouted and backhanded Scab to the ground. “You little cunt!”
The wood hadn’t even broken the skin on his neck.
The first kick to Scab’s head drowned out all the sound. The second turned out the lights.
The smell of sewage came in strong waves as Silas negotiated the maze of alleyways. Most locals had paid little attention to him. Only a pair of thugs hassled him, but an elbow to the bigger one’s nose had the other run away.
He reached the eastern gate as the sun hovered above the city walls, ready for its descent. Hordes of people jostled along the edges of the muddy track. Two helmeted guards in polished silver batted those who came too close to the gate with their truncheons. Those two must have pissed off someone to be assigned here.
The shouting increased until the noise resembled an angry swarm of bees. Fights broke out, and those thrown onto the track were denied their place and pushed further away from the gate. Several teenagers on a shack roof fired stones into the crowd with their slingshots, no doubt the cause of several fights.
One guard banged his truncheon on the gate as he shouted, “Get back.”
The hum of the swarm increased as people pushed toward the gate and into the track, leaving barely enough room for the approaching cart. The guards swung their truncheons and shouted at the crowd.
A wide-eyed teenage boy atop the cart clutched the reins of the two mules. Despite the guard’s attempts, neither the driver nor the mules made a move until one guard stepped back and dragged on a mule’s noseband. The driver whipped the reins, and the cart inched into the crowd.
The track around the cart closed as the driver tossed out potatoes from a sack on his bench. That’s not going to be enough, kid. They want the rest. The large wooden crate behind the driver was stuffed full, covered, and tied down, but as Silas watched, the crowd pulled on the ropes and rocked the cart. People climbed up and slashed at the cover. The driver tried to push them away, but one large man threw him into the crowd.
The cart disappeared from view as people climbed over each other to claim their prize while others fought over the mules. The guards stood on the opposite side of the closed gates. Can’t blame them. These people are animals.
It didn’t take the crowd long to empty the cart and take the mules. Three-quarters of the hoarders had dispersed, leaving what looked like the weakest of the weak.
A girl ran to the lifeless body of the driver, baby in tow. She wailed, pounded her fists in the dirt, and swung violently at those who came to her.
Young family torn apart by their own kind. Life’s about to become a lot harder for you, young lady. You’ll be sucking cock for Red Mist in a matter of weeks.
The guards creaked the gates open to allow through a line of a dozen carts. They were quickly approached by the beggars, but this time not impeded. Silas scanned over the remains of the crowd before he resumed his search through the alleyways.
The sun provided its last moments of illumination as he wound back toward his exit. This boy had better turn up soon. I’ve been here long enough.
“I should’a killed the bastard.” A heavy, weather-beaten man rubbed his neck.
Silas pulled into the shadows.
“He had you good and proper.” A slight man sat next to him and chuckled.
“You should’a told me he was coming, you prick.” The weather-beaten man took a big gulp from a wooden cup, dark liquid dripping from his chin.
“Didn’t think you needed protectin’ from a kid.” The slight man laughed so hard he leaned sideways.
“If I see him again, I’ll cut him up.”
