Continuing on with the posting series using a writing prompt from Janeen Ippolito’s Weird Writing Prompts we will focus on the character Kyle as he attempts to reign in Bryant during one of The Brethren’s typical assignments.
Prompt: It’s midnight on an average night. Where are each of your characters?
The flicker of the candlelight achieved little more than casting undulating shadows across the smudged message. Kyle squinted his eyes and tilted his head to the side. Clucking his tongue, he snatched his satchel by his feet. Digging inside, his hands closed around a small rough leather pouch. Pulling it out he dumped the contents into his hand. A smooth circular crystal slightly cooled the center of Kyle’s palm. From afar someone could have easily mistaken it for a polished rock, that was if it weren’t for the steady glow of light it emanated. Kyle curled his fingers around his stone light and held it up to the parchment scrap. A smile curled up at one corner of his mouth for having beat back the dancing shadows of the candle. Pride quickly dissolved into further annoyance as the legibility of the note did not improve.
A chest rattling snore bounced off the wooden walls behind him. Kyle’s shoulders slumped in defeat. He really should have known better than to keep Aaron on as reconnaissance. Even when sober the man’s handwriting barely scratched out sense. Kyle glanced over his shoulder as another snore sounded. Watching the disheveled mess sprawled out on the floor Kyle shook his head. The man didn’t even make it to his bed this time. By all rights he should just cut Aaron loose, he was more of a liability than anything nowadays. That pesky sense of loyalty in him just wouldn’t allow him to make that call.
The growing thump of steps rushing down the hall sprang an arch of electricity down Kyle’s spine. Cramming the note up his sleeve, he leaned back in his chair and watched the door, left hand tightening around the dagger on his hip. Three heavy raps pounded on their room.
“Open up! We got a problem.” Malachi’s panic fought against his whisper.
Kyle clenched his jaw and stood from his chair. With a few quick strides he unlatched the door and pulled his half-brother inside.
“What happened? Where’s Bryant?”
“That’s the problem, he’s trying to pick a fight downstairs.”
Kyle cursed between his teeth, “You had one job Malachi! Water down his drinks! We can’t afford drawing attention right now.”
Malachi bristled but before he could defend himself, Kyle pushed past him and jogged downstairs to the tavern below. Before he was halfway down, he could already hear Bryant’s slurred roar growling at the other patrons.
“Enough of that now, you lost fair and square. If you couldn’t afford it, then you shouldn’t have joined!”
“Lying scoundrels, the lot of you!” a loud clatter accompanied Bryant’s indignation.
Kyle suppressed a groan. Bounding into the room his eyes caught sight of a gaggle of men circling around one of the tables. A chair lay overturned on the floor alongside a few playing cards. Thankfully not many patrons were left at this late hour, but still word of a late-night brawl was the last thing they needed spreading through town. Eyes darting around the room, Kyle assessed the quality of character the tavern currently hosted. Rough hands, sun worn skin, muddied boots, and fraying fabric; not the time for eloquent speeches on honor.
“Coin it is then.” Kyle mutter to himself
Plastering on a genial smile, Kyle added a slight bounce and playfulness to his stride. Pressing through the tight crowd Kyle’s fingers lightly swept about. By the time he reached the center he had already snagged three separate coin purses.
“Ah, gentlemen what seems to be the problem here?”
Bryant’s towering form took a teetering half spin in recognition of Kyle’s voice. “I’m being robbed.” He snarled out.
Kyle put a hand on Bryant’s arm, helping to regain the man’s steadiness. In the same motion he dropped two of the three pouches into either of Bryant’s pockets. His cohort didn’t even notice.
“He’s just sour that I trounced him.” A man half Bryant’s height with beady black eyes tipped up his chin.
The others around him gave slight nods of agreement with puffed out chests and clenched fists. The innkeeper stood amongst them, his muscles fighting for freedom from his graying tunic. The mustached that covered his upper lip quivered under the blasts of air from his nostrils.
“So this beast belongs to your lot. I told you when you checked in I had no room for trouble makers.”
Bryant attempted a step forward but Kyle planted a firm hand on the man’s chest and held him in place, “And I intend to abide by that deal. How much?” He held up the third stolen coin purse.
“Now wait a minute, I’m not paying-” Bryant’s protest shut off abruptly as Kyle’s elbow gave him a quick jab to the solar plexus.
The Innkeeper crossed his arms “30 pieces.”
Kyle’s eye twitched but he kept his smile intact “Come again?”
“He clearly broke my chair.”
Kyle glanced down at the very much unharmed piece of furniture. “Clearly.”
The muscles in his jaw flinched but he opened the leather pouch and counted out ten silver coins. The amount was at least a hundredfold that driftwood’s worth. A greedy glint danced in the owner’s eye as Kyle passed off the hush money.
“And what about us?” whined the beady-eyed man.
“Is the amount my friend owes not already on the table?” Kyle cocked an eyebrow.
“Maybe it is, maybe it isn’t.”
“Then by all means!” No one was sober enough to catch the glint in Kyle’s eyes as he rounded back to Bryant and brazenly removed the second stolen coin purse from Bryant’s pocket.
Teeth bared in a wicked grin, Kyle pulled the drawstring loose and dumped the contents out on the table. “That about cover it?”
“Eh, I don’t know.”
“Don’t be greedy Gibs.” The equally greedy Innkeeper chided.
“Fine, fine. Just take your man with you and get him to sleep it off. No need for broken bones tonight.”
“Much obliged to you gentlemen.” Kyle dipped his head then hooked an arm under Bryant’s, awkwardly dragging his buddy with him.
Reaching the security of their room once more, Kyle dumped Bryant into the chair he left by the table. Bryant crumpled onto the table, only half awake. Kyle reached back into Bryant’s pocket and snagged the final stolen pouch for himself. As far as he was concerned, he deserved some extra payment for having to babysit this lot.