Hunting Haidians

[Jake Narmolanya]

My tea arrived in the hands of a pretty young waitress, and I took the distraction as a moment to process what had happened. They knew my name, which might imply a dozen things, or might mean almost nothing at all. I took a sip of the brew although it was steaming hot and smiled through scalding lips.

“Incomparable?” I said at last, giving the table another sweep with my lone eye. “I’ve been called many things, but never that.” The Salvic brothers both looked somewhat disgruntled but semi-interested. The women wore mysterious smiles and passed the occasional whisper back and forth behind fine hands. They all seemed content to let the ginger do the talking. He was their leader, not just a loudmouth.

“Well, don’t let it go to your head.” He advised with a grin. “When I stopped you last night, I had no idea who you were - mind you, I was blind drunk, so that’s hardly your fault. But between the others and the rest of the patrons of this fine establishment, we managed to piece together a few stories. About the one eyed half elf who’s hunted as many Haidians as he’s had warm dinners. About the crazy bastard who traded half his sight for a chance to kill a shadow. About the fearless warrior who for some reason, has coward engraved on his arm. You’re more than a little interesting, Jacob.”

“Don’t call me that,” I said reflexively, “everyone calls me Jake.” I gripped my scarred left forearm through my sifan sleeve. “It’s nice to meet you all, I suppose. Is there any particular reason I’m sharing my morning meal with you?”

My food arrived just then, and as it was being served the Fallieni Selima whispered to the half-elf woman, who giggled briefly before stifling the sound and shooting me a quick look. I raised an eyebrow. Did she think me fully blind?

“We’ve been staying here the past several nights, taking offers and considering different jobs.” Marvin explained as I dug into the eggs and potatoes. Rich yellow yolk spilled across the golden fried russets. “To make a tall tale short, we narrowed it down to three possibilities.”

“Only, one of them isn’t possible.” Selima cut in. I looked more closely at the Fallieni woman, past her dark braided hair, and realized she wore nothing except an oversized linen T-shirt. I swallowed a lump in my throat and replaced it with a mouthful of eggs.

“What do you mean?” I asked as I finished chewing, wiping my mouth on my sleeve. “Why consider it if it’s not possible?”

“Well it’s not quite possible,” Marvin said, seeming glad to pull the focus of the group back to him. “At least, not for us. Not alone.”

I raised both my eyebrows this time, a gesture which scrunched my eyepatch uncomfortably. I looked at each of the five hunters in turn and then sipped my tea.

“We can’t do it without you,” Selima said at last, leaning forward so the collar of the shirt dipped and her cleavage displayed generously. “We need a traveler.”