Gutter Rats: Origins Chapter 3

The next two weeks were filled with training. Quyloc had never been so tired in his life. They ran, often wearing heavy chain mail and helmets, or carrying bags of sand. They learned how to fight with swords, axes, halberds, spears, maces. They trained with shields and without. They learned hand-to-hand combat and wrestling. They started early in the morning and didn’t finish until almost dark.

One day when they were taking a break to drink some water, Kerv asked Tairus. “Why are you pushing us so hard? My cousin did four years in the army. He said you mostly just stand around.”

Surprisingly, instead of ignoring him or telling him to shut it, Tairus called the squad together. There were ten of them. Looking around to make sure no one nearby could hear them, he said, “I tell you this, I don’t want it spread around, you hear?” Nods and affirmations came from all around. “Captain Lepold thinks we’ll see action this spring, summer at the latest.”

That got their attention. “Where?”

“The Crodin nomads have been raiding towns and villages on our southwestern border again. We’re meant to clear them out, chase them into the Gur al Krin if we can.”

Kerv’s eyes got very wide. “The Gur al Krin?”

“Yep.”

“Where the firestorms are?”

“Yep.”

“Can I volunteer for something else?”

“It doesn’t work like that.”

Kerv sagged. “Cripes.”

Quyloc had heard of the Gur al Krin, where supposedly sandstorms could catch on fire and turn into firestorms. The Crodin believed the storms were caused by demons they called sklath. He’d overhead two men talking about the place one day when he was hiding from the city watch under a porch.

“I heard the Crodin torture you if they capture you,” Dravit said.

“Why’d you have to go and say that?” Kerv moaned. “You’re only making it worse.”

“They cut out your tongue first. Then it’s off with your bird eggs. Hot pokers in your eyes.”

“Shut up, Dravit,” Tairus said. “No one here is getting captured by the Crodin. The Captain wants to make sure we’re ready, so we don’t have a repeat of last summer’s action against Thrikyl. He’s still mad about that.”

“What happened?” Glane wanted to know.

“A complete storm of shit. Supplies that never showed. Lack of discipline. Conflicting battle plans.” He shook his head in disgust. “Those noble generals don’t know the pointy end of a sword from their own assholes. Their stupidity got a lot of men killed.”

“The Captain won’t let that happen, right?”

“There’s nothing he can do if the orders come down except to follow them. Unless he wants to face the rope. But he can make sure the men of Eagle Company can fight. That’s what he means to do.”

Rome spoke up. “I can’t wait.” He was sincere, too.

Kerv looked at him in horror. “What’s wrong with you?”

Rome laughed. “Lots of things. You got some time?”

“Remember, don’t spread the word. Now let’s get back to work.”

 

“Do you really think we’re heading to the Crodin border?” Quyloc asked Rome after they were done training for the day and were cleaning up at the water barrel.

Rome shrugged. “I don’t know. I don’t think it’s a soldier’s job to know. But I hope so.”

“Why?”

“I’ve never been anywhere but Qarath. I’ve only been outside the walls once in my whole life. I want to see this burning desert.”

“I don’t want a Crodin arrow in me.”

Rome chuckled. “You worry too much. I’ll look out for you.”

Quyloc didn’t see how looking out would stop an arrow, but he didn’t pursue it further. Rome was infuriating when he insisted on seeing the good side of things.

Glane hurried by. “What are you two standing around for? Don’t you know it’s payday?”

Rome’s face lit up. “Payday. They’re actually going to pay us. When was the last time someone just gave us money?”

Quyloc shook his head. “They’re not just giving it to us. We earn it by risking our lives fighting who they tell us to fight.”

“Listen to you. You could squeeze the yellow out of canary. Aren’t you a little excited about having some coin to spend?”

Actually, Quyloc was. He knew where he was going to spend it too, not that he was planning on sharing that info with anyone.

They stood in line and waited while the paymaster checked each id card against his master list, then counted out the coins and had each man sign.

It wasn’t a lot of pay, but Quyloc had never possessed that much at any time in his life. He started thinking about buying a stout coin purse, something he’d never needed before.

Their sleeping quarters were loud. The rest of the squad was going out drinking, and they were digging out their least-dirty shirts and talking and laughing. Naturally, Rome’s was the loudest voice in the room.

But when they headed for the door, Quyloc didn’t get off his cot.

“What’re you doing?” Rome asked with a frown.

“I’m not going drinking, that’s what I’m doing.” Quyloc never touched alcohol. It dulled your senses, made you slow and stupid. Very bad for survival.

“I know you don’t like drinking, but there’s still food and other things.” He winked. “Like women.”

“Still no.” Quyloc had no interest in women. He trusted them even less than men. No way was he giving them any of his money.

Rome shook his head. “You’re a strange one, Quyloc. I’ve always said that.”

“Yes. You have.” Quyloc hated when he said that.

“It’s your choice. I’ll see you later.” Rome headed out the door.

Quyloc made sure they had cleared the front gate before he left the barracks. The soldier on duty at the gates let him pass without comment.

Quyloc saw the squad up ahead, walking down the street toward an area known for bars and night spots. He went the opposite direction. As he walked, he kept checking his pocket to make sure no coins had fallen out, sure each time he’d find them missing.

He’d cleaned up as best he could, but he wasn’t sure it would be enough. Where he was going, if he looked like a gutter rat, he’d get the city watch called on him.

The neighborhood around him gradually improved. The streets were wider, cleaner, and well-lit. The people out walking weren’t in a hurry, heading to or from work. They were dressed well and out for the evening. Not well like a nobleman or a rich merchant, but clean, well-made clothes without holes, and shiny shoes, also without holes. They were probably artisans and craftsmen for the most part, along with some lesser merchants.

Quyloc felt very out of place in his army boots, tunic and trousers. He tried his best to look invisible, but he saw at least one couple shy away from him, the woman putting a kerchief over her nose.

But he saw no city watch, and he made it to the shop he was looking for without hassle.

Unfortunately, there was a guard at the door. Many of the better shops had them to deal with people just like him.

The guard took one look at him and placed a hand on the club at his waist. “Walk away, and I won’t club you.”

Normally, that would be more than enough to send Quyloc in the other direction. But his need was great.

“I have money.” He showed the coins.

“Where’d you steal those?”

“I didn’t steal them. I earned them. I’m a soldier.”

The guard made a disgusted sound. “Then they will take anyone, and our nation will fall soon.”

“Let me in. I don’t need long.”

“What would a rat like you want with a book? You can’t read.”

“Does it matter?”

“You’re filth. The good folk of this town don’t want you here. Go away before I take those coins and turn you into the watch.”

Angry and discouraged, Quyloc turned away. He hated being treated like he was nothing. Someday he’d be something, and then he’d show them all.

“Private Quyloc, right?”

Quyloc looked up to see a familiar face. It was the quartermaster. He wasn’t in uniform, but was wearing breeches and a long coat with brass buttons. Quyloc saluted. “Yes, sir.”

The quartermaster looked over Quyloc’s shoulder. “Were you trying to go into that bookstore?”

Quyloc scowled. “Yes.”

“The guard wouldn’t let you in.”

“No,” Quyloc said sullenly. He didn’t want to talk to this man. Why wouldn’t he just leave Quyloc alone?

“Why is it so important to you to learn how to read?” The man sounded genuinely curious.

Quyloc snapped out his answer before he could stop himself. “Because I don’t know anything, and I hate it. I don’t want to go through life like that. I want to know.” He didn’t mention the rest, how badly he wanted to understand the strange things he sensed around him and inside him. He needed to know for his own survival. Perhaps his own sanity.

Quyloc tensed for the mockery that was sure to come now. But the quartermaster simply nodded and said, “What if I buy the book for you?”

Quyloc blinked, suddenly confused. “You’d…do that?”

“Yes.”

“Why?” Maybe it was a plan to steal his money. Probably it was. Quyloc couldn’t think of any other reason.

“Because I want to help you learn to read.”

Quyloc stepped back and looked around. Was someone sneaking up on him? But around him were only shoppers and people going about their evening. The quartermaster was just standing there, watching him.

“Why?”

“Because I think more people should know how to read. I’d be willing to tutor you.”

Quyloc’s head was spinning. In the real world, people didn’t just offer to help you. There was always an angle.

“You wouldn’t have to pay me, if that’s what you’re thinking.”

“I don’t…”

“What sort of book are you looking for?”

Quyloc frowned. What was going on here?

“History?” the man asked.

“I don’t know,” Quyloc admitted. His dream had always been to own a book. He’d never gotten as far as wondering what book he wanted.

The quartermaster held out his hand. “Hand me your coins, and I will buy you a book.”

Quyloc’s eyes narrowed. Did the man think Quyloc would just let him run off with his money?

“I promise you I’m not trying to steal your money.”

Quyloc was no dummy. He knew every trick there was, every con, every malice hidden behind a smile. Which was why he was so surprised when he reached out and dropped the coins in the quartermaster’s hand.

“I’ll be right back.”

The quartermaster went into the book shop, the door held for him by the guard. He was gone long enough that Quyloc was sure he’d gone out the back of the shop and run off. He was also starting to attract attention. By the way one couple hurried away from him, he was sure they were getting the watch.

It was with great relief when he saw the man emerge from the shop, holding a book. He handed it to Quyloc, along with several coins.

“It covers the history of this land from the time of the Kaetrian Empire. I think you’ll like it.”

Quyloc took the book, hardly able to believe his eyes. He’d waited for this for so long.

“My name is Borman. I will tutor you two nights a week after I’m off duty.”

Hope and wonder so strong it hurt welled up inside Quyloc. “You’d really do that?”

“I will. Come by my office tomorrow after you’re done with your duties.”

Quyloc nodded, still in a daze. He was clutching the book to his chest like it was gold.

“And Quyloc? If you want to come into this part of town, you’ll need better clothes. The sweaty, bedraggled soldier look won’t make you any friends here. Use those last coins to buy a real shirt. That’s a start.”

Quyloc mumbled something and hurried away. On the way back to the barracks, he felt eyes on him the whole way. Threats were everywhere. He was nearly running when he reached the barracks.

“What’cha got there?” the guard at the gate asked, jerking his chin at the book. “Is that a book?”

“It’s nothing,” Quyloc said harshly, pushing his way past. The man called something after him, but Quyloc didn’t hear. His heart was pounding too hard.

Their sleeping quarters were empty. Quyloc sat on his bed, leaning up against the wall. He looked around again, making sure no one else was there. Then, with shaking hands, he opened the book.

The cover was thick leather, smooth in his hands. The pages were stiff and had their own, peculiar smell that he decided he liked. He turned one page, then another.

It was simultaneously the most exciting moment of his life, and the most frustrating. The sheer mass of words felt like an impenetrable riddle. There was no way he could ever make sense of them. It was too hard.

But the book felt right in his hands. It was meant to be. He’d almost had a book once, about a year ago. They were on a grab, stealing food from a shop with a loose back door. The book was sitting on a desk.

But when he picked it up, Rome told him to put it back. Food only, was his strict rule on a grab. “If we start nicking jewelry or coins, we’ll have the whole city watch on our heads.” So, Quyloc set it back in place, but he spent many nights afterwards thinking about it.

Somewhere during the night Quyloc fell asleep, still clutching the book.

He was awakened by the door banging open and the squad pouring in, all drunk. He pulled his blanket over the book, but not fast enough.

“Is that a book?” Glane asked. “What are you doing with a book?”

“Stole it seems likely,” Dravit said.

“I didn’t steal it. I bought it.”

Glane frowned, boggled by this idea. “You spent your pay on a book?”

They were all crowding around Quyloc’s cot now. He cursed himself for having fallen asleep.

Kerv reached for it. “Let me see it. I never saw a book up close before.”

Quyloc jerked it away from him.

“What kind of a soldier spends his money on a book?” Dravit sneered.

Rome spoke up. “The kind that wants to better himself.”

Dravit scoffed. “Got big airs, do ya? You think you’re better than us?”

“I know I’m better than you,” Quyloc said calmly.

Dravit’s eyes narrowed, but he didn’t push it further. He’d only recently stopped limping from having his knee kicked. “You’ll never make it as a soldier.” He left and went to his own cot. Everyone else dispersed as well, some of them muttering to each other about books and being crazy.

Rome sat down on his cot. “Can I see it?”

Quyloc handed it over. He watched anxiously as Rome opened it.

Rome ran a finger over the first page. “It’s hard to believe this all means something.”

“There’s a whole world in there. Borman says he will tutor me.”

“Borman?”

“The quartermaster. He bought the book for me. They wouldn’t let me in the shop.”

Rome handed the book back. “I don’t understand it. I don’t know why anyone would want to spend their money on a book instead of ale. But I’ve never understood you, so why start now?” He lay down on his cot. “I really shouldn’t have had that last ale.”

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