Chapter 3

It's a bit slow up to chapter six, but please bear with me. I'm introducing some characters, notably Grace and Sam are rather important. The goons are just goons though.

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A beanpole-looking youth with brown hair and crooked teeth was at the head of the group, the other four lagging behind.

"Fuck, you even smell like you came from between the legs of a slut. You stink like old fish!"

He pinched his nose, waving his other hand in the air like trying to dispel a lingering miasma, but with a shit-eating grin on his face as if he'd just told the world's funniest joke.

I simply looked at him, my expression not changing at all. The arsehole's name was Will, a cobbler's son. He was one of Erik's old friends, someone my brother been hanging out with since childhood.

I sighed inwardly. While it was preferrable to just stay silent, I couldn't do that. Sure, people like Will preferred to get a rise out of their victims, but even if they didn't, they wouldn't stop.

"If you're looking for Erik, he's probably at home."

Speaking slowly, I glanced from Will to the rest of their little gang's members.

There was Jamie, a red-haired boy with a pudgy face, Millie, a dark-haired girl with a pimple on her nose and Grace, the sandy-haired, freckled girl from earlier. I also knew her to be the least repulsive of the lot, whether that be in terms of personality or appearance.

Will laughed, meeting his friends' eyes.

"Yeah, we know. I feel sorry for the guy—not only does he have a whoreson for a brother, he actually has to do all the work while you're..."

While he was speaking, Gert emerged out of the back-room with the goods. Not about to waste the opportunity, I hurriedly excused myself.

"Sorry guys, but I'm actually running errands for my dad. I wish I could talk longer, but you know how it is."

Speaking over my shoulder, I made my way over to Gert. While it might have seemed like I was tucking my tail between my legs, that wasn't the case. Rather, I'd concluded that the best course of action was to act polite and refrain from violence.

Gert handed the basket over, his eyes flicking between me and Will.

"Here's your stuff. Run home now, it's best not to keep Jed waiting. Stop by next time you're in town, pops might have some extra work for you."

After patting me on the shoulder, he returned to his duties.

Smiling to myself, I hauled the basket onto my back. It was almost like a backpack, having two straps for making carrying easier.

However, when I was about to pass by Will and the others, the dumbass stuck his arm out, blocking my way.

"Hey man, I hope you're not mad about what I said earlier. I was just joking."

He had a weird smile on his face, the kind I knew all too well. Most likely, realizing I was on a shopping trip, he decided to try and bum some money off me.

Doing my best to keep the annoyance off my face, I shook my head.

"Don't worry, I wouldn't get mad over something so small. But I really can't talk today. Maybe next time I'm in town."

However, Will didn't remove his arm. Instead, his smile widened.

"Ah, that's too bad. But that basket looks kinda heavy, don't you want me to help you carry it?"

I had to fight the urge to not roll my eyes. This kind of scam was a popular one—offering help to someone and then demanding payment afterward. Fortunately, I'd never fallen for this particular one, but I'd seen it happen.

"No, it's all right. Besides, I might not smell like fish, but I do stink a little from working in the forge. It's better if you guys don't get too close to me."

Adjusting the basket on my back, I took a step forward, pressing against Will's arm. For a brief moment, an angry look flashed in the ruffian's eyes, but then he removed his arm.

"If you say so, buddy. Maybe have a wash before coming to town, yeah?"

Snorting amusedly, he turned and walked off, his cronies trailing behind him. The only exception was Grace, who suddenly spoke up.

"I… have to go home. My mom needs me to help with the washing. I'll see you all later."

Then, without giving her 'friends' a second glance, she ran over to my side, patting me on the shoulder.

"We're going in the same direction anyway, so you might as well walk with me, Arne."

Her words sparked a few protests, but she didn't pay them any attention. Instead, she pushed me forward, quickly creating distance between us and Will's group. The milling market-crowd served to obstruct us from their sight.

Surprisingly, they didn't follow us. Well, it would be a surprise if the situation was as it seemed. See, the thing is, although Grace was rather friendly toward me, it wasn't because she actually saw me as a friend or had a crush on me. Instead, the reason why Grace treated me politely was because she had a crush on Erik.

I sighed, my eyes flicking from the dusty road to the girl's freckled face.

"If you're done helping your mom, maybe stop by our house. I'm sure my brother would appreciate someone helping him with his chores."

My tone was dry, not really believing Grace's earlier excuse. I'd long since realized she only hung out with Will's group of goons because of Erik's presence.

Grace's expression stiffened, but then she grinned and smacked my shoulder.

"That was a lie, dummy. I already helped Mom with the washing this morning."

There was a faint blush on her cheeks as she walked next to me, her destination clearly corresponding with mine.

I rubbed my shoulder, feeling wronged. Why couldn't she just appreciate my efforts at playing matchmaker? Though I suppose girls her age were sensitive about having their feelings exposed.

We walked in silence for a while. The family homestead was about twenty minutes outside town, an hour's journey going back and forth. Eventually, I started to get bored, deciding to do a bit of teasing to pass the time.

"Are you and Erik going to get married?"

Meeting Grace's eyes, I modulated my tone and expression to appear as childish as possible. It felt a bit weird, given I usually didn't act very much like a ten-year-old. However, it was worth it to see the blonde's reaction—turning red like a boiled shrimp and spluttering, unable to speak a coherent word.

Eventually, she managed to calm down, realizing I was messing with her. However, in retribution, she smacked the back of my head with about as much force as she could muster.

It needed to be said that, at my age, being a boy meant very little when it came to contests of strength.

Immediately losing my balance, I toppled to the ground, the basket on my back bursting open upon impact. Lumps of coke spilled out onto the dirt road, scattering in all directions.

A gasp sounded from behind me as Grace realized what she'd just done. The girl went to her knees next to me, trying to help me up.

"Sorry, Arne. But why are always so…"

From her voice, a sense of remorse as well as frustration could be heard.

Having landed wrongly, the wind had been knocked clean out of me.

"…-ease put it back."

I barely managed to squeeze out the request, immediately dreading the consequences if something were to happen to make cargo. Or rather, what would happen to me.

Grace seemed to get what I was asking, letting go and scrambling to gather the grey, rocky clumps together.

After regaining my breath, I shakily got to my feet before joining her. Fortunately, Jed hadn't sent me to buy iron sand today, otherwise I'd be truly fucked.

Also, we were pretty much on the outskirts already, so the crowds had thinned considerably. If the 'accident' had occurred near Westbrook's town square, a bunch of scavengers would certainly have tried snatching some of the merchandise.

However, it seemed I wasn't entirely in luck, because a pair of leather boots entered my sight before their owner bent over, picking up a few handfuls.

"Hey, give that-…!"

Immediately assuming the worst, I started shouting at the 'thief'. However, the moment my eyes reached their face, travelling upwards from their shoes, I recognized them. It was the young man from earlier, the same one who'd advertised his goods in mister Lively's shop.

The man gave me a lopsided smile before walking over, pointedly depositing two handfuls of coke in my basket.

"Are you alright? That fall looked pretty painful. Maybe you shouldn't make your sister mad next time."

Laughing awkwardly, his eyes travelled between Grace and myself.

"She's not my sister, but thanks anyways."

Staring at him out of the corner of my eye, I carefully dusted myself off. Fortunately, my clothes hadn't been torn. If they were, well… let's just say Lily wouldn't be very happy.

Something strange glinted in the man's eyes, then his smile widened.

"Oh, I see. Are you two going somewhere? With all the ruffians hanging around these days, it's not safe for a girl and a little boy by themselves."

Taking a step closer, he bent his waist and lowered his torso, probably trying to appear less threatening.

"Why don't I walk with you, at least until you get to where you need to go?"

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