Mel Odom - Rising Tide

Five other men left, grumbling to themselves, trying to act like the caravan master's words hadn't frightened them.

"Those of you still interested," Frauk said, "I can promise you long hours, short pay, and little patience. We're making a profit by getting shipments up and down the coast on time. I'll be dogging every step you make if you lag." He paused. "Now before I get a good look at you, are there any questions?"

Jherek looked at the man and asked, "How far north is this caravan going?"

"As far north as Baldur's Gate, boy," Frauk replied. "If things look prosperous enough, maybe on into Waterdeep. That suit you?"

"Aye, sir."

Frauk narrowed his gaze." 'Aye, sir?' Are you a damned sailor, boy?"

Jherek. hesitated, knowing that his bad luck was already showing again. Anger stole over him, giving his tongue a sharper edge than he'd have liked. "Aye, sir, and a good one."

"What the hell are you doing trying to sign up on a caravan?"

"I need the work, sir," Jherek replied.

Frauk came closer, taking long strides. "Can you sit a horse, boy?"

"Aye, sir."

Frauk stopped less than a foot from him, glaring at him with cold blue eyes. "Have you been in a fight, boy? It looks like you've been in a fight lately."

"Aye, sir."

Frauk glared at him and put his hands on his hips. "Do you know how to fight, boy?"

"Aye, sir."

Frauk spat on the ground and shook his head in derision. "From the looks of you it don't look like it. Bruised up, beat up… I need men who know how to handle themselves. Grab your gear and get the hell out of my line." He turned smartly on his heel and walked down the line to a big man. "Now you, you'll do just fine. Go put your gear on that wagon."

Embarrassment and anger flooded through Jherek. He shouldn't have been surprised. His luck had doomed him from the start. There'd never been a chance. He'd only made a fool of himself. He reached down for his packs and took them up, turned, and walked away.

Two other caravans had offered to hire him, but they'd both been bound for the south. None of the ones he'd found going north so far had needed men.

He trudged away from the line, listening to the caravan master hire another man. He tried to think of what else he could do, but he was out of options. The anger inside him grew until he couldn't stand it any more. He hadn't been fairly judged and he knew it. He rated more than an offhand dismissal from the caravan master, and he meant to have it. He wasn't just going to quietly go away this time. If that voice wanted to push him, then he was going to push back.

"You'll do too," Frauk told another man. "Go put your gear on the wagon."

Shouldering his pack, Jherek turned and walked back to the caravan master. The man stopped, watching as Jherek came closer.

"I've shipped with a captain who knew manners and who knew men, and had no dealings at all with someone like you, so maybe I'm out of place here," the young sailor said in a hard voice that could be clearly heard, "but I want you to know something. I've fought sharks and I've fought pirates. I've even fought sahuagin. I've fought in the day and in the night, on a ship's deck, on land, and in the sea. My face is marked up right now because I've been in a fight, but that was a fight I won. If you speak to me with such disrespect like that again, you're going to find out firsthand how well I fight."

Without another word, Jherek turned and walked away. His pulse was pounding in his head and he knew he should have been feeling guilty about his behavior, but he didn't. He'd stood up for himself and it felt good. He even thought Malorrie would have understood.

"Hey, boy."

Slowly, Jherek turned back to face the caravan master, thinking maybe the man intended to fight him after all.

The caravan master stood looking back at him.

"Aye, sir," Jherek answered.

"You still want that job?"

"Aye, sir."

"Then go put your gear up on that wagon. I'm hiring fighters today."

For a moment, Jherek stood frozen, not realizing for sure what the man had said. Then he nodded and said, "Aye, sir." He crossed to the wagon and tossed his bedroll and pack into the back.

Baldur's Gate was a long way off overland, but at least he was headed in the right direction. He tried not to think of what may lie ahead of him, taking comfort in this small victory.