Chapter Twelve
"You cannot be too disappointed."
Skharr shrugged, looked around the small living area, and hefted a small, iron-capped chest with a selection of baubles, coins, and a few jewels. Hardly a king's ransom, he conceded irritably.
"You have to consider that there isn't much in the way of precious metals and the like in this area," the dwarf continued as they retraced their steps through the passage to the chamber they'd entered from. "Those fucking hags had more interest in fresh meat than whatever that meat happened to carry."
The dwarf was right, of course, but he couldn't help the feeling that he had somehow been cheated. It was better than nothing but the amount likely wouldn’t match what they would receive for completing the contract.
"Another job well done," he muttered as they reached the chamber. The corpses were where they had left them, which he chose to take as a good sign. The moment bodies started to disappear from where he'd left them was the moment that they very possibly were no longer bodies.
"How did you accomplish what you did?" the barbarian asked as they reached the room that still smelled of the blasting powder. "I thought you weren't able to shoot the bow. Did you throw the arrows?"
"No." Brahgen grinned, ran to where he'd left the bow, and picked it up. "I used my feet to draw it."
When his companion frowned in what might have been confusion, he sat quickly and used one foot to push the bow and the other to keep it in place while he dragged the string back with both hands. He didn't pull it very far but it would suffice as a demonstration.
"I would have fitted a few gears to it, settled in, and let them do most of the work, but there was something of a time constraint—along with a dearth of suitable materials, of course."
Skharr nodded. "What with the hags trying to manhandle me into their cauldron."
"I was only able to discover that you had the blasting powder on your arrows and how to fire the bow because you continued to fight them." Brahgen stood and handed him his bow.
"Even so, you showed a great deal of resourcefulness and cunning, both of which are some of the mightiest weapons in the arsenal of a master thief," Skharr pointed out. "You not only saved my life but you saved me from a particularly gruesome and painful end as well. Thank you for that."
"I did save your life, didn't I?" The youth tugged his thick beard gently. "And you thought I'd left you to fend for yourself with the lizardfolk too. But who came to your rescue when you charged in dick-first to deal with hags notorious for using magic to defend themselves?"
The barbarian nodded. "I suppose you did."
"There is nothing to suppose about it. Not that I do not realize that you've saved my life while we've traveled together, but to know that the tables have turned and I returned the favor… Well, it is a gratifying feeling."
"I hope you don't twist your arm trying to pat yourself too hard on the back."
"I don't need to. I have you to pat me on the back instead."
"Well, I would say that it was an equal effort on both our parts," Skharr told him. "And as such, the reward—as well as the treasure—should be divided equally between us."
"Did you ever intend to do things differently?"
"It crossed my mind," he admitted. "But you may consider that thought gone."
"Because I saved your life?"
"Because you saved my life. And because you are and have been an equal partner in this venture."
Brahgen grinned and showed a little more life in his step as the barbarian collected the arrows that were still intact, as well as the rest of his weapons. It had been a terrifying experience to feel like his body wasn't his own. The hags weren't strong enough to drag him easily or quickly, which had been the reason why the dwarf was able to come to his aid.
Still, for the longest of moments, Skharr had thought he was alone. He had felt like he was drowning on dry land while all the power drained from his body.
Few things in his life could ever prepare him for that feeling. He was used to being able to rely on his strength, if nothing else. And with a snap of the fingers from a creature of magic, all his amulets and wards had failed him and he'd been almost powerless.
Then again, maybe the amulets were what allowed him to put up the meager resistance he had. The hags hadn't been pleased that he’d been able to fight against them, no matter how ineffectual his efforts had been.
Or perhaps the magic they used was so unique from what mages offered in the civilized world that his protections had struggled to do their work to keep him alive.
Either way, he would have words with the mage who made it to ensure that no hag would be able to overwhelm their abilities again. It was not an experience he intended to repeat, of course. At least not until he grew old and his body started to drain of strength the natural way.
"How much coin do you think we'll make from this endeavor?" Brahgen asked once they had gathered their weapons and supplies from around the cavern.
Skharr paused where he examined a few of the lizardfolk to see if they had anything of value to take. "I would say we might find ourselves with…somewhere around twenty-five gold coins each. Perhaps a little more if one of the baubles proves to have magical properties. Mages will always pay dearly for unique items like that. It isn’t exactly a haul that would allow a master thief to retire young but it’s a good start."
The lizardfolk didn't have much aside from their weapons, and even those appeared to be crude creations. It made him wonder if it was the influence of the hags that forced the creatures to make them as they were more than capable hunters and fighters with their tails, claws, and fangs. In fact, it had seemed like fighting with weapons was foreign to them.
With the hags dead, perhaps that would allow them to retreat into the swamps to hide and stay away as they generally appeared to do. It was likely why they were mostly mythical since finding them had proven all but impossible by even the most astute and persistent of scholars. They were intelligent and had no interest in interacting with the other intelligent species.
And given their interaction with the hags, Skharr honestly could not blame them for it.
The crones didn't carry anything of value either, although he knew a handful of folk who would likely pay a few gold coins for the cast iron cauldron. Still, he wouldn't lug it around for anything less than a real dungeon's worth of treasure.
"Did you find anything?" Brahgen asked.
"Nothing worth taking with us. Unless you feel like hauling that cauldron back for a few gold pieces."
The dwarf made a face. "I think not. We've done enough and I am quite happy with whatever our gain from this little adventure will be—in equal shares. I don't know if you remember, but I did save you from having your limbs chopped up and served in what I am sure would be a delightful and delicious stew."
"I've always heard that humans taste like pork."
The dwarf gaped at him. "What…who would know such a thing?"
"Folk who eat folk, I suppose. I've never tried it myself but in certain desperate situations… Well, the mind does go to the oddest of places when it is desperate to survive."