The little boy appeared to be about the same age as Jimmy, but his expression carried a much more calculating, almost mercenary edge.
When he saw Ethan he immediately put on a fawning smile, bowed deeply, and asked:
"Are you Scholar Ethan Cole?"
"Yes, that's me. Who are you?"
After receiving confirmation the boy answered quickly:
"My name is Albert. I'm Jimmy's younger brother. Jimmy is sick today, so he asked me to take his place and show you around."
Younger brother? Ethan raised an eyebrow.
"Did he tell you where we're going today?"
"Yes—Master Tangdelion's silversmith shop."
Tangdelion… that was indeed the silversmith Ethan had arranged to meet yesterday.
But he already knew the way, didn't he?
A faint sense of unease stirred in his chest about Jimmy.
"Let's go then. What's wrong with Jimmy?"
"I don't know exactly—he just keeps coughing. I gave him some herbal medicine and he's resting at home. He should be better in a couple of days. Come with me."
Led by the boy Ethan and Kevin wound through streets and narrow alleys until they reached a secluded, shadowed lane.
This was definitely not the route to Silversmith Street.
Ethan stopped walking.
"Did we take a wrong turn?"
The boy spun around, stuck out his tongue, pulled a mocking face, and bolted.
Before Ethan could react seven or eight men armed with short knives and axes stepped out from both ends of the alley, boxing master and apprentice in.
Among them were the same thugs who had overturned Jimmy's cart the day before.
"Your lordship—if your head isn't already stuffed full of parchment I suggest you hand over the gold coins in your pouch nice and quiet. We might even let you keep your tongue so you can earn a crust telling stories."
The leader was a burly, dark-skinned man carrying a heavy cudgel studded with a long iron nail. He advanced with a cruel grin.
"Think about it. All those years studying in the Oldtown—and you're going to die in some filthy back alley? Isn't that a pity?"
Ethan deliberately stumbled back a step, bringing himself closer to Kevin. His voice shook as he asked:
"You—you want to… what are you doing?
This is White Harbor—inside the city walls—under the protection of House Manderly! Robbing people in broad daylight—you're showing utter disrespect to the Manderlys!"
The dark-skinned man barked a laugh.
"House Manderly? May the Seven bless the lord with long life. The Manderlys are giants—we're ants.
Even if he could crush us with one step—what does a giant care about what happens inside an anthill?
Don't expect any city watch to come save you. We chose this place very carefully."
Ethan's face had gone deathly pale. Sweat poured down his temples, soaking his collar.
He roared hoarsely:
"Impossible—absolutely impossible! Even if you kill us the bodies will be found soon. None of you will escape!"
Behind him Kevin clutched Ethan's cloak, head bowed, body shaking uncontrollably.
Seeing their prey so pathetic and furious only emboldened the robbers. The leader sneered:
"So all you Oldtown scholars are just bookworms after all?
The houses on both sides of this alley are abandoned—no one lives here. We'll kill you, toss the bodies inside, and let them rot down to bones. No one will ever know."
At that moment a skinny, vicious-looking thug cut in:
"Big Joey—stop wasting breath on them. The boss didn't say they had to leave alive."
The dark-skinned man—Big Joey—growled in annoyance:
"Are you stupid? What's wrong with having a little fun first? The boss didn't say I couldn't—"
Ethan suddenly interrupted, voice now completely calm and deep:
"One last question—how did you know I was carrying gold coins?"
Big Joey laughed.
"Hah—you were asking about gold prices all over Silversmith Street yesterday—"
He froze mid-sentence as realization hit.
The tall "timid scholar" opposite him was no longer trembling.
Those eyes now regarded him like he was already a corpse.
Ethan spoke softly:
"You prepared quite well. Otherwise this might have been a little tricky.
I hope you chose this place with your own funeral needs in mind.
Kevin—you can handle the last three, right?"
Kevin gave an indifferent sneer.
"No problem, Teacher."
When Big Joey saw the supposedly timid scholar draw a gleaming longsword from beneath his cloak he was momentarily stunned.
He turned to his companion.
"Isn't this guy supposed to be a scholar?"
The short, fat thug who had kicked over Jimmy's stall looked equally confused.
"That little bastard Jimmy said—"
Before he finished the sentence a razor-sharp sword light was already slashing toward his face.
A few dozen heartbeats later seven armed thugs had become seven corpses still clutching their weapons.
Ethan kicked one body lightly with his toe and complained:
"Kevin—why didn't you remind me to leave one alive? They're all dead. Now who's going to tell us where Jimmy lives?"
Kevin wiped the blood from his blade on a dead man's cloak and shrugged helplessly.
"Teacher—you didn't say to leave anyone alive. You moved without warning—I thought you had some special plan.
Besides… your acting was so over-the-top I could barely keep from laughing."
Ethan scratched his head.
"So what do we do now?"
Just then in a sunken corner of the alley a small boy named Albert crouched with his hand clamped over his mouth, trembling violently. A dark stain spread down his leg from the sharp smell of urine.
He had originally planned to hide here until everything was over—maybe scavenge a few trinkets the bosses didn't want from the two "fat sheep" and make the trip worthwhile.
Things had ended as quickly as he expected—but the person left standing was not the one he had anticipated.
"Hey—kid over there. Come here!"
The tall "scholar's" cold voice suddenly rang out.
Albert jolted so hard he turned and ran.
He managed only two steps before a chill wind brushed his ear.
A longsword nearly as tall as he was plunged into the dirt directly in front of him.
Albert stared at the blood-streaked blade.
His vision darkened.
He fainted.
When he came to he found himself sitting in the corner.
The corpses were gone.
The two killers crouched before him.
He scrambled up intending to flee—but a large hand pressed firmly against his forehead.
The warm, damp palm filled him with both revulsion and terror.
"Don't move. I'm not great at controlling my strength."
The gentleness in that voice instantly steadied Albert. He trembled but stopped struggling.
The tall man asked quietly:
"Boy—do you know the way to Jimmy's house?"
Albert shook his head instinctively—then nodded frantically.
"I know, sir! I know where he lives! We grew up together—I'm his best friend! Please let me go!"
"You're his best friend?"
Ethan clearly didn't believe him.
Albert rushed to explain:
"Yes! Yesterday he told me a scholar wanted to hire him as a servant! He even said he'd give me his oyster stall!"
"Was it you who told those thugs about the deal between Jimmy and me?"
"No! Big Joey and the others heard from their lookouts on Silversmith Street that Jimmy was trying to exchange a big fish for money—they came to our door last night!"
Hearing this Ethan fell silent.
A wave of secret regret washed over him.
This was all because of him.
After a moment he continued:
"And then?"
"Big Joey and the others forced Jimmy to lead you to this alley. Jimmy refused—so they beat him.
I was playing with Jimmy at the time—they made me take his place instead!
They said if I didn't go they'd make both of us useless—they'd kill Jimmy and me too!"
Beaten?!
Ethan's heart clenched.
"Come on—take us to Jimmy's house.
If what you're saying is true I swear by the Seven Gods I'll let you go home."
Really?
Albert didn't dare ask—afraid of the answer.
With that faint thread of hope he finally led the way willingly.
Running away midway never crossed his mind.
After seeing Ethan's skill he didn't dare bet on whether his legs were faster than that sword.
Soon the three reached another run-down alley.
Children played in the mud at doorways on both sides while adults went about their chores.
Ethan walked past them offering only a blank, indifferent gaze.
At the very end stood a low, crooked wooden shack.
Albert gently pushed open the door.
"Jimmy—are you okay?"
"Albert… where did you go?"
Jimmy's weak voice drifted from a disordered bed.
The shack was tiny and cramped. The thatched roof was black with soot.
A water vat full of freshly gathered oysters stood in one corner.
Peeled garlic cloves lay scattered beside the bed along with some tattered clothing.
Ethan strode over and sat gently on the edge of the bed.
"Little Jimmy—it's me. Your scholar."
"Scholar Ethan?"
Jimmy lifted his head.
One eye was swollen completely shut.
The other eyelid was puffed and purple—leaving only a narrow slit.
Dried blood smeared his young face.
Ethan's heart twisted painfully.
The brief flash of surprise vanished instantly. Jimmy panicked:
"Sir—I didn't betray you! They said they'd give me money—they beat me—but I didn't betray you!"
Jimmy struggled to sit up but couldn't move his body.
The small wooden duck he clutched slipped from his fingers and fell to the floor.
Ethan gently pressed him back down picked up the duck and placed it back in his arms.
"I know. I know everything. Your friend Albert told me. You're a good boy."
Then Ethan carefully drew back the filthy blanket.
Without it Jimmy's bruised and swollen body was fully exposed.
One arm and one leg were dislocated at unnatural angles.
The muscles around the injuries bulged grotesquely.
The sallow skin was almost translucent.
Ethan closed his eyes for a moment steadying himself.
Then he asked softly:
"Child—yesterday I asked if you wanted to be my servant. Have you thought it over?"
Jimmy's eyes suddenly shone with light.
"I'm willing! Grandfather said serving a fair and virtuous gentleman… is the best path for someone like me. Grandfather said…"
Suddenly Jimmy's gaze grew distant.
Lost in dreams of the future his head slumped back.
His eyes closed.
Ethan desperately tried to sense any remaining vitality in the small body—but no matter how hard he searched he felt only waves of searing pain.
With trembling hands he gently pressed Jimmy's neck.
There was nothing.
Only that terrible stillness.
Ethan felt something tear inside his chest.
*Little friend… so your greatest wish was simply to find a kind master to serve?*
After one last careful look Ethan drew the blanket gently over Jimmy's face and turned to Albert.
"How do people here handle the dead?"
Albert—finally understanding—burst into tears.
He choked out:
"The Silent Sisters of the sept take care of bodies. If you pay them they treat them very well."
"Kevin—go back to White Salmon and bring my breastplate and 'Sea Serpent Strike'."
Kevin asked no questions.
He opened the door and left—already guessing what his teacher intended.
Ethan lifted Jimmy's small, thin body and followed Albert to the nearest sept.
After donating a silver stag he entrusted Jimmy's body to a Silent Sister in her black robes.
"Sister—please treat him well. He was an honest child."
The Silent Sister nodded once wrapped little Jimmy in a straw mat and carried him inside.
Only after her black-robed figure vanished into the shadows of the sept's high walls did Ethan bend down and pick up the small wooden duck that had fallen to the floor.
He examined it closely for the first time.
It was a roughly carved toy made from common pine—probably whittled by Jimmy's grandfather or father—worth less than a copper coin.
Yet the smooth, glossy patina showed it had been Jimmy's most cherished possession—perhaps his only one.
Ethan tucked the duck silently into his tunic and turned to leave.
Back at Jimmy's shack Ethan knelt in front of Albert and looked straight into the boy's eyes.
"Albert—you and Jimmy were friends, right?"
Albert trembled slightly then nodded.
"I'll give you a silver stag." Ethan placed both hands on Albert's shoulders. "I'll give you a silver stag so you can do something for your friend. Are you willing?"
A silver stag?!
Albert's eyes widened.
"I'm willing, sir! Just tell me—I'll do anything!"
"The people who beat Jimmy—they're called the Longfish Gang, right? You know where their hideout is, don't you?
Take me there after dark. Once I confirm the location you can take the silver stag home and buy whatever you want."
Albert hesitated only a moment before asking:
"Sir—can you take me as your servant instead? I'm smarter and stronger than little Jimmy."
Ethan was momentarily stunned.
A wave of helplessness and sorrow rose in his chest—but he kept his face calm.
"If you do well tonight… I'll consider it."
Albert nodded eagerly—tears for Jimmy still shining at the corners of his eyes.
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