“There it is,” Jax murmurs, grinning as a coach rumbles down the rough-hewn road. He shoots a grin at his partner in crime, who gives him an awkward gesture in return. Westle has always been a little off when it comes to social graces. Jax thinks it’s adorable. They sit on a thick branch in a tree almost as old as the gods themselves. Its leaves are dark green and too numerous to count, its trunk is solid wood and at least three meters across. If it wouldn’t upset the tree so much, Jax would try to carve out a home inside the wide trunk. The sun is bright in the few spots it breaks through the trees. The air is warm.
His companion asks, “How fast do you think we’ll pull this one off?”
Jax shrugs. “Depends how many jewels the lady in that carriage has sewed into her dress.”
Westle grins.
The coach rattles up the road below them. As one Jax and Westle jump onto the coach. It’s flimsy wood, made not for structural integrity, but decoration; it gives under Jax’s feet. He falls into the coach with a startled yelp, ending up sitting at the feet of an old man. He turns and sees the other occupant of the coach.
“My lady!” he says, tipping his hat to her. Then he realizes the youth in the billowy shirt (with huge puffed sleeves) is a boy. Not a girl. He whips his blade out and presses it to the young man’s throat.
“Today is very simple for you. Hand over all the valuables and no one gets hurt.”
Puffed-sleeves says, “Don’t hurt me!”
Jax rolls his eyes. “Yeah, I won’t, if you just give me the jewels. Do you understand?” He’s still looking scared out of his mind.
“Someone’s coming!” Westle called from outside.
The older man makes a move toward Jax, like he’s going to take the blade. Jax hits him in the jaw with his elbow, and the man sits back down, stunned. Jax turns to the pretty boy. “This is taking too long, you’re coming with me.”
The boy looks over at the old man, then meets Jax’s eyes. “No! Don’t take me with you. I’ll give you everything I have, just don’t take me.”
Jax lifts an eyebrow, then holds out his hand. “Come on, pretty boy.”
“The name’s Derren,” he says, frowning as he takes Jax’s hand and follows him out the carriage door.
“I’ve got the boot!” Westle hisses, holding a small chest and running into the woods.
“Split up!” Jax says, pulling Darren into the woods. They run for a minute or two before Jax pulls Darren into a small, hidden grotto. He smiles widely and asks, “What were you doing in Lady Sofia’s carriage?”
Darren grins and pulls Jax close, kissing him. “I told her ruffians were about in the woods, and that I should go in her place.” He presses close, then reveals a bag from behind its back. “I got all of Elara’s gold jewelry.”
Jax laughs and takes the bag, then says, “I think you need a few bruises on your neck, love. To sell the kidnapping.”
“Maybe a few bruises elsewhere, too.” Darren puts his back to a tree and holds Jax close.
Today is the best day.
Terra P. Waters 