“Ras,” the large man said in a warning tone, “our new friend doesn’t need to be concerned with the details.”
Kre shrugged nonchalantly, though his mind was racing. Did they know about Bel? Did they know about his connection to her? Was that why they were bringing him along? He wondered how he might get more information on this new job of theirs without seeming too eager.
“So, uh, how many of you are there? I’ve met, let’s see… five of you?”
Ras nodded, “Yup. We’re ten in total. The ones you haven’t met yet are Ortho, Garth, Gnore, Druckner, and Snagger. They’re… um… they’re a bit…”
“They’re different,” Beleg snorted. “You’ll just have to meet them and keep an open mind.” He chuckled again, “And don’t mention their height.”
Ras nodded and confirmed, “Yeah, they’re far more sensitive about it than I am.”
A question started to form in Kre’s mind, but thankfully he was mindful enough to consider how best to frame it without sounding insulting.
“How long have you been with the company Ras?” he finally asked.
“Since we founded it, about six years ago,” he replied. “Only Snagger and Garth weren’t with us at the beginning. We hired them about four years ago, temporarily, during a particularly tough job. They did so well that we kept them on the books and made them full members.
“Stick around with us,” Ras smiled, “and maybe you’ll earn your feather as well.” He tapped the clasp of his cloak and Kre noticed that it was a red metal broach in the shape of a feather.
“Why a red feather?”
Neither Beleg nor Rasmussen responded immediately. The sad look on their faces told Kre that the story about the company’s emblem would be a tragic tale.
“We wear the red feather in honor of Lady Zir’zool.” Beleg tapped at his own broach affixed over his chest, “She was one of the originals, having been working alongside Talimar and Kersath when we met them. She always wore a red feather in her hair, so we wear red feathers near our hearts in her honor.”
Kre swallowed the bad taste rising in his throat. Kre was never good around death, even hearing about it was enough to make him feel a bit ill. “How many, um… how many members have you lost?”
“Two. Lady Zir’zool and Brother Randor,” Ras replied matter-of-factly. “Though we’ve had close calls, let me tell you.”
“Sounds like a dangerous line of work, especially for a child,” Kre concluded.
Both Ras and Beleg pulled up sharply on their reins, bringing their mounts to an immediate stop. “Beg pardon?” Beleg said, a hint of dangerous edge to his voice.
Kre tugged on his own reins and turned Maple a bit to face the two of them. “I’m sorry?” he said, putting too much of an emphasis on the last syllable, making it sound more like a question than he intended. Still, he wasn’t sure what it was that he was apologizing for.
“I’m not a child you know,” Ras said, a sad look on his youthful face. “Despite my appearance, I’ve seen nearly thirty of your years.” He clucked his tongue and snapped the reins, guiding his horse past Kre without looking at him.
Beleg did the same, using his heels to get his horse moving forward, shaking his head in disappointment.