Mastery Is Earned

Once they were on the move, Raymond realized that Carter's condition was even worse than expected. His right leg could not support him at all, leaving him to brace himself on the wooden spear with his left hand. Raymond walked on Carter's right, supporting him around the waist and back. Their progress was painfully slow.

After they had struggled onward for some distance, Carter suddenly said, “Once we're back, you should take the largest share of the loot. You've earned it.”

Raymond glanced sideways at him. “Let's talk about that after we make it back to Blackstone.”

Carter paused in surprise, and some of the tension seemed to leave his body.

They walked a little farther before Carter took several labored breaths. “Come to think of it, I still don't know your name. I can't keep calling you rookie forever.”

The remark caught Raymond slightly off guard. As an orphan, he had never had a real name of his own. Everyone had simply called him “kid” or “big oaf.” Carter and the others called him “rookie.”

Raymond was his name from his previous life. “Raymond.” He paused for a moment before continuing. “It's a name I chose for myself.”

“Raymond...” Carter repeated the name, then nodded. “All right. I'll remember it.”

They traveled in fits and starts for roughly four hours, resting two or three times along the way because of Carter's injuries. Carter's condition had slowed their return to a crawl. It was now nearly dusk, with only a little over an hour until sunset. They had no choice but to stop and find a relatively secluded place to make a temporary camp.

Raymond gathered enough clean water and firewood, then helped Carter clean his wounds again. Carter did not remain idle. While Raymond was away, he took it upon himself to handle the other chores. By the time the campfire was burning and the stew in the iron pot had begun to smell inviting, darkness had completely enveloped the forest.

It was an unusually rich stew, containing not only dried meat, mushrooms, and vegetables, but also a generous amount of spices Carter was normally reluctant to use. Perhaps because of his injuries, Carter did not eat much. Most of the stew ended up in Raymond's stomach.

After the meal, they settled down early. Raymond lay in his bedroll and quickly fell asleep. Far too much had happened that day. He needed a proper rest to recover from the strain.

Carter took the first watch. Leaning beside the campfire, he wore a grave expression, seemingly lost in thought. The flames cast his face alternately in light and shadow.

Raymond took the second watch. The badly injured Carter needed proper rest if he was to recover quickly. When they changed shifts, Carter laboriously lowered himself onto his bedroll. Carter's bedroll was just behind Raymond and off to one side, giving him a partial view of the young man's profile.

Although his body was exhausted beyond measure, Carter could not fall asleep. Every so often, he opened his eyes to check Raymond's position. Only after confirming the young man remained where he was did Carter dare close them again. Even then, the slightest rustle made his eyes snap open. He remained tense and fearful all night.

The next morning, Raymond finished his watch and found Carter's eyes bloodshot. He looked listless and had clearly slept poorly. Raymond did not question him. He simply gave Carter some warmed rations, then they set out again.

Unlike on the journey there, they did not need to follow tracks or search the surrounding area. All they had to do was head straight out of the forest. In theory, that should have made the return journey much faster.

But Raymond had badly underestimated Carter's injuries. His right knee grew increasingly swollen, and he nearly fell several times. Although he insisted he had merely lost his footing, Raymond could tell that he was forcing his body onward. Raymond took Carter's pack, though he left the man's weapon and coin purse with him.

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Carter looked at him, his expression conflicted. With Raymond supporting him and the wooden spear serving as a crutch, he barely managed to maintain their pace.

“Once we get back, I'll cover the compensation for the three of them and their shares of the reward out of my own portion,” Carter told Raymond.

Raymond shook his head. “I'll only take the share I deserve, Captain. The compensation for their deaths shouldn't come out of your portion alone.”

Carter gave a bitter smile and slowly lowered his head. The muddy ground he had once crossed with ease now seemed almost impassable.

By afternoon, Carter's steps had grown heavier and his awareness had begun to dull. Several times, he briefly drifted into a daze. Raymond saw it all but never urged him onward. He simply kept a firm hold on Carter so he would not collapse.

They stopped early and made camp before dusk. This time, Raymond took the first watch and Carter the second. Carter still wanted to insist otherwise, but Raymond would not yield. In the end, he had no choice but to agree.

Even as he lay in his bedroll, Carter kept a tight grip on his weapon. He was so frightened and uneasy that he did not dare sleep, yet his eyelids felt so heavy they threatened to close at any moment.

The sound of birdsong startled him awake.

Carter stared around in confusion before realizing that morning had already arrived. He had slept through the entire night!

When Carter saw that Raymond had noticed him wake, his mouth went dry and his eyes stung. “Why didn't you wake me?”

“You needed the rest more than I did, Captain,” Raymond replied calmly.

After staying awake all night, Raymond's head felt heavy and his eyes ached badly. Fortunately, he was younger and far less seriously injured than Carter. At least he could continue traveling. He handed Carter a bowl of clean water and several warmed pieces of black bread. “Captain, have something to eat.”

Carter accepted the water but did not drink for a long while. Remembering how he had kept his guard up against Raymond all night, terrified of losing both his life and his money, he suddenly could not bring himself to meet the young man's eyes.

“Thank you.”

Carter lowered his head, his voice slightly hoarse.

“It looks like we're almost out of the forest,” Raymond said slowly, turning to look into the distance.

“We are. We should be out before noon.” Carter drained the water in one gulp and finally felt a little better.

After packing their belongings, Raymond helped Carter back onto the road. With the edge of the forest within reach, they could not help quickening their pace. Time passed, and the thin mist dispersed. The dense forest gradually thinned. The air around them grew warmer, and small paths occasionally appeared among the trees.

Clop, clop, clop.

The unhurried sound of hooves came from nearby. Raymond immediately drew his short sword and moved in front of Carter, shielding him. Carter stopped as well, gripping the wooden spear that served as his crutch in his left hand and watching the source of the sound warily.

A driver in coarse linen clothes was guiding a cart drawn by an old donkey toward them at a leisurely pace. The sight of two armed men clearly startled him. He hurriedly reined the donkey to a stop and regarded them with suspicion. When they saw he was only a cart driver, Raymond and Carter exchanged a glance and visibly relaxed.

Raymond slowly released Carter, sheathed his weapon, and approached the driver. “Sir, where are you headed?”

Seeing that Raymond's manner was friendly enough and that he had put away his weapon, the driver relaxed somewhat. He glanced at Carter, who could barely remain standing, and answered seriously, “I'm on my way back to Blackstone. This cart is carrying important supplies the town needs.”

“I only wanted to ask if we might have a ride.” Raymond gestured at Carter behind him. “My friend is badly injured. If possible, could you carry him for part of the way?”

The driver hesitated as he looked at Carter, who was indeed struggling to stay on his feet.

Leaning on the wooden spear, Carter slowly came forward and held out several copper coins. “My name is Carter. You may have heard of me.”

The driver's expression improved considerably once he accepted the coins. When he heard Carter's name, he grew visibly excited. “You're Carter? Of course I know you! Good heavens, I didn't recognize you just now. How did you get so badly hurt? Where are your companions? And who's this young man? I've never seen him before.”

“That... is a long story.” Carter sighed.

Raymond moved the odds and ends in the cart toward the front, then spread a bedroll across the cart bed. Fortunately, there was not much clutter. Carter reclined against the cargo with his injured right leg stretched out. Since they had found a ride, Raymond had no intention of passing up the opportunity. He climbed aboard and dropped onto the rear of the cart.

“Off we go!” the driver called, gently patting the old donkey pulling the cart.

The donkey snorted, and the cart swayed slowly onward through the forest. Leaning against the cargo behind him, Carter slowly closed his eyes. This time, he slept without fear.

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