Cade 4

“That's him!” Cade hissed, nudging Whistle so hard that the second boy scowled and rubbed at his ribs in mock pain. Whistle looked, and sure enough there was a clueless-looking boy about their age walking, almost prancing, through the marketplace. They'd been watching for the boy for two weeks since Cade had first seen him, and here he was. He found himself at a loss as to what, exactly, he should do about it. He stared as the boy made his way across the square and headed for the same alley he'd gone down before.

“And...” Whistle's thought trailed off. “We're going to watch him get away.” His voice startled Cade into action.

“Try to get in front of him!” Cade whispered, and started off after the boy. As Whistle slid away, Cade's focus grew tight. He was so intent on the boy that he didn't notice what was happening until Whistle literally crashed into the boy from the side. Subtlety never was his strong point. They went sprawling, and landed in a heap. The boy got to his hands and knees, looking dazed. Whistle was on his feet in a flash, and swearing loudly. His face grew red, and he brandished his fist as the boy got to his feet and raised his hands defensively, obviously unsure of what to do. In another moment Cade was there and in the middle, fists raised protectively.

“Oi now! You'll have both of us!” Cade snapped. Whistle hesitated, clearly considering his options.

“He needs to watch where he's going!” Whistle said, less aggressively.

“Alright then, come on,” said Cade, clearly itching for a fight. It was Whistle's turn to look unsure, and he started to back away.

“Next time your girlfriend might not be here,” he said to the boy as he turned his back and stalked away. The boy was peering around, patting his chest and back. Cade noticed the purse was gone right around the same time the boy did.

“Aww, he took my purse!” he shouted. Cade grew conciliatory.

“Now now, Mate. He looked like a dangerous one, and surely he has friends. Might be best to let that one go.”

“But it was a gift from my father,” the boy whined, dragging out the last word as if he might start blubbering on the spot. Cade was sure it must have been, for the boy certainly didn't have the stones to have stolen it himself.

“What's your name, anyway?” Cade asked, throwing his arm over the boy's shoulder. The boy looked crestfallen as he resigned himself to the fact that the purse was gone for good, and answered.

“I'm Paira. My father is Duro Himinn, of the Guard.” Cade's face registered a moment of shock, but he quickly regained control of his face. He needn't have worried, the boy was about as observant as a post. “Where were you going anyway?” the boy rambled, “You can come to my house if you want, it's time for sandwiches.” Cade thought that was a fine idea indeed, and he smiled as they turned and walked down the alley.

It wasn't long before they came to the place where Paira had lost him before. He surprised Cade by scaling the ladder as quickly as he'd ever seen anyone climb. Up onto the roof they went, and across a small rope footbridge which Paira crossed as comfortably as if he were a spider on a thread. Cade was neither scared of heights nor clumsy, but it swayed quite a lot with two boys crossing at the same time, and it was not as easy as Paira made it look. He turned back to Cade as he stepped off of the bridge and smiled, seeming to have forgotten his purse altogether. “Come on,” he urged, sandwiches.”

***

“We ate sandwiches,” Cade mused. “He has a nanny. She made them. He and his da live in a little stone apartment above a warehouse. You have to climb a ladder and cross this little rope footbridge, and Mother can he climb...”

“And...” Whistle spoke over Cade's rambling. Cade continued. 

“He lives there alone, with his father, who is �" get this �" a guard in th...”

“Yeah, yeah,” Whistle broke in, twirling his finger dramatically. “How'd he get your purse?”

“That's the thing,” Cade said, thoughtfully. “His father, who's in the guard, gave it to him for his birthday.” Whistle thought for a moment.

“Maybe they confiscated it from the boys who took it from you?” Whistle laughed out loud, sounding satisfied. “Maybe they're rotting in the jail right now!” He slapped Cade on the back, and tugged at the the newly-mended strap that ran from his friend's left shoulder to right hip. Cade couldn't help but smile. He reached down and lifted the satchel, holding it in both hands. He looked at it and sighed. He had it back. He finally had it back.

“What if he had noticed you take it?” Cade wondered out loud. “What would you have done?” Whistle was incredulous.

“Ha! He wouldn't have noticed if I'd done a dance and shaken it in his face. That boy's dull, Card.” He tapped his head and let his mouth hang open. “He's all rocks, no copper.”

Pole glanced up from his cards and spoke from across the room. “Now that you have your purse back...” he paused for effect, then went on. “Hows about you go do some work? I hear the folken are having trouble keeping their pants up, with so many coins in their pouches, and Sunshine needs a new pair of boots.” He nodded at the boy across from him. Pole was the only one who called him “Sunshine.” To everyone else, he was simply Shine. He was the biggest boy, shaggy haired and stocky through the middle, with a fat neck that had the scarce beginnings of a black beard.

“Wot's wrong wid my lucky boots?” he said, holding his foot up. He knew his big toe showed through a hole, and he waggled it up and down. It was an old joke, but Whistle guffawed.

“Why don't you ever smile, even when you make a joke?” he asked.

“Oi, I am smilin',” Shine said with an exaggerated grimace. He looked back down at his cards. “But this hand,” he muttered, “this hand is the real joke.” Pole only grinned as they went back to their game.