Persistent Infamy
I was a tremulous wreck, my heart pounding in my chest, hands shaking, and despite the dry frigid air I felt as though I were drenched in sweat. I had to constantly remind myself that I was supposed to be a simple city dweller now, out to peruse and purchase from his local grocer and apothecary for general household commodities. I was supposed to be blending in, instead I imagine a looked as though I had just come down from a month’s long binge on Whisker Dust. For every one cabbage I turned over in my hands, for every ounce of balewater spice I weighed, I found myself peering over my shoulder, counting the people coming and going from the marketplace, constantly aware of anyone walking too close…
“I really don’t think you need to worry so much.”
My heart went cold. I estimated the voice in question had come from no more than two feet behind me. An impossibility. No one had been close enough to have gotten behind me in the hair’s second that it took me to turn my eyes forward. I locked my eyes on the haunches that hung in the stall in front of me while slowly reaching into my jacket as evenly as I could manage.
“Please, sir, do calm down. I’d rather not like a face full of fire. Or acid. Or whatever you’ve got.”
To Hells with that, they’d get all of the above.
“Rabbit, huh?” The voice eased forward until a figure stepped beside me. “I’m more of a duck kinda guy myself.” They breathed a short chortle then, “funny, I’ve never actually seen you shopping before.”
What in the…
“Apologies.” The young man half turned toward me, a smile so large it only served to draw unease. He pushed out a gloved hand toward me, “Cosmo Plunkett. I’m a huge fan, sir, a huge fan!”
My eyes trailed from his face to his hand and back to his face. I allowed my hand to fall back to my side. “Right.” I trailed, furrowing my brow and shaking my head. I turned my attention to the stalls owner and flagged them over, requesting two rabbit haunches and then purchasing them along with the rest of the goods I had picked out. “Listen, I don’t know who you think I am, but I assure you I am not.” I said this while turning toward him. His smile barely dimmed as he withdrew his hand and stood there expectantly. I squinted then huffed, “so, bye,” and turned away.
Surely it could have only been some sort of coincidence. Whatever disguise I had chosen must have looked like one of that lad’s old friends or and uncle or some other cohort. I made a mental note to recalibrate the appearance of my Mask of Stolen Faces before I left the house again.
“They call you the Merchant King of Fiends.”
The young man’s voice startled me, coming as a sharp whisper from just behind and causing me to stumble in my own step momentarily leading him to subsequently bump into my back. Again, I had failed to notice his presence before he spoke. “First off,” I turned toward him again, “never heard of it. Secondly–“
“You’ve just fled The Desiccated Mountains to escape a parlous pursuit for your head by bounty hunters and angry mobs alike. You singlehandedly sabotaged that branch of the Adventurer’s Guild and–“
At that point, I lurched forward and covered the fool’s mouth with my hand, dropping one of my bags on the cold road, and peered at him, clutching my teeth. I could see the smile in his eyes; he was just glad he had my attention. He took a long, drawn, breath causing me to pull my hand back and curl my lip. I was thankful that in the bustle of the market-square no one appeared to be paying us much mind.
“Fine, fine.” I sighed.
“Sorry about your rabbit.”
I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, “you know what, don’t worry about it. Just keep quiet and follow me. I suppose you want to talk or something?” To which he answered with hasty enthusiasm. Now there was only the matter of getting rid of the nuisance. Permanently. That was, once I figured out how he had followed me more across the countryside without me noticing.
“Actually, you can pay me back for the rabbit. You said you like duck, right?”