Jack looked down at his shaking hands as he was about to lie to his mother. Sorry, Mom, I have to. He looked up at his mom and forced a smile. He took a deep breath, trying to recall what he’d decided to say. “I was tired and couldn’t run anymore, so I kept walking at the edge of the forest. I don’t know how long I walked. I didn’t know how far away they were. I walked past a large tree and felt a sting in my side.” Jack pointed to where the arrow had hit. I wish I could tell you what I had to do.

  His mom squeezed his hands. “How did you escape?”

  “The archer must have cut across the forest to head me off,” Jack lied. “I turned and ran back into the forest. I don’t know how long for… I tripped and fell next to a hole where a tree had fallen over. I crawled inside and stayed in the hole and prayed to the Gods they wouldn’t find me.”

  I had to kill someone and hide in a hole next to their warm, dead body! He shuddered, recalling how the dead body felt.

  “You poor boy,” his mom said, holding his hands tighter.

  “I hid in the upturned roots of the fallen tree for what felt like hours, hoping they wouldn’t find me. I stayed hidden in the dark with my dagger ready with bugs crawling all over me!” He took a deep breath to calm his nerves. “I heard them walk by me three times, Mom. They were talking about killing me and selling my stuff. They thought I might die in the woods from the arrow wound. They were annoyed that they couldn’t find me to take my belongings.”

  Jack paused to compose himself. “As they talked about me dying, they were laughing and joking, as if it were just another normal day. They were more worried about getting a share of my stuff than about my life. They are… they are no better than bandits, Mom.” Jack sniffled. I wish I could tell you I got one of the bastards.

  His mom looked angry now.

  Jack continued, his voice a little shaky, “It started to get dark, and they must have given up looking as I didn’t see or hear them again. I waited until I was sure they were gone before walking home.”

  His mother tightened her grip on his hands, sorrow and anger mingling on her face. She was crying. “You-you did the right thing; it was the only thing you could do. I’m so sorry you had to go through that. It’s not your fault, Son. It’s not your fault.” She hugged him.

  A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

  Tears streamed down Jack’s face. He felt no sympathy for the dead rogue; the rat bastard had earned every bit of his fate. Yet reliving what he had done, even if it wasn’t the real version, resulted in him feeling a deep sadness. They tried to kill him over a few coins and he had to kill a young man.

  Anna stood up and shook her head. “We have to do something. There are laws…” She paced the room. “Do you remember what they look like? Could you describe them to the royal guards?”

  Jack nodded. “Is that wise, though? It would be my word against theirs… and what if they aren’t imprisoned and come after me… come after us?”

  “They… but…” His mom looked confused and angry as realisation hit. “We can’t let them get away with something like this. There are laws…”

  “I know, but it’s their word against mine. They could say I stole their kill and attacked them.” Jack continued, “There’s a rule among adventurers: whoever attacks a monster first gets the loot. Even though it was a tiny scratch, they wouldn’t be lying if they said they attacked it first.” He groaned as he stood up to comfort his mother. “I don’t believe they’ll be able to recognise me. When I killed the goblin, blood sprayed into my hair and on my face. You saw how much dirt and blood I was covered in. They won’t know who I am. I think we are safe.”

  His mom was agitated, but she nodded. “We have to do something. If they’ve done it once, they’ll do it again” She sat on Jack’s bed. “They have to be stopped.”

  With a groan, Jack sat beside her. “I can draw their likeness. I’d already thought about this on my walk back to the city.” He was lying; he was making this up on the fly. “I can send an anonymous letter to the Inquisition with a drawing of each of the adventurers and let them know what they are like.” He’d adapted his plan to deal with Baron Greaves and the other blood mages.

  Anna nodded. “Hmm… there was that nice lady who visited…” She trailed off. “Would that be enough?” she asked.

  “I don’t know,” he said. “It will keep us safe… it will keep you, Dad, Polly, and little Richard safe.” He remembered the little orphan girl. “And Zia. We’ll be safe. That’s all that matters.”

  She looked at the floor. “I don’t know.” His mother was too caring and law-abiding; she trusted the authorities and rarely made selfish decisions. “We should discuss this with your father.” She looked at the time. “I have to get his breakfast ready, he’s going for a hike soon…” She stood to leave. “Are you up for a nice breakfast?”

  Jack smiled. He knew his mom would bring his father into this, so that was no surprise. “Breakfast sounds good, Mom.” He groaned as he stood back up and walked towards his fresh clothes like an old man with a bad back. “Give me about three days to get dressed and cleaned up, and I’ll meet you in the kitchen,” he joked in his best elderly voice.

  Anna chuckled as she left his room to prepare breakfast.