563 Need for work- Part 2
Calhoun smiled, "From what do I need saving?"
His mother offered him a warm smile, "I can see the emptiness in your eyes. I worry about you, Cal." She knew the fights that Calhoun got himself into, and she had often tried to appease him, asking him to let it go.
"You worry for nothing," responded Calhoun, holding her hand and helping her sit up on the bed again as she found it hard. "Time for your meal, mother." She ate the food that Calhoun had prepared before getting back into bed and fell asleep.
Calhoun stepped out of the house, and he made his way to the next village when he caught sight of the man in the glasses who was speaking to a woman. The woman looked older than the man, and she stood way too close to the person. Though Calhoun didn't converse with anyone in the village, he knew every single person in the village.
For most of his life, Calhoun had grown up in this village. Learning and understanding who he was and what the names people called him and his mother meant. When he was around eight, he had brought so many bodies back home for insulting his mother, that his mother had run out of places to hide the body.
It was hard to hide the bodies with everyone's eyes on them, but they had done well so far. The worthless King had given his mother nothing but misery and pain that continued to haunt even her shadow. Calhoun didn't want his mother to suffer more, and he did things that made her happy, complying with most of her wishes, while some of them were not known to her.
As Calhoun continued to walk, he heard the footsteps that followed him, and he turned his head to his right side to notice it was the person he had met in the alley. Four eyes, thought Calhoun in his mind.
Before the person could speak, Calhoun said, "You are going to get killed one day."
The person smiled, "Why do you say that?"
"The woman with whom you were speaking to right now, she's Mr. Chapman's wife. He's the magistrate of the town Le Bone. Considering he's in his late forties, and the woman is in her early twenties, here in this place, I would say she's come here for a favour. It might not go down well because he's like us," explained Calhoun as he continued to walk, and the person followed him, intrigued that Calhoun knew about the woman.
"You seem to be a knowledgeable person. If you are warning me, I believe you already know my line of work," the young man smiled.
"If you don't want your line of work to disappear, it would be better if you don't talk to me. Especially not where people can see," Calhoun warned, his voice nonchalant.
The man chuckled, "If you ever need help with work, you can always join my work. There are always free spots."
Calhoun's feet finally came to a halt, and he stared at the person. The young man said, "I am Theodore. I am aware of your situation and thought you could earn some money."
"Let me give you some advice, Theodore, in exchange for the help that none has offered me until now," said Calhoun, his dark red eyes staring at the person in front of him. "It would be best for you not to entertain Mr. Chapman's wife unless you want to die. The shopkeeper in the alley is nothing compared to Mr. Chapman. He is a powerful man who has connections."
Theodore gave out a pleasant smile at Calhoun's words, "And I thought you didn't have a heart...Thanks for your advice. You know how things like these pay you well, other jobs aren't rich with gifts and gold coins." Compared to how Calhoun had dressed, Theodore was better dressed because of the money he had made by satisfying the women who craved for company.
"It is your life. Do what you please," came Calhoun's uninterested tone in the conversation he was having.
He was ready to walk away from there, when Theodore said, "I heard your mother is sick. What happened to her?"
"I don't know," replied Calhoun, his eyes slightly narrowed as the topic about his mother had been brought into the conversation. "No one knows."
Theodore nodded his head, "I know a physician who might take a look at her," and he pulled out a folded note to pass it to Calhoun. "It might help. It's a repayment for the last time."
Calhoun found it hard to refuse, and gingerly he took the folded note from Theodore's hand.
"Is it true? That the King of Devon is your father?" asked Theodore, his eyes curiously looking at Calhoun. Lies and rumours often circulated, and it was hard to decipher what the real truth was. Loose women liked to call themselves to be the King's lovers while some claimed themselves to be the King's children which only turned out to be false.
When Calhoun smiled, Theodore looked slightly taken aback by Calhoun's expression that had changed smoothly. He was probably two or three years younger to him, he thought to himself. And even though there was a smile, Theodore could see the emptiness in those dark red eyes, that more than intrigued him.
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