When Steve found his friend again in the Rudder later that morning, he fell down beside him onto a chair with a very unhappy expression.

“I found us a hire, buddy.”
“Some hire, by the look of you.”
“I didn’t make a binding commitment yet. Said I had to talk to you first.”
That made Frank cross his arms, for usually, the two of them were of one mind about almost everything. “So,” he said after a moment. “What kind of bullshit mission is it?”
“Caravan guard”, Steve replied without looking at him while he busied himself with lighting a smoke.
Frank lifted his eyebrows. “Yeah?”
“Scavenger”, Steve added, rolling the smoke between thumb and forefinger.
“Call me thick, but I’m still not with you.”
With a heavy sigh, Steve leaned back in his chair and looked at his friend. “It’s the girl, man.”
Frank blinked twice. “What?”
“You heard me.”

With a heartfelt oath muttered softly under his breath, Frank lit himself a smoke as well. They then exchanged a long look until Steve finally shrugged.
“Not much else in the way of a hire available. All the caravans due are regulars and have their guards.”
“I know.”
“Not likely anything coming by anytime soon.”
“I know.”
“And we’re running out of caps.”
“I know!” Frank clamped his smoke between his lips and crossed his arms. “I fucking know, right?”

They smoked in silence for a while.

“I agreed to meet here in the Rudder tonight”, Steve finally said.
Frank nodded.
“Look, I’m just as happy about this fuck-up as you are.”
Snorting half-heartedly, Frank shook his head. “I know, buddy. I just wondered what the fuck we’re getting ourselves into if we take that hire.”
“Well it can’t be worse than all things going to hell in a hand basket”, Steve replied with a brightness that was as false and unhappy as his smile.

x-x-x-x-x-x

Shortly after the market had closed down, Amanda went to the Rudder, more than a little nervous and still unsure if this was a good idea. There simply were no other mercs available and she needed at least two men with her, due to being unable to contribute to any fighting herself. With a somewhat heavy stomach and a strangely fluttering heart, she looked around until she spotted them at a table in a corner under the stairs, playing cards with their smokes clamped between their respective lips. She watched them for a while and wondered what made her so nervous. They had been nothing but friendly to her.

Maybe that was the problem. Amanda suddenly felt as if all her good intentions of getting on her feet and taking her life into her own hands were crumbling away, and what she was really doing was simply latching on to two strong, protective men who would continue to keep her safe as her parents had done before.

But I need them, she thought to herself. Without a guard, I won’t survive.

And that was really all there was to say about this. So she shrugged, swallowed her anxiety, or tried to at least, and went to the bar to buy three beers with which she slowly approached their table.

The one who must’ve been Frank was sitting with his back to her, but Steve sat opposite of him and saw her coming. He gave his friend a nod and as Amanda came to halt at their table, both men looked up with carefully neutral faces. Amanda realised that she had never had to negotiate with a mercenary before and her nervousness returned in full force, though she managed to keep her voice steady.

“Care for another beer?”
“Sure. That’s my buddy Frank; by the way”, Steve replied and pulled an empty chair over from the adjacent unoccupied table. “Have a seat.”
“Thanks.”

The mercenaries stowed their cards away before Steve leaned back in his chair and Frank folded his arms onto the table. Both men mustered her with intense but not unfriendly gazes.