Honey Beaumont

by Sara Bushway

  "Honey Beaumont?" the man read aloud.

  "Yes, sir?"

  His eyes ran over the name over and over as he mouthed the words again, probably trying to decipher any ill-meaning or double-entendres within. His eyes met Honey. "Honey Beaumont. Hmmph. Sounds like a stiff drink," the man commented. "Are you sure about this name?"

  "Yes, sir."

  "Very well." The man hurried away through a door behind the desk and returned moments later. He flipped through the papers again and tapped them on the desk to straighten them. "Your paperwork is processed. Here's a copy of everything you've submitted today, excluding your change of name form. Here are your citizenship papers, which state what you are and aren't qualified to do as a citizen of the Southern Canadian Provinces. Here's your identification card, which also declares you a member of the Adventurer's Guild. Without that card, you have no rights as a citizen or an adventurer and cannot obtain copies of any lost documents. Is that clear?"

  Honey nodded his assent.

  "Very good." The man handed over the stack of pages with the stamped-steel identification card on top and smiled a little too sweetly. "Good luck."

  Honey nodded in thanks but couldn't bring himself to speak. He turned toward the other two, holding his identification card at eye level. It was much nicer and heavier than the library card and contained all of his personal information. Andy and Torq approached.

  "Is everything okay, Honey?" Andy asked.

  "Yeah," Honey said breathlessly, his eyes tearing up a little. "Yeah, it's great. I just can't believe it."

  Torq cocked an eyebrow at him. "Believe what?"

  He turned the card around so the others could see the front. "I'm a real adventurer now."

  A smile split Andy's face as she replied, "Yes, you are. Now, let's go start your training."

  *****

  Honey learned a lot about adventuring in his first week as a licensed adventurer. Torq had argued for them to take on a mission so Honey could learn on the job, but Andy insisted on spending a few days teaching him some useful skills, basic combat, and adventuring lore first. They walked to the nearest outpost in New Liberty to settle in for the week. It was a tall, brick building that looked as though it had once been an apartment complex with several floors of rooms. The third floor, which was the top floor, had partially caved in on one side. It worked out well for the Adventuring Guild because the open-air third floor provided a great space for adventurers to practice their skills and spar. The second floor was where the adventurers stayed. The suites had all been converted into dorms with multiple bedrooms, a bathroom, and a common room with a large dining table and a kitchenette consisting of a few cabinets, a small stove with two burners, and a small oven. The burners and oven ran on natural gas because that was cheaper and easier on both the guild and the adventurers. According to Torq, after cooking over an open fire for a while, cooking with electricity felt wrong. It was also less dangerous in his opinion because electricity, especially when ran through old wires in old buildings like this one, had a tendency to be unstable. Each bedroom was exactly the same. It was a small room, about the same size as his room at Anastasia's, with a small bed, a side table with an oil lamp, and a trunk at the foot of the bed. Honey was a little bit disappointed the trunk didn't fit under the bed so that he could give himself some floor space, but that just meant he would be spending more time in the common area with his new friends.

  The first floor had a large lobby where one could register at the desk to reserve dorms, view and accept official missions, file paperwork for changing teams, and sign up to take advantage of some of the guild perks like the sparring ring on the top floor, personal trainers for specific types of combat, magic, or meditation training, and even bards that could be rented to record stories and heroic deeds in nice leather-bound journals, which could then be purchased for a small fee.

  Though autos were a little more common in this area, Andy explained that they often walked among the people so they could stop and help if someone was in need of their services. Torq didn't seem to have the same zest for heroism that Andy did, but he did like having more opportunities to earn some coin doing small jobs for people here and there. It also saved them some coin. The upkeep and fueling of an auto cost several official missions worth of coins per month, and that was if one already knew how to fix the auto them-self when it stopped functioning. Paying someone to work on an auto could cost a small fortune.

  "Besides," Andy had explained, "walking is good for us. Builds muscle and character."

  Torq was not thrilled by her positivity toward walking everywhere, but he didn't argue. The exercise was important, after all. That's something else Andy had taught Honey, which prompted him to start performing calisthenics at night before bed and again in the morning. During their week of training, Andy took it upon herself to teach Honey the basics of combat and meditation. She rarely meditated but insisted it was an important skill to have once they were on the road. After seeing some of the terrible things she had seen and dealing with some very frustrating individuals, civilians and officials alike, meditating seemed to soothe her. It also saved them a trip to the local Church and State building for guidance. Some places did not have their own Church and State building to go to anyway, but she had also found that some of the priesthood was less interested in helping their people and more inclined toward their benefits as government workers; others still were interested in taking people into their offices and confessionals for "private counseling," which had almost put Andy in a tough spot. That's where her combat training came in handy.

  Andy was impressed with Honey's hand-to-hand combat skills. "You fight pretty well for someone who has been kept safe most of his life," she praised. "You really seem to have good coordination and skills when it comes to using your hands."

  Honey ran his hands through his hair and chuckled, "You know, I've heard that before, though not quite in the same context."

  Andy blushed. "Oh, I--I'm sorry," she said, pretending to tighten her ponytail as she turned away. "I really didn't mean it like that. I don't mean to poke fun at you or your life before this."

  Honey shook his head. "You didn't. I did. I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable."

  Andy turned toward him again and sighed. "It's not you that makes me uncomfortable. It's what you were. I mean, you were just a child when they decided you were going to be--that. You had no say in the matter, and that's wrong. The girls there signed on for their own reasons don't bother me, but you…There you were, just a little boy. Taught to entertain and please but not to read or to think for yourself. It's terrible."

  Honey looked down at the floor. Up until this moment, his lack of education hadn't been a point of contention between himself and anyone else, but it embarrassed him on the inside. On top of that, Andy didn't seem to understand just how lucky Honey had been. When he looked up at her again, his eyes glistened.

  "Andy, I know everything I've been through looks bad to you, but just hear me out. No, I didn't choose the life I had, but I was still very lucky. My mom, whoever she was, sold me to the officials and probably wanted for nothing for some time on what she would have gotten from it. She could have left me somewhere to die on my own or finished me off herself, but she didn't. Most boys are sold out to private buyers as 'farmhands,' which is a much nicer term than what they really are, which is…disposable pleasure. I made it past all of that too. I lived in a House with food, water, clothes - though not always nice ones-, and some of the prettiest, sweetest women to ever walk the planet. I didn't have all of the trappings of wealth, and I didn't learn how to read until I left, but I don't hate what's happened to me or where I've come from. It's only made me stronger. How lucky am I that I've made it this far?" Andy's stare seemed to pierce through him as he continued, "Don't feel sorry for me. I know you think that I don't know any better than what I've had, but I do. I'm not sorry for who I was. I'm sorry it bothers so many other people who don't seem to understand it wasn't all ball-gags a
nd bed-chains. I had a life of my own in there, and being out here doesn't change that."

  Andy grabbed him and hugged him. "I'm really sorry," she mumbled into his shoulder. "Not about what you've been through but because I was judging you without really understanding why I was judging you."

  Honey hugged her back and smiled at her as he pulled away. "It's not a big deal," he said. "When you start feeling like my past is somehow hindering me or bothering, just tell yourself, 'It's no big deal.' Because it's not." Andy opened her mouth to say something, but Honey raised his hand in a stopping motion. "It's really not. If it ever was, it isn't anymore. I need you to believe me."

  Andy nodded and glanced around the room in awkward silence for a moment. Honey backed up and poised himself for another bout of combat.

  "Again?" He asked with a smarmy smirk. "Or have I tuckered you out enough that I need to go get Torq?"

  Andy giggled and sighed, "Well, good luck finding him. He was worried about money, so he's out taking odd-jobs and simple missions to keep some coin flowing while I train you."

  Honey was struck by the news.

  "Oh. I didn't realize Torq was so worried. I'm sure I can manage if we need to start taking more missions immediately."

  Andy shook her head. "Not until you're ready. Torq is a team-player and sees the merit in taking the time to train you properly. We wouldn't want to have an incident while we're out there among dangerous folks, now would we?"

  "I suppose not," Honey conceded.

  Andy took her place a few feet away from him and put up her dukes. "Come on! Come and get me!"

  Chapter Nineteen

  After a week in training, Honey felt he was ready for his first mission. Andy signed them up for a simple transport mission during which they would accompany a cart that was traveling through a hostile zone and pick up another mission at the nearest Adventurer's Guild outpost.

  That sounds pretty simple, Honey thought. A great first mission to get me started on this journey!

  Before the mission, Andy took Honey to pick up some gear, which he knew he desperately needed. He intended to keep wearing the cowboy hat Frank had let him keep, but he needed shoes that were not platforms or fancy loafers. He also needed proper adornments for carrying all of the gear needed by the team. After all, he was little more than their pack-mule at this point. His combat training had gone well, but Andy still feared putting him front and center in the middle of the action any time soon could result in tragedy.

  She led him to a little alley in the local shopping district, where there were several small shops that belonged to different artisans, shops that only Adventurers would need to go to because they needed quality gear. Andy first brought him to the leatherworker for a good set of boots. With what money Honey had, he was able to buy himself some nice boots that had a very short heel. They were the color of red clay from the Southwest and adorned with silver cogs and rivets. He also bought himself a leather duster, a nice belt, and some belt-pouches and bottle-holsters to go on it. Andy explained to him the types of things that would be expected of him and what he would need to achieve that. He would be in charge of carrying herbs and spices, which could be used to make medical supplies or for cooking when missions ran long and required camping. He would need the bottle-holsters for water if they took a mission that would lead them out into the dry heat of the desert out west. If not, he may be asked to holster elixirs or potions in them. That struck Honey as odd until he remembered that adventurers often used items and concoctions devised by wizards. It gave them an advantage over non-adventurer citizens, who couldn't buy such things. In a way, it seemed unfair to Honey that ordinary people could not buy the same items in order to defend themselves from bad guys like the ones adventurers often had to deal with. Then again, limiting access to things like guns, potions, and armor meant that fewer thugs could get their hands on them.

  That's the price of freedom, I guess, Honey thought.

  When the government offered missions to adventurers, they provided the hired muscle with a wizard to be the brains of the operation to watch over the situation on behalf of the state and to assist the adventurers if needed. Conversely, adventurers used items created by wizards when they took missions from the guild because they were often less cumbersome and easier than their non-magical counterparts. Honey quickly learned that carrying a kit to repair a broken limb took up much more space than a simple potion on his belt. He was warned that if he ever needed such a potion that it would be very bitter but that all of the broken bones in his body would heal over the course of a few hours and that he would wake up very hungry.

  Goodness, he thought. I hope I'll never need it.

  Andy bought a new crossbow, one of those potions, and another that was sort of opalescent red inside of its bottle. It fizzed when jostled, which made Honey nervous.

  "What is this?" he asked, loading it into his new holster.

  "A firebottle," she answered curtly.

  "And what does it do?"

  Andy thought for a moment and replied. "It has a liquid in it that catches fire as soon as it is exposed to the air and doesn't stop burning for hours. You throw the bottle so that it breaks against a locked door or on the ground by something that needs to be destroyed, and it burns it all up. You never want to hit a person with it, though. That would be torturous and wrong." Honey nodded in understanding, and she continued. "I use them mostly for creating an exit when things get too hairy, and we can't get out. It has only happened a handful of times."

  Honey pointed to the bottle. "That glass is nice and thick, right? I'm not going to catch on fire if I bump it, am I?"

  Andy laughed. "No. It's quite difficult to break. You'll be fine. If you feel uncomfortable carrying it, I'll put on my old potion-holster and carry it myself." That made him feel a little better. He knew he was still new at this job and really didn't want to catch fire in such a way that couldn't be put out. That would definitely put a damper on things.

  Honey sighed, still looking around the store. He had a little bit of money left and wanted to be as prepared. While Andy was discussing the quality of the leather on a vest she had her eye on, Honey meandered around, eyeing all of the interesting things made of leather, some of which he couldn't identify. Then he saw it. With a short, excited gasp, he stepped over to a table and picked up the most beautiful gun-holster he had ever seen. It was thick leather of the same color as the boots he had picked and imprinted with a design that looked like fire encircling a heart. And, even better yet, the belt loops were the right size that it would have fit on his belt, even with his pouches and potion bottles.

  "Andy!" He called over his shoulder. She turned and looked to see him holding the ridiculous thing.

  "Honey, you don't even own a gun. Put that back."

  Honey turned to put it back but instead turned it over in his hands some more.

  "I might have a gun someday. I'll need to protect myself, right?"

  Andy turned again and folded her arms. "You think you're going to be a gunman? Have you ever shot? Have you ever seen a real gun before?"

  Honey nodded. "Of course, I have. When I was--Where I used to work, I met many adventurers. I never touched the gun or anything, but I saw them when they took their gear off."

  "And that qualifies you to buy a gun and holster now?" Her voice was thick with sarcasm.

  Honey shrugged. "I guess you're right. I can't afford the gun anyway. I would only be able to afford the holster and be left with a few coins."

  The shopkeeper leaned out over his counter and bellowed, "Don't you worry, young sir! When you're ready for your own holster, you come right on back to me, and I'll have something really nice waiting for you. You'll see."

  Andy sighed and turned back to him. "Thank you for your sentiments, but Honey is still new. Very new. He won't be in combat, let alone using a gun, for some time. Maybe never, if he's a good supporter."

  Honey gently placed the holster back on the table and moved on.

 
*****

  The next morning, Honey woke up early and did his stretches. In the days leading up to the mission, Torq had reassured him many times that it would be easy-peasy and to just relax. He and Andy had done many missions just like this one because it was easy money and put them somewhere new where they could scope out new missions. Honey didn't care. It was a day to be celebrated. Over a white button-up shirt was a black leather vest with several pockets that covered his torso and smaller pockets that trailed up the straps toward his shoulders. On the back of the vest were several metal rings shaped like a capital letter D, which Honey didn't understand. He couldn't imagine how those would ever be useful to someone who was wearing the vest. Later, Torq explained that the rings were for special circumstances like needing to repel down the side of a building or something or for additional storage. Some bags Honey had seen were simple bags that didn't have straps but instead had a thick loop of leather wrapped around a shiny, metal clip. Apparently, those bags could be clipped to the support guy for the convenience of the other adventurers who needed immediate access to certain items without the worry of waiting for the support to rifle through all of his pockets or the trouble of carrying anything extra themselves. The weaponry and armor alone were almost the weight of carrying a man around anyway. Honey didn't mind. He was also grateful to this little vest. It was unique in that it contained chainmail in the lining. This made the vest very heavy as far as clothing went and also made it a bit hot. Honey didn't mind a bit of sweating if it meant he might survive an otherwise deadly blow. He was also glad that the D-rings in the back didn't seem to show through the thin, leather duster he had picked up. No one had to know they were there, but they would be there if he ever needed them. He had put his old chaps on from his "naughty, little cowboy" outfit that Frank had commissioned for him over his blue jeans. It felt a little strange to be wearing his old stripper gear and his new adventuring gear, but he had to admit that he looked and felt good in those chaps. He looked himself over in the mirror after putting on his belt and adjusting his pouches and holsters accordingly. The bottle holsters liked to slide right up to the front if they weren't properly secured. Something was missing. He rushed over to his bedpost and plucked the cowboy hat. Once returned to the mirror, he slowly lowered it onto his head and struck a pose.