Over a campfire and a platter of cheese and meat, the three of us talk about our current life. Although he’s a monster, I’m liking Aylwin’s company. He laughs, japes and likes to annoy the nuts out of Carim.
“Out of the three faces, which one do you like the most?” I asked.
“They have their exceptional quality unique to their own. The woman’s as beautiful as much as she is strong. I did not kill her, rather, she died in the stampede of people when our kind was flushed out from the sewers. The shepherd looked handsome under the moonlight. I liked his screams when I took revenge after he flung stones at me. The mercenary is the one who visited me. He has his goons around him, thinking that his weaker men will protect his skin. One look at my face, my real face, and his men left like flies. Leaving him, alone, scared and shaking. It was a mess when he soiled his tunic and cried as I unwove his face out of his body.”
Well, hearing that is the stuff nightmares.
“But if I get to pick, I’ll go with the woman.”
Carim and I liked the shepherd all for different reasons. I expected him to take the mercenary’s face as fancy since he’s a mercenary himself.
“This face is all muscle and no brain. Men like him die faster than people with the pox.”
He liked the shepherd because it’s lean and nimble. It probably couldn’t hold a sword but given with a slingshot, and then it’s shot to kill.
I liked the shepherd the same way Aylwin does. It’s handsome. Well, not as handsome, rather, the boy’s cute. I think it would be nice to use the shepherd’s body.