Ah, that lesson. Well, I'd given the question some thought last night, and she was right in a way. Stealing from the poor was never going to be profitable. Stealing from fat merchants was better, but before you knew it people were chasing you out of town and you had a price on your head, which tended to mitigate your already hard-earned profit.
'So will you join us?'
Thieving from invading warlords, on the other hand…
Oh, it might bring its share of problems. Perhaps I'd worn my shoes out quicker than I'd otherwise have done, accumulated some cuts and bruises, even narrowly avoided death on a few occasions. Hadn't it been worth it though, in the end? I'd helped fend off an invasion that would have left the Castoval in shackles. I'd rescued a giant, and made sure he saw his home again. I'd made a little money, and even managed to hang on to some of it.
'We'd be glad to have you along. I think Saltlick would miss you after everything you two have been through.'
Maybe I'd even made a friend or two.
If purloining one unremarkable stone and one hopeless, homeless giant could bring about so much, what else might I be capable of?
The fact was, I'd been stealing from the wrong sorts of people. I'd been failing to fulfil my potential, picking easy targets. I'd been lazy, maybe even a little cowardly.
In short, I'd been aiming too small.
I grinned — at Estrada, at Saltlick, even at Alvantes.
'I'd be honoured to travel with you. Now, did I hear something about visiting the king?'
