Chapter 3
If you want another important lesson to take from this story, let it be this – never owe a man a favor. No one ever calls in a favor for something easy, or simple, or safe. If that was the case, they'd just do it themselves.
I had in my possession during this time a certain magical gem that I'd acquired several years ago through yet another ill-timed adventure. It had a name, but I didn't care what it was called. I just referred to it as The Cursed Gem, or The Blighted Gem, or sometimes just The Worst Mistake Of My Life Gem, although after a while it just became known as That Stupid Rock. It was magically potent, certainly evil, and hunted by a number of very powerful people, most of whom would have killed me if they knew I still had it. I say that because no one knew I still had it. It was only in my possession because I owed a man a favor, and for some insane reason, I chose to let this ruse he'd concocted, my secret guardianship of this gem, be how I would repay that favor. I've rarely in my life let myself be indebted to anyone, and even when I am, I avoid honoring those debts like I avoid tax collectors, and the mistake I made in honoring this one was an important reason why. Because of That Stupid Rock, I spent years of my life in peril, I suffered through bitter love and bastard children, and I endured a seemingly endless string of misfortune. There will be time to tell all of those stories, but for now, I'd like to relate the beginnings of how what I thought was bad luck at the time, was just another step down the road of misery That Stupid Rock no doubt brought me. And it started three days after that first night with Meranna, when Hafnard's servant Rufus came to see me.
I waited in the back courtyard of the palace, where Aravon led the household guard, conscripts from the villages of Aberweyn, and the hired men Hafnard had secured, including my own, in training exercises. Aravon would be leading this motley army, although I barely heard him talk the entire time. His lieutenant did most of the shouting, a burly old man with wild hair named Haelis who seemed to be quite comfortable yelling at the nervous young men that lined the walls around him. The courtyard was small, too small to really lay out the three hundred and seventy two men that made up the bulk of Brecon's army, so instead the commanders would set up in their respective positions and the men were made to watch as horns sounded and commands shouted in a fake battle. I wasn't about to parade around like the others, so I made Saras take my place, and I smiled as he moved around at the sound of a horn, pretending to lead a charge on the enemy's right flank. Better him to look the fool than me.
I'd only consented to let my men come here because Saras was sure he'd taught them enough in the last few days to at least look the part of soldiers, and because I needed them to make an appearance with the other men at some point. I couldn't keep them sequestered away for the entire week without making people - especially the ones paying me – worried about my ability to come through on our deal. Urik's men, or slaves, or whatever they were now, were a decent bargain for Brecon, because they'd arrived already outfitted with weapons and armor, which meant Brecon could focus on equipping his own people, and that was no small expenditure. But even with that bonus, I would lose any shot at making my 140 silver on the back end if it turned out that they were worthless on the battlefield. So I let them parade around a bit today, and then Saras would take them back out into the forest the rest of the week to let them train out of sight of prying eyes.
We spent a solid three hours out there in the early morning before breaking to eat, and it was then that Rufus found me, while I chomped on a pear.
“Good morning to you, lord,” he said in his annoyingly high-pitched voice.
“Morning.” I nodded at him politely, in no mood to be conversational, then turned to look back at the other men milling about the dining hall. Unfortunately, he couldn't be deterred.
“I came by to see if you might need anything today. Perhaps some fresh linens or clothes brought to your room?”
“No, I'm fine.”
“Do you or your men need anything else to eat? More fish, maybe?”
“No.” I looked around the room, hoping to find someone else to pretend to talk to, but I found myself unfortunately alone.
“I understand from speaking to my master that you're not entirely pleased with your arrangement here, so I would be honored to help make things as pleasing for you as possible.”
He referred to the daily quips I made to Hafnard about getting more money. I wasn't deliberately badgering him to renegotiate our deal, but I thought if I could spend the week pestering him with subtle jibes then maybe he'd relent and we'd get an extra silver or two just to leave him alone. Of course, the first lesson I learned about Hafnard was to never expect him to make things easy for me. He'd obviously countered me by sending his own annoying assistant to wear me down with niceties, and I could already see that it was probably going to work.
“I'm fine. But I'm sure some of these other men may need attending to.”
“Actually, my lord,” his voice quieted to a whisper and he leaned in close, “I thought I may be able to help you instead.”
I furrowed my brow, not quite sure what to make of that. I was never one to shy away from what could be an interesting situation, though, so I gave him a quizzical look and played along.
“Does this involve money?” I whispered back.
“It does.” His lips curled ever so slightly, and I should have known then that he had me in his snare. But how are we to learn valuable lessons without making foolish mistakes?
“Tell me more.”
Rufus motioned me to follow, leading the two of us away from the dining hall and out through the side of the palace into the barracks, which were empty at the moment. He closed the door behind him, and after carefully making sure the room was empty, he stood in front of me with a serious look on his face.
“You seem like a man who knows his value. And my guess is that it's more than what you're being paid here?”
I wasn't sure what to say to that. He surely hinted at something that wouldn't go over well with Lord Brecon. Not that I cared. But I wasn't about to be caught in a trap. “So I've said many times to your master.”
“What if I told you that I have another master? One who could pay you more?”
I paused, letting the question hang in the air while I thought through the ramifications of what he hinted at. Finally, I decided to skip the theatrics get it out in the open. “You mean Lord Kurich?”
He looked a little surprised that I'd jumped ahead in the conversation without him, but he nodded. “I do. And I'm trusting you with that information because I know what kind of man you are.”
“And what is that?”
“Proud. Skilled. Clever. And not happy. You are a warrior beyond any of these other men here, but you aren't being treated as such.”
He laid it on thick, but I didn't care. I liked having him stroke my ego. And at the time, I was content to let him do it because I considered it all part of the sales pitch. “Kurich knows of me?”
“He does. I told him. And he wants men like you on his side.”
“And he would pay for men like me?”
“He would. Perhaps... fifteen silver up front, per man, and twenty after. And a share of the spoils, of course.”
I was hooked by that point, but I made a point of playing coy a little longer. It wouldn't do for me to look too eager.
“I made an oath to Lord Brecon. I couldn't very well break it just because you flash some extra coin at me. Coin I have yet to see, by the way.”
“I would ask you a question, lord Ondraedon. What's more important to you, your oath, or your life?”
What I did next was somewhere between smiling at the man and blatantly laughing in his face. “Is that a threat? Because it's not very convincing coming from you.”
“It is a threat, but not from me.” He paused, and took another cautious look around, even though the room was no less empty than before. “No one here would say as much, but Cinnich is in a much better position than Aberweyn. Lord Brecon ha
s more money than Lord Kurich, much more money, but he's no general. You've seen him with his priests? He lets them lead him around like a dog. In another year or two, they'll be the Lords of Aberweyn.
“And Aravon, he may be the greatest duelist in the land, but he is not a leader of men. Kurich is a leader, a true leader. He commands respect, and he will not only win this fight, but he'll take Aberweyn and he'll share that plunder with the men who helped him get it. And I think you understand that taking Aberweyn is far more profitable than taking Cinnich.
“My words are not a threat. They are a prediction. The men out there in that hall will die when they attack Cinnich, and you will be one of them.” He held out his hand. “Unless you choose not to be.”
I have to admit, I was soundly convinced by his argument, on more than one level. I'd never taken my oath to Brecon too seriously, but I also had no desire to casually dismiss it without good reason. But Rufus here had just given me several. There was certainly much more money to be made by switching sides, but until now, I hadn't seriously considered the fact that we could lose this battle. The concern I had about the men Hafnard had hired surfaced again, only this time it screamed at me. And now that I let all of the doubts I had about this endeavor sink in, I was floored by the facts. We weren't an army, we had little time to train, and our battle plan was rudimentary at best. Lord Brecon had put his faith in honor and religion, and not in the actual men who would fight for him. And Rufus was absolutely right that Aravon wasn't made to be a general. But I wouldn't cave just yet.
“You bring up interesting points. But I'm not sure I'd be so eager to break my oath, my solemn word, for something like fifteen silver up front. Now... twenty five might be something we could talk about.”
“Fifteen. And perhaps I won't mention to your men that you spent the last three nights with the Lady Meranna.”
Damn.
“I can live with fifteen.”