Everything One Deserves

It remained unclear whether Frovis didn't know what the meeting was going to be about or whether he simply didn't want to tell me. However, our path led us far away from Cray—that much was certain. We moved inexorably toward the two fortresses at the center of Strandburgh.

“Gommond doesn’t reside at one of these castles, does he?”

“He doesn’t.”

“Then where are we going.”

“You’ll see… Don’t worry, I think the beadle is quite fond of you, lad.”

Finally, we climbed a flight of stairs and reached the entrance to the smaller castle, which, judging by the sun, was located further east.

The guard at the door simply nodded at us as we entered. Inside, two men were waiting for us who were dressed a bit more lavishly than Frovis.

“Is that our noble guest?” asked the shorter of the two men.

“No, that’s the Earl of Widwalgh. I found him by accident while rummaging through your mother’s pantry.”

“Moron…”

“I’m out of here. Good luck, lad,” said Frovis, and waved goodbye with a laugh.

“Follow us. They are already waiting for you.”

“Who exactly?”

“You’ll see.”

I guessed I had no choice but to keep playing along. As long as they didn't try to confiscate my arms, they probably wouldn’t be after my life, would they?

We climbed another flight of stairs—two floors—and stopped in front of a large door to knock.

We didn't have to wait long, and a man dressed just like the two guards who were escorting me opened the door for us.

“Step forward, good Inomar,” commanded a gentle but firm voice that was still unfamiliar to me.

I did as I was told. Seated in an armchair next to a low table was an obviously important man, better dressed than anyone else I had encountered on Funa so far.

In the background, the beadle Gommond stood at the window. Including my escort, there were a total of four knights in the room, which took up positions all around me.

These men knew what they were doing; trying to take my sword and dagger would have been an unnecessary provocation.

“Don't worry, these are just precautions; I don't intend to turn on you.”

“You seem well prepared to me, good sir… or lord? I can't say the same for myself. Would you please reveal to a humble traveler who I have the pleasure of meeting?”

“See, that boy certainly has excellent manners. A truly distinguished, upright nobleman, isn’t he? And curious, too.” Gommond interjected without turning to look at me.

“How could such a gluttonous cutthroat like you possibly judge something like that, Gommond?” the man still unknown to me replied, provoking the beadle to laugh heartily.

“Please excuse our overly familiar tone. I’m the Bureeve of Strandburgh, Mirrond from the House of Talmish, most faithful retainer of the Mareeve of Funa.”

I placed my hands flat on my thighs and lowered my chin to my chest.

Mirrond stood up and did the same.

“My lord?”

“I may not know nearly enough about your lineage, yet, but according to my research, House Igeoth is of the Blood, serves the kings of Ingeond in the highest offices, and some even at the hallowed court of the First at Aur. So I ask you, my lord, to drop the false modesty.”

I had to restrain myself to keep my hand from twitching toward my sword. The noose around my neck tightened; my eyes narrowed.

“Why did you call me here, Lord Bureeve?”

The guards had sensed my tension, and their hands had drifted toward their weapons, but the Bureeve gave a signal, and they withdrew them again.

“I mean you no harm. But I was very interested to hear about your activities. Two days in my city, and you've already slain two of the Underhanded, three of the Golden Dozen, and five of the Black Hansa. Impressive! How many will it be next time? I'm still torn between six and eight. Good old Gommond here is betting on the latter.”

“I didn’t…”

“I do not wish to hear any justification, my Lord, but rather to understand your intentions. Not least when it comes to your collaboration with Herning and his stubborn churls.”

“The encounter at the market square was a coincidence, as was the one with the Goldens. In one instance, I defended a noblewoman; in the other, a child—both of better standing then the thugs who tried to slay them without provocation.”

“Brilliant explanations. Now on to the Churls and the Blacks.”

“I was offered a job to investigate smugglers, who try to harm Strandburgh’s trade and security, and I took it—not realizing that this would offend the Mareeve or his retainers.”

“Rest assured, no offense was taken, but it did spark some curiosity.”

Now Gommond turned to me as well and cleared his throat.

“As promised, you will stay away from the Underhanded, Child of the Blood, and because of Mirrond's boundless patience we will tolerate your dealings with the city's scum. It is in our best interest to put the Golden and the Blacks in their place. However, should we ask you in the future to refrain from further cooperation with Herning’s band, we expect you to be understanding,” the Beadle said with surprising seriousness.

“And remember that nothing gets past us in Strandburgh—especially nothing that could harm our lord’s rule,” the Bureeve added.

“Understood.”

“Fabolous—you're free to leave, my lord.”

All six people present bowed to me in a manner befitting my status, as they knew it. I returned the gesture to Mirrond, nodded to the others, and left the room, following the two guards who had already escorted me in.

When I got outside, Frovis was waiting for me again.

“So, did you have fun?”

“You have no idea.”

“I really don't—don't hold it against me,” said the ward knight with a laugh.

“Do you want me to take you somewhere, lad?”

“Garwich.”

“As you wish,” said Frovis, motioning for me to follow him.

I avoided further questions about what I was up to, and instead we spent the rest of the walk talking about wine, women, and food.

When I had recognized a street from my previous visit to Stooke’s workshop along Carver, I wished my guide farewell and waited for him to leave the vicinity.

Fortunately, I found the way to my destination quickly enough and knocked on the side entrance.

One of the two women from the previous meeting with the Churls opened the door a crack, gave me a quick once-over, and invited me in.

Once again, we went into the same room, from which I heard excited whispering this time—whispering that fell silent as we approached.

The woman motioned for me to go in. There they were: Herning, Stooke, and a third man I didn't know yet. Their eyes were fixed on me as I entered.

“Better late than never, my friend. Close the door behind you,” Hern greeted me.

“The odd one next to me is Master Nixie; I'm sure Carver has told you about him—after all, the boy is his apprentice in the art of runes,” Stooke added.

“And what a fine apprentice that boy is. Not surprising, given his blood, is it?” the rune master spoke up.

“Sorry, I had to take a bath and ran into a friend afterward,” I replied.

“You make a lot of friends pretty quickly, don't you?” asked the headman of the Churls.

“I do… And just as many enemies.”

“Ha, I guess the Blacks learned that the hard way! Vedel has already reported back to us and boasted in front of the entire band about your daring fight against the witch.”

“That gruff giant was blinded most of the time anyway—what could he possibly have witnessed?”

“Oh, Carver confirmed it, of course. Don't downplay your skills. And while we're on the subject, we'd like to call on your services again right away. What do you say, Inomar?”

“And the pay?”

“You’ll get what you’ve already earned as soon as we're done here. But there could be a lot more to earn. So let me ask again: What do you say?”

“Well, what's a few more bodies going to make a difference, if it is for the good of the Isles, my friends? Tell me more!”