by Ink Bamboo
Once they finished lighting up the torches, both of them stood against the wall, waiting for their new orders. They didn’t dare to move at all until the boy told them they were free to go. After all, the memory of their comrades losing their limbs was still vivid in their minds.
“Carry everything outside,” ordered Amro. “We’re taking it with us.”
It would be a shame to let go of all this wealth now that it was without an owner.
Chapter 20
An unfortunate coincidence.
The forest of Halt was known as the garden of Nyx. It was the last remaining bastion for wildlife; plants, trees, and feral beasts alike. The rest of the territory had already been harvested for all it could offer. Now, only a former husk of the kingdom remained.
Two men now understood this concept better than before. They were traveling through the lush scenery of the forest, taking in their surroundings with mixed expressions of curiosity and awe. Both of them appeared to be injured, a fact highlighted by the bruises and cuts on their bodies. That, however didn’t stop them from traveling at ease. It was like their injuries were naught but an illusion.
It could be seen why trickery and deceit were called their specialty. Even their clothes carried that purpose, carefully resembling those of a forest villager. They were the Weaver brothers, mercenaries with a special talent for manipulating the truth.
They had been hired by the prince of the kingdom in order to achieve a single task: the success of his plans. Their part in this mission was rather simple in fact. They were to spread rumors across the town of Sol, whispering lies to every available listener. Lies that spoke of the rebels’ corruption, and how they had murdered every resident of the forest.
In other words, they had to pretend to be survivors of the massacre, using themselves to convince the townsfolk that a tragic event had happened at the hands of the kingdom’s enemy. Perhaps some people would be able to see through their lies, but those were far too few to disrupt the course of their plans.
They had been on standby for more than a week, waiting for a messenger from the mercenaries to confirm the operation had succeeded on their side. Alas, that messenger had never arrived, forcing them to take the initiative on their side. As such, they took a detour to merge into the forest, faking their way out of it later on.
They had little choice on the matter. Time was ticking, and they were running out of it.
The kingdom's curfew had already been in place for more than two weeks. By this time, the merchants and mercenaries were already growing restless. If they delayed any further, their plan was sure to fail.
As mercenaries, they understood the value of their mission. Many arrangements had already been done for everything to carry on smoothly. Everything from the establishment of a curfew to the recruitment of lumbermen and mercenaries to purge the forest of beasts.
In other words, any mistake at this stage was way above their pay grade. If they were to delay any longer, they wouldn’t be able to hide from the prince's rage.
Unsurprisingly, the Weaver brothers were met with resistance once they arrived to Sol. It was something they had expected given the premise of their lie. However, it all went beyond their wildest expectations.
Once the guards caught sight of them, they immediately took defensive stances. With weapons in hand, the guards threatened them to halt their advance. It was a behavior far too aggressive for the guards of a village where nothing ever happened.
Afraid to blow their covers with unnecessary violence, the Weaver brothers approached the group of guards with their hands held up.
"Noble guards, please help us," said one of them. He hoped his words were enough to ease the tension.
Unfortunately for him, the guards kept their weapons pointed at them. Both he and his brother had no idea how to act. Neither of them were skilled in combat. One wrong move, and they could be looking at death.
An almost imperceptible tear rolled down his face. What kind of sadist god decided to make their journey this hard?
"State your business!" spoke one of the guards. His were shaking as though he was desperate to attack but unwilling to harm an already injured man.
"Sir, we are from the villages to the south. We need to inform the town of grave news. We seek an audience with any noble willing to hear us out," said the other Weaver brother.
The guards tensed up when he stated they wanted to see the nobles. One of the guards even pulled back his bow, ready to shoot at the smallest sign of trouble.
Did we say something wrong? thought the Weaver brothers.
"Respectable guards, we mean no trouble. Our villages were raided, massacred, and burnt to the ground. We barely managed to escape and make our way here. Alas, our wounds kept us from covering too much distance every day, so please have mercy, don’t shoot."
The guards looked at the Weaver brothers and their wounds. The pitiful look in their faces was enough to make them hesitate.
Perhaps they had grown too tense over the last couple of days. After a certain youth had caused a ruckus in the eastern side of town, they were reprimanded and punished for not upholding their duties as guards. As such, they were demoted to guarding the southern gates for the upcoming month, a task every single one of them loathed.
Rumors said the youth in question might be an envoy from the rebel army. That he was here on a mission to destabilize the southern front of the kingdom. The only reason why the nobles had yet to take action was the unknown origin of those claims.
Now, faced with the arrival of these newcomers, the guards felt a sense of dread. Their appearance further complicated the already delicate situation of their town. The veracity of the claims they heralded could be the final spark needed for a full out civil war.
Away from the two supposed villagers, the guards deliberated over what they should do next.
“Should we report to our higher-ups?” one of them asked.
“I’ll be damned if we do. They’ll probably use that as an excuse to do away with us if anything else goes wrong in the future,” another one said.
“But they have information that might be related to that boy. If we hold this back from the nobles and they find out later, our heads will be displayed on a stake,” argued a third.
After some deliberation, the guards decided to tie some rope against the newcomers’ hands, only then taking them inside the city. If the two of them were telling the truth, then the situation in their city was more dangerous than they had originally assumed.
Both of the Weaver brothers felt relieved. It seemed like their explanation was accepted. Even if they felt dissatisfied about the ropes and the roughness they were treated with, it was still a better alternative than telling the prince they had failed to accomplish their mission. If that happened, a tight rope around their hands would be the least of their worries. In fact, the rope might end up going around their necks instead.
Contemplating the results of their failure, both brothers followed the guards. It was an uneventful walk until they arrived at a seemingly wealthy house in the eastern area of the city. To their surprise, the house was crowded with people. Nobles and merchants from all kinds of different backgrounds were engaged in a heated argument.
The conversation was so frenzied, it took some time for the nobles and merchants to notice the arrival of the guards and the two men tied behind their backs.
The first one to approach them was a seductive woman followed by two burly men. Her hair was a dull golden color, reminiscent of the color of wheat, while her eyes were a deep, enchanting green. She was the owner of this house, a ‘small’ merchant who owned a few stores in the center of the city.
The Weaver brothers were surprised by her appearance. She was a mesmerizing woman with a type of savage allure to herself. The fact that she could command so many to convene in her home was proof of her authority. Both men gulped, unsure of what to say when faced with her domineering, yet seductive eyes.
She stood with her bodyguar
ds behind her, prideful and unmoving. Unlike most of the nobles and merchants here, she had built a fortune of her own through her hard work and decisive — albeit questionable — business tactics. She wasn’t one of those who got her worth through inheritances nor political nepotism. This made her all that much scarier. Her methods for dealing with people were unusually crafty, yet effective.
Thankfully for the Weaver brothers, the guards were more familiar with her as they introduced both of them with ease. Seeing the bodyguards were not barring their way, one of the guards stepped forward to say, "My lady, these two come from the small villages in the forest. They bring news that may be of importance."
Silence took control over the room for a moment as many of the nobles and merchants tried to hear the message brought upon by the guards. Noticing their attitude, the woman looked at both brothers with an analytical gaze. Her eyes were just like the prince’s. It was unlike the nobles both of the Weaver brothers had met in the past.
"Bring them to my room," she said, turning around to walk away.
Her reaction caused the guards who brought both ‘villagers’ to feel rather disappointed. A brief “thank you” or a reward of some kind would have been nice given how hard the choice to let them in was to make. Unfortunately for them, they were in no position to make demands.
They weren't the only ones unhappy with the situation, however. Many nobles and merchants threw judgmental looks in the woman's direction. It was clear to them that she was trying to hog the information using her authority as the host of the party. The fact that she left them in the dark was annoying in its own way.
Some things never changed, though. As she walked away, the gazes of many men followed her all the way into her room. Behind her, the two burly bodyguards following her dragged the two so-called villagers with them.
Once she was in the privacy of her room, she took a seat on a lavishly furnished sofa and crossed her shapely legs one over the other. It was all calculated. The action parted her scarlet dress into two tempting strokes of red, causing both of the Weaver brothers to gulp. They were unable to avoid tracing the movement of her legs with their eyes, causing the woman to smile in satisfaction.
She knew she could attribute her success in part to her cunning and talent for business. That, however, didn’t diminish the role her looks had played. She knew what she had, and more importantly, she knew how to use it.
Swirling a glass of wine, she said, "Tell me, what is this urgent news the two of you bring?"
The Weaver brothers took a brief moment before they came back to their senses. The allure of the woman before them was so great that they had lost focus of their goal. Sure enough, there were weapons more lethal to men than iron.
"My lady," answered one of them. "Our villages were raided, massacred and burnt to the ground. A troop of men claiming to be the envoys of the rebel forces tried to convince us to join them. However, once we declared our loyalty to the kingdom, they decided to take our families and homes from us. Only we were able to escape. Please, my lady, I beg you help us get some justice for our families."
The woman stared at him for a few seconds. Her eyes seemed to convey her interest in his story, for it was much too relevant to her current situation. The arrival of the boy who took control of the slums had placed great pressure on those with power.
She still remembered the benefits she had been able to get from Slyfox and his men. Her shops were guaranteed protection while her competitors kept suffering accidents every once in a while. But it was different now. It didn't seem like the new leader of the slums was interested in those kinds of services. Word had it that he had taken the task of teaching the combat-capable men and women of the slums how to hunt, just so they could be less reliant on the town's own small economy.
The loss of benefits had bothered her slightly, but it wasn't enough to cause her to lose sleep. It was the information from some rumors that made her worry. Whispers around the streets said that the young boy was actually an envoy from the rebel troops up north.
If that was true, her life as a newly arisen aristocrat was bound to come to an end just like all of those at the north. The rebels had no mercy towards people like her, who had sworn loyalty to the crown. It was madness. She refused to have her life torn down by a child who hadn't even finished developing.
She had her doubts about the rumors, but the events from what had happened a few days ago influenced her beliefs. As if it wasn’t enough to take Baron Lapas’s life, the youth had the audacity to raid the deceased noble’s belonging. It wasn’t even a case of greed. Her subordinates reported he gave them all away to those from the slums, keeping only a small part to himself.
Such daring acts made her and the other nobles worry immensely. What if they became next on his list?
They would have gathered their troops in order to confront him, but the internal conflicts amongst the nobility didn't allow anyone to accept a place in the vanguard. No one wanted to send their troops in first after seeing the boy's thirst for blood. Whoever headed the attack was bound to lose his combat force to the boy's hands. The greed inside the hearts of every noble and merchant here wouldn't allow for such a concession.
And now, the information brought by the two men before her confirmed her worries. It seemed like the rebels had truly chosen to invade the southern border. Their bad situation just kept on getting worse.
There is profit in chaos, however.
A small smile surfaced on the woman's face. She was surprisingly clever. There was always a profit to be made somewhere and her merchant instincts were telling her this was it.
With this information, she could make some wise investments before the other nobles found out. It was her fortune that these men appeared as she called for a meeting in her house. It enabled her to monopolize all the benefits to herself.
With a rough idea in her mind, she took some pen and paper before calling one of her subordinates to her side.
"Quick, go and take this letter to the carrier pigeons. Make sure no one follows you. It must be sent to my friends in the capital."
Like that, she passed on a letter to the burly man. Inside, she had included some careful instructions alongside a portrait of the boy leading the slums. She and the nobles had previously prepared it in order to place bounty posters on him.
“Make sure it’s sent tonight, there is no room for error,” she said, turning back to look at the two so-called villagers.
"I must thank you for your warning," she said, doing her best to appear amiable. "I'll make sure to inform the proper authorities. I assure you that your families will be avenged."
Both men relaxed. With this, they were sure their mission was a success.
However, the merchant wasn’t over with them as much as they were with her. She put forwards her best smile as she extended a request, "I'd like you to help me with something. Would you be willing to tell the people in the town center of what you went through? I'm afraid they would disregard my words of warning, while yours might be more compelling as survivors from this tragedy."
Both men nodded their heads in an almost instinctual manner. Their mission was to create a story from their lies; they had no reason to refuse.
"Please, do follow my assistant then. He will show you where your lodging lies for the time being. Wash yourselves, I know what you endured must have been exhausting," she said. "Rest well, you are safe now."
“Thank you,” they said. “We’ll take our leave then.”
After expressing their thanks, both men left the room, leaving the shrewd merchant alone on her sofa. She seemed almost melancholic as she swirled the wine in her hand and stared at their backs. Only the smile on her face painted a different reality.
In truth, all she wanted through that gesture was to delay the information from spreading another day. That would be enough time for her to make the right investments and gain a lead over the other merchants. After all, information was power.
Chapter 21
> Two bishops, one board.
As political warfare raged in the city of Sol, an eerie cooling silence filled the forest of Halt. It had been days since the woods had entered such a state. The cause behind it could be traced back to two particular individuals: a man and a woman.
Both of them were cloaked in black, but that did little to call attention away from their features. The woman was as charming and dangerous as a rose. Neither the attention her crimson lips drew, nor the silver locks of hair flowing from the sides of her hood could do anything to distract people from her seductive gaze. Her two eyes looked like clear sheets of crystal tinged with drops of blood, something that could make even the most disciplined soldier lose his focus.
Whilst she was seductive, the man next to her didn’t lose in terms of calling attention to himself. There was a distinct sense of danger to him. His coat did little to cover his underlying muscles while his hood could not distract from his lifeless gaze. The unending vitality exuding from his body and the barren look in his eyes gave him an uncanny and contradictory feeling.
For the past week, they had been scurrying over the deepest parts of the forest in search of something. Despite their best efforts, however, they met with little success. Only one spot in particular had caught their attention. One where they found the remains of a group of mercenaries next to a beast’s decayed bones.
The wolf-like creature attracted their attention because it was covered in a dark miasma. The dark air around it indicated traces of interference with the laws of life and death, a taboo in most lands. However, this didn’t disgust them. On the contrary, it filled their eyes with devotion. After all, they were apostles of death.