The next morning, Gerald took his seat in the Lord's hall again. His three aides were present and a discussion was about to start when a guard entered the hall and announced the arrival of Gerald's cousins.
"You three can leave," Gerald said.
"Yes, my lord." The two ministers and the head knight bowed and left the hall.
Gerald took a deep breath. "Let them in."
Soon, his two cousins walked into the hall. Gerald saw Grina first. She was the older one of the pair at the age of 32. Her brother Estor followed. He was only 25 years of age. Before they arrived in front of Gerald, he'd noticed how dignified Grina was. He had seen his share of noble ladies when he was still in the Andross Empire. He believed that Grina could compare to the most outstanding of them with her confident bearing. Her brown hair was made into a crown braid that made her look all the more serious. Her brother beside her paled in comparison. He was slightly taller but less noticeable.
They both came in front of Gerald and performed a curt bow. "We greet the Viscount."
Gerald nodded with a sneer. "And the Viscount greets you," he said, snorting. "Or should I have come to pay my respects to you in your manor? Forgive me if I haven't shown you enough courtesy."
Estor looked embarrassed and his eyes darted from side to side, avoiding Gerald's stare. Grina on the other hand received the mockery with a genial smile. "I hope the Viscount won't take offense for our delay in visiting the keep and paying our respects."
"I hope that there are no bandits in the basin by tomorrow, but not all hopes come true," Gerald said, meeting Grina's eye. His older cousin didn't retract her eyes. She faced his piercing glare with unchallenging but composed eyes. She didn't waver for a moment.
Grina soon sighed. "I truly have to apologize for our negligence," she continued. "I understand that your lordship might have been too busy to know of our recent predicament. Let me explain—"
"Let's forsake the worthless pretenses," Gerald interrupted her. "You had many opportunities to visit me. So, cousins, why have you not accepted your failure?"
Grina's gaze sharpened at his words but she soon regained her soft expression. Her brother, however, was getting more and more anxious with every exchange of words.
"Tell me, what is it that you truly believe?" Gerald continued. "Tell me what you always say among yourselves but never announce. Or perhaps tell me what you've announced before my arrival."
This time Grina replied with some disguised contempt. "We will not be fooled into open treason," she said. "We're loyal to the house. We always will be."
"On my honor," Gerald stood up, eying Grina, "you will be accused of nothing. Speak your mind. Is it not better than hiding from me in your manor like vermin?"
Grina hesitated as she looked up at him. Her lips twitched as she suppressed her thoughts. Then she seemed to visibly relax while some malice finally came over her face. "Very well, dear cousin. We never believed that you should be named Viscount. You should have stayed where you were."
"What right do you have to make such a decision?" Gerald chortled. "Is that all you have for a reason? This is folly."
Grina's face flushed in anger. "Folly? What do you know of folly? What do you know about this whole Viscounty? I have lived my whole life in Ard, suffering when it suffered and mourning when it mourned. What do you know of ruling? You don't even know what your seat is worth." She pointed at his seat. "You just woke up after a long sleep and found yourself a Viscount. That does not mean you deserve it."
Gerald's expression finally turned serious. He climbed down the three steps and moved closer to Grina until his face was only a breath away from hers. "You have judged my worth without seeing me," Gerald said, his voice mild but utterly cold. "You have judged my competence without measuring me. You even question my legitimacy. But I will not have it." He smiled, a menacing smile, a smile that a predator would give its prey before swallowing it whole. Then he whispered, "This was never about me, cousin. It was never about who is worthy and who is not. You have coveted that which isn't yours. You can keep coveting it, dreaming of it. But if you ever stretch your hands towards that which you have no claim for, you will earn nothing but ruin for yourself."
Silence ensued in the hall. Gerald didn't move, nor did Grina. Estor was still fidgeting on the side, almost whimpering. Gerald had long understood that he was just a puppet for his sister.
The silence only carried the sound of breathing; grina's grudged panting and Gerald's deep breaths.
"Listen well," Gerald spoke again, breaking the silence. He turned around and climbed back up to his seat. "This is the last time you'll ever be allowed to speak or act on your foolish desires. Consider this as having been your chance to vent all that rage you've carried. This is my sole warning to you. I will not give another."
Grina was still silent, her eyes like needles aiming to pierce Gerald's body. He didn't care, though. They would learn to obey or they would suffer for disobeying.
Estor decided to speak when he found that his sister wouldn't. "We understand, cousin," he gulped. "P-Please don't take offense."
"You may leave." Gerald waved his hand. His two cousins quickly walked out of the hall. Grina was less dignified and more livid in her pace as she left.
"Summon Robard for me," Gerald told the guard who came in.
It wasn't long before the head knight returned to the Lord's Hall. "My lord," Robard saluted.
"Robard, have you looked into the matter of the Red Rain band?" Gerald asked.
The middle-aged knight looked conflicted for a moment then spoke. "I'm not exactly certain of my findings, my lord."
"What do you mean?"
"Some of the band's men have returned to Ard from the south," Robard explained. "They said that the band would come to Ard in a month, but I'm not sure that will be the case. The Red Rain band is in the baronies south of the southern pass. They might come much later than a month if someone provides them with some coin and a new enemy."
Gerald sighed. "We will just assume that they will come in a month," he said. "We need to regain the heavy trade from the south." He was aware that some merchants would appear in Ard from time to time, bringing light goods. They would only buy light goods from within Ard as well. Carrying heavy goods like grain and arms would only make them an easy target for bandits. These merchants usually traversed complicated routes or paid heavy tolls to the bandits to be able to trade in the basin. "Robben Luwin and his crew must be removed. We need to provide safe passage for the merchants coming from the rest of the Kingdom. We will need the help of those mercenaries to remove him. The already existent enmity will hopefully be enough to motivate them."
"Yes, my lord," Robard nodded. "I will bring you the leader of the band once they arrive in Ard."
"One more thing," Gerald said. "How would the Red Rain band return from the south while Robben Luwin occupies the southern lands of the basin?"
Robard shook his head. "It might seem like the Silver crew rules over the whole south of the basin," the head knight said. "But they have no dominance over the southern pass."
"That's quite odd," Gerald cocked his head. "Why would they not occupy the pass?"
"Do you remember the mine in the southern pass, my lord?" Robard asked.
"Yes," Gerald nodded. "The one my father sold to another noble. Count Alaric, I think?"
"Yes," Robard said. "The bandits have been avoiding conflict with the Count. That includes staying away from the pass. There are also other reasons. While occupying the pass would be beneficial for robbing everyone who enters the basin from the south, it would also make the bandits an easier target. Merchant guilds have united against bandits several times before. The Silver crew would be easier to handle if they were out in the open occupying the pass."
Gerald nodded. At least it was good news for him.
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Harrid eyed the disheveled old man who sat on the ground, leaning against the wall. He and Yanna had come to this smelly alley specially for this old man. "Are you sure he wouldn't just take the coin?" Harrid asked.
The old man coughed and shook his head. "I've done good by Gord. He wouldn't forget the goodwill between us. He isn't your common filth of the streets."
Yanna knelt down and produced five gold coins. "Here," she gave them to the old man. "Once he answers our questions, you can take one and give him the rest. If he doesn't tell us everything we want to know, then I will take back the gold."
The old man's eyes almost popped out as he watched the coins fall into his palm. Harrid wouldn't be surprised if the old man said that he'd never touched a gold coin before. After all, he hadn't either, at least not until he'd become the Viscount's attendant. "He will talk," The old man nodded vigorously. "You can count on me to make him talk."
Harrid grimaced in doubt. If the old man was wrong, then they could be murdered for these coins today. Yanna, on the other hand, just nodded. They waited until noon before a young man appeared at the end of the alley.
He walked towards the old man with a dubious expression, then he ran his eyes over Harrid and Yanna. "What is this about, old Neir? You sent someone saying that there was good coin to be made. I doubt I can make more coin than what I'm already being paid."
Harrid wasn't surprised. The young man did look well-off. His clothes were new unlike the ragged look of most people in Ard. He looked well-fed and content on the surface, which was even rarer.
"There is gold to be made, Gord, believe me," the old man said. "You just have to tell us about your work."
Gord was taken aback. "My work?" he said. "Why the hell are you asking about my work? You know who I serve, right?"
"Yes," the old man nodded. "We don't want to offend Madame Grina of course. We just want to know some simple things, like why she has recruited you and what she makes you do."
Before Gord could retort, Yanna stepped forward. "Has the Madame asked you to do anything yet?" she asked.
"And who are you to ask?" Gord said, his bewilderment increasing as he looked at the two children.
Yanna eyed the old man who responded with a quick nod then pulled out four gold coins and showed them on his open palm.
Gord looked at the gold coins as his eyes widened in surprise. "This . . ."
"Just answer her questions," the old man urged, raising his palm as if proving that the gold on them wasn't an illusion.
Gord eyed the gold with longing, but there was still reluctance on his face. It took a few moments for him to relax and slump his shoulders, surrendering to his anticipated wealth. "She has only armed us. She gave us swords and armor, but we haven't done anything yet."
"She's having you trained? Will you be her soldiers?" Yanna asked.
"No," Gord shook his head in exasperation. "I don't even know how to hold my sword properly. She just armed us. She told us to look as intimidating as we can when we wear our armor."
"Intimidating?" Harrid tilted his. "Who are you going to intimidate?"
Gord turned his face to Harrid and shrugged. "I don't know. We are supposed to go meet someone tonight."
"Who?" Yanna perked up.
"I told you that I don't know. All we've been told is that we must prepare tonight. I heard from some of the Madame's more trusted men that we'd be going out of the castle. The meeting would be east of Ard, but I'm not even sure of that."
"Is that all you know?" Yanna asked.
Gord ignored her and looked at the old man. "That's all I know, old Neir. I swear." Then he grabbed the gold coins from the old man's palm. He raised them closer to his eyes and pinched them, fearing that they weren't real gold but soon smiled in satisfaction. He then turned around and strode away from them. "You better not get me killed, old Neir. Otherwise, my soul would curse you for all eternity."
The old man let out a breath. "That's enough, right?" he asked Yanna.
She nodded and turned to Harrid, dragging him away from the alley. "We have to leave the castle."
"What?" Harrid gaped.
"We have to go now. The gates are closed at night," Yanna explained. "They won't let us out after nightfall."
"That isn't why I am asking, Yanna," Harrid growled. "Do you want to get us killed?"
"They won't see us," she argued.
Harrid rested his hand on the short sword on his hip. "They might see us, and if they do, I won't be able to stop them. I just brought this to scare the thieves away." He'd brought the short sword the Viscount had given him for training. He'd thought it would keep trouble away, but all he got were greedy glances aimed at the sword itself.
"We have to know who they are meeting," Yanna pleaded. "Otherwise, we will be useless to the Viscount."
Harrid was taken aback. "We aren't useless."
"Yes, we are," she said desperately. "I don't know why the Viscount took us in, but everyone else thinks that we are a burden. The head maid said that we were vermin. The men who visit the Viscount everyday always glare at us. They think that we don't belong in the keep."
Harrid frowned. Were they useless? Perhaps. So far, he had done nothing to help the Viscount. He wasn't even a good attendant. He didn't know how to read, so he could hardly help with anything aside from announcing visitors.
"We have to stay in the keep," Yanna continued. "I don't want to go back to the streets. You can become a squire. The Viscount could knight you when you grow up. You would be a knight, Harrid."
"Alright," Harrid nodded after some thought. "Let's head to the eastern gate."