The Company of the Rose had set up their camps on a small hill in one of the regions of the Disputed Lands that was occupied by Myr. Long lines of trenches and latrines had been dug in an orderly manner and even a wooden fence had been built to mark the perimeter, turning the campsite into a semi-permanent one, where they had been stationed for a considerable amount of time.
The dilapidated tents and battered armour of the wandering sellswords were a clear indication that the company was not doing well financially.
In the centre of the encampment stood the commander's tent, which was just as worn out as the rest of the tents, with only its slightly bigger size setting it apart.
Three vigilant sellswords stood guard a few meters away from the commander's tent making sure that no one was eavesdropping.
The atmosphere inside the tent was a little tense even though there were only two men inside the massive tent at the moment, the commander and the second in command.
The Commander, Gared Hornwood, was a giant man, standing about six and a half feet tall, with muscles of steel rippling all over his body. He had dark hair and grey eyes and with his bushy beard, he wouldn't look out of place on a table full of Umbers.
The other man, the second in command, Rickard, was a much smaller and thinner man and didn't have much muscles on him, and didn't look to be much of a fighter. He had narrow eyes and long hair and had the typical Braavosi looks.
Both of these men had grim looks on their faces and were staring at the thin strip of parchment on the table in front of them.
"Is this true?" Gared growled while gripping the table so hard that it almost splintered, "Is this letter real?"
"It would take some to verify it but... I think it is real." Rickard nodded grimly, "I don't think they would lie about something like this moreover... nobody has seen Bran in more than four days, so most probably—"
"How did they even get this letter to us? Was there a messenger..." Gared asked with a glint in his eyes, as he wondered if it was possible to torture the messenger to get confirmation out of him.
"No! No messenger, our usual merchant delivered this letter with the supplies," Rickard replied with a frown on his face, "He said that one of the merchants who supply The Gallant Men paid him to deliver the letter..."
The Gallant men were one of the dozens of Sellswords company who were currently active in the Disputed Lands. They were currently in a contract with Tyrosh at the moment and since the Company of the Rose was defending the territory of Myr, both of them were at odds with each other.
Gared closed his eyes to think for a few moments before he replied with a frown on his face, "It is just too fast... It doesn't make sense that in a matter of days, they not only caught my son, but they also had the time to send us this ransom letter demanding five thousand gold... The only way for this to be possible is if we had spies in our midst sending them information," he turned to Rickard with an accusing glare, "I did tell you to take care of them after the last time we were ambushed did I not?"
"You know that I've worked very hard to sniff out as many of them as I can," Rickard replied in a surly tone, with his eye twitching. Their company wasn't as big or as rich as the Golden Company so they didn't have an individual post for all the tasks. Most of the important tasks were handled by these two on their own. Tasks such as training their men and commanding them during battles came under Gared's purview while handling their contracts, gathering information and spy work came under Rickard as the second in command, "And even if I missed some there's nothing we can do about it now. The most important thing at the moment is to focus on what we are going to do about this ransom letter?"
"What can we even do about it?" Gared asked with gritted teeth and a vulnerable look in his eyes, "They are too strong and too far away for us to attack them effectively and... even if I sell all my belongings, I wouldn't be able to get this amount in a short time..." he shook his head with a frustrated look. While not completely dirt-poor, their company was quite close to it. They lived from contract to contract and barely broke even each time, with most of their gold immediately going towards supplies, salaries and the maintenance of their weapons, "...and the other option is not even an option."
The ransom letter had given Gared two choices if he wanted to get his son back in one piece, either cough up the absurd sum of five thousand gold or betray their current contract with Myr and give up the land that they were defending to the Gallant Men without putting a fight.
Choosing the second option would mean betraying their contract and going back on their word and it would be the same as killing the Company of the Rose with his own hands and Gared would die before doing that.
"So you mean to give up on your only son? Can you even do that?" Rickard asked while narrowing his eyes.
"What other choice do I have..." Gared sighed helplessly as he fell back onto his chair with a thud, "I can't ask my men to fight a losing battle just for the sake of my son..."
"You know that there's a very simple and easy solution for your problem..." Rickard said with a gleam in his eyes.
"What are you—Ugh! Not again!!" Gared groaned as he looked away from Rickard while massaging his forehead.
"No, listen to me," Rickard beseeched in a hurried tone, "You just need to nod your head and I will take care of everything. I already know a merchant who has contacts who are willing to pay as much gold as we want in advance, we just need to promise to regularly send them all the prisoners we take in our battles." he started to get an excited smile on his face, "This would not only solve the problem of your son but also solve all our money problem and maybe even help my sick daughter get a healer, and we can also get all kinds of good weapons for—"
"Enough!!" Gared interrupted without looking up with his head in his hands, "I've told you again and again, that I will not resort to slavery no matter the circumstances..."
"Argh! Why do you have to be so stubborn, Gared? These people we are going to sell are not innocent... They are cunts who would have been happy to kill us in battle, so why do you care so much about them," he asked with a frustrated look on his face, "Every single sellsword company already does this practice openly or sneakily, we are the only ones foolishly suffering from poverty because of your stubbornness..." he said in an annoyed tone before sighing while shaking his head, "I knew you were heartless when you denied me the chance to help get my dying daughter a healer from the city but... I didn't think that you wouldn't even care for your own son—"
"Rickard!! You go too far," Gared roared as he abruptly stood up, sending the chair flying with such force that it made the second in command flinch and almost shit his pants.
Rickard almost wanted to bolt for a second after seeing the fierce look on Gared's face but ultimately held his ground with false bravado as he knew that his commander was unlikely to resort to violence with his brother-in-law, "Don't forget that your daughter is also my niece, the only piece of my dead sister left in this world. You think I would have hesitated if there was a way I could help her. She's as much of a family to me as my son Bran is, I would've done anything for them—"
"But—"
"Anything but Slavery," He said firmly while looking straight into his eyes, "The blood of the North still runs in my veins, and I will not sully my ancestor's name by resorting to slavery no matter the circumstances."
There was silence for a few moments before Rickard gulped and tried once again, "You keep forgetting Gared, that we are not in the North.... this is Essos, not Westeros, slavery runs in people's blood here. Here you are either a slaver or a slave... you need to realise that if you don't want the company dying..."
"You dare—" Gared shouted as his eyes bulged with rage, but before he could rip into his second in command, a guard abruptly barged into the tent without announcing himself, scattering the intense atmosphere.
"What are you doing? Didn't I tell you to—" Gared turned to the guard with a glare but was surprisingly interrupted by his subordinate.
"C-Commander!!! It's your, son!! B-Bran! he's back..." the guard hurriedly said, wildly waving his hands towards the exit with a shocked look in his eyes.
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