Alaric had continued his investigation with the tenacity of a bloodhound. Within a fortnight, he had amassed a considerable amount of information about the rebellion and the external force supporting it. However, true to his nature, Alaric had no intention of sharing his findings without extracting a price from his siblings.
Two weeks after the first meeting, the second one was called to discuss the gathered intelligence. This time, Alaric made sure to arrive early, securing himself a proper chair. As the nobles filtered into the grand meeting hall, they couldn't help but notice the towering stack of documents in front of Alaric, dwarfing the modest piles held by his siblings and the other nobles.
Count Vargas entered last, his presence commanding immediate silence. He glanced around the room, his gaze lingering on Alaric's sizable stack of papers before he cleared his throat to begin the meeting.
"We are here to discuss our findings and chart a course of action against this brewing rebellion," Count Vargas announced. "Let's start with the reports. Damian, you go first."
Damian stood, holding his thin file with an air of confidence. "Father, we've confirmed that there are indeed external forces supplying arms and gold to the rebels. Our spies have identified several key figures among the insurgents. They are gathering in the northern villages, particularly around Blackwood and Greyrock."
Eliza went next, presenting her findings in a clipped, efficient manner. "I've discovered that the rebels are using old smuggling routes to bring in supplies. These routes were thought to be abandoned, but it appears they've been revitalized for this purpose. Our efforts to blockade these routes have so far been unsuccessful due to their knowledge of the terrain."
As each noble presented their findings, Alaric sat back in his chair, a faint smile playing on his lips. When it was finally his turn, all eyes turned expectantly toward him.
Alaric rose slowly, taking his time to survey the room. "It seems my siblings and the other nobles have done quite a bit of work," he began, his tone dripping with mock admiration. "However, it appears that their findings, while not without merit, lack... depth."
Damian's face reddened. "If you have something better, Alaric, then spit it out."
Alaric chuckled. "Patience, brother. You see, I've spent these past two weeks not just gathering scraps of information, but compiling a comprehensive dossier on the rebellion and its backers." He tapped his thick pile of documents for emphasis. "But such valuable information doesn't come cheap."
Count Vargas's eyes narrowed. "What are you playing at, Alaric?"
Alaric's smile widened. "Simple. I want compensation. If my dear siblings are willing to pay for this information, I'll gladly share it. Otherwise, I might just sit back and watch how things unfold."
Eliza glared at him. "You're despicable."
Alaric shrugged. "Perhaps. But I'm also well-informed. The choice is yours."
Count Vargas looked at his other children, who both nodded reluctantly. "Fine," the Count said through gritted teeth. "Name your price."
Alaric leaned back, looking thoughtful. "Five thousand gold pieces. Each."
The nobles gasped, and Damian looked like he was about to explode. "That's robbery!"
"Not really," Alaric replied smoothly. "Considering the stakes, I'd say it's a bargain."
After a tense silence, Count Vargas nodded. "Very well. You will be compensated."
Alaric smiled, satisfied. He began to distribute copies of his reports to the nobles. "Now, let's get down to business. The external force backing the rebels is a foreign power known as the Iron Dominion. They've been funneling resources through covert operatives embedded in our own ranks. The rebels are not just a ragtag group of malcontents; they're being trained by experienced soldiers, which explains their recent successes."
He continued, detailing the locations of hidden camps, names of key operatives, and strategies the rebels were using. The room was silent as Alaric spoke, the weight of his information sinking in.
When he finished, Count Vargas looked grim. "This is invaluable, Alaric. But we must act quickly and decisively to counter these threats."
Alaric nodded. "Indeed. But remember, Father, knowledge is only half the battle. We need to outmaneuver them, hit them where they least expect it."
The meeting ended with plans being laid out based on Alaric's intelligence. As the nobles filed out, Alaric's siblings approached him.
Damian's expression was a mix of anger and grudging respect. "You did well, Alaric. But don't think this changes anything between us."
Eliza nodded. "We still don't trust you."
Alaric laughed softly. "That's fine. Trust is overrated, anyway. As long as we win, that's all that matters."
As they turned to leave, Alaric felt a rare sense of satisfaction. He had proven his worth and secured his position. But more importantly, he had positioned himself as an indispensable asset in the fight to come.
The next few days were a whirlwind of activity as the nobles of Vargas County began implementing the strategies based on Alaric's intelligence. Patrols increased along the smuggling routes, hidden rebel camps were targeted in swift, decisive strikes, and covert operatives within the kingdom were systematically rooted out.
Alaric, for his part, continued to play the role of the aloof observer, always watching from the shadows but never directly engaging. He still hadn't received his payment from his siblings, so he saw no reason to fully involve himself in the ongoing operations.
One afternoon, as he lounged in the manor's library, Geralt approached him with an air of urgency.
"Master Alaric, the Count wishes to speak with you," Geralt said, his voice tense.
Alaric sighed, closing the book he had been reading. "And what does dear Father want now?"
"There's been an unexpected development," Geralt replied, leading him to the Count's private study.
Inside, Count Vargas stood behind his desk, his expression grim. Damian and Eliza were also present, both looking equally serious.
"Alaric," the Count began, his tone unusually respectful, "your intelligence has proven invaluable. The rebellion is weakening, but we've encountered a new problem. The rebels have captured one of our key operatives."
Alaric raised an eyebrow. "And what do you expect me to do about it?"
"We need your unique skills," Damian interjected, his voice tight with frustration. "You've shown a knack for getting information others can't. We need you to find out where they're holding our man and rescue him."
Alaric leaned back, a sly smile spreading across his face. "Interesting. And what about my payment?"
Eliza scowled. "Is money all you care about?"
Alaric shrugged. "In a family where I'm considered less than dirt, money is the only thing that speaks."
Count Vargas sighed heavily. "Fine. You will be paid handsomely once the operative is safely returned. But you must act quickly. His information is vital."
Alaric nodded slowly, considering the proposal. "Very well. I'll need complete access to all reports and resources."
"Granted," the Count replied. "Just bring him back."
---
That night, Alaric slipped out of the manor, blending into the shadows as he made his way to the last known location of the missing operative. He navigated the winding streets of the town with ease, his mind focused on the task at hand.
He spent hours questioning informants and following leads until he finally discovered the operative's location – an abandoned warehouse on the outskirts of town. It was heavily guarded, but Alaric wasn't deterred.
Using his knowledge of the area, he devised a plan to infiltrate the warehouse. Under the cover of darkness, he approached the building, slipping past the guards with the stealth of a seasoned thief.
Inside, he found the operative bound and gagged in a small, dimly lit room. Alaric quickly dispatched the lone guard and freed the captive.
"Who sent you?" the operative, a man named Marcus, asked hoarsely.
"Count Vargas," Alaric replied. "Let's get you out of here."
They made their way back to the manor under the cover of night. When they finally arrived, Alaric delivered Marcus to his father's study, where Damian and Eliza were waiting.
"Here he is, safe and sound," Alaric announced, pushing Marcus into the room.
Count Vargas looked relieved. "Well done, Alaric. You've proven your worth."
Alaric smiled, holding out his hand. "My payment?"
Damian reluctantly handed over a pouch of gold coins. "Here. You've earned it."
Alaric weighed the pouch in his hand, satisfied. "Pleasure doing business with you."
As he left the room, he couldn't help but feel a sense of triumph. For the first time, he had shown his family that he was more than just a useless noble. He was a force to be reckoned with, and he intended to continue proving that – on his own terms.