Aran sat in the dimly lit inn room, his eyes narrowed as he stared into the flickering candle flame. The meeting with Lord Roderic had gone as expected. The man was ambitious, self-serving, and willing to consider switching sides if the reward was sweet enough. But Aran knew better than to fully trust anyone in the game of power. Roderic would need constant reminders of where his true interests lay.
A soft knock came at the door, breaking the silence. Ravenna slipped inside, her face shadowed in the dim light. She closed the door quietly behind her, nodding to Aran.
"The western lords are restless," she reported in a hushed voice. "Our spies confirm that Lord Tavros has begun distributing weapons to mercenary groups throughout the region. He's preparing for a large-scale conflict."
Aran leaned back in his chair, fingers steepled beneath his chin. "And the mercenaries themselves?"
"Loyal only to the coin," Ravenna said, her voice clipped. "But Tavros's gold flows freely. They won't hesitate to follow him into battle if they think it'll fill their coffers."
Aran's lips curled into a cold smile. "Money can buy loyalty, but it doesn't buy trust. Tavros is making the same mistake so many before him have—he assumes that because he controls the gold, he controls the men. But mercenaries are fickle creatures."
Ravenna raised an eyebrow. "You have a plan?"
"I always have a plan," Aran said, rising from his seat. He crossed the room to a large wooden chest, unlocked it, and pulled out a small, sealed envelope. "Find the leader of the mercenaries—Rael, I believe his name is. Deliver this message to him personally."
Ravenna took the envelope, her eyes glinting with curiosity. "And what exactly is in the letter?"
"An offer," Aran said with a smirk. "One that will turn the tide in our favor."
Ravenna nodded and slipped the letter into her cloak. "I'll leave immediately."
"Good," Aran replied. "And while you're at it, keep an eye on Serena. Her movements have been… concerning."
Ravenna's expression darkened at the mention of Serena. "You believe she's working with Tavros?"
"I believe Serena is working for Serena," Aran said, his voice cold. "And that makes her unpredictable. If she is planning to betray us, I need proof before I act. Keep her close, but don't let her suspect anything."
Ravenna gave a slight nod, understanding the delicate nature of the task. She turned to leave, but paused at the door, glancing back at Aran. "You're playing a dangerous game, Aran. Tavros, Serena, the mercenaries… any one of them could turn on you at any moment."
Aran's smile widened, his eyes gleaming with confidence. "That's the beauty of it, Ravenna. They're all playing their parts, but none of them realize I'm the one pulling the strings."
---
The night was cold as Ravenna made her way through the winding streets of Calder's Rest, her cloak pulled tightly around her to shield against the chill. She moved quickly and silently, her sharp eyes scanning the shadows for any sign of danger. It didn't take long to reach the mercenary encampment on the outskirts of the town. A sprawling collection of tents and makeshift shelters lay ahead, illuminated by the soft glow of campfires.
Ravenna approached cautiously, her hand resting on the hilt of the dagger hidden beneath her cloak. The mercenaries here were notorious for their ruthlessness, and even a slight misstep could lead to trouble. She spotted a group of them gathered near a large firepit, laughing and drinking as they celebrated the spoils of their latest venture.
She moved past them, her focus set on a large tent at the far end of the camp. It was guarded by two burly men, both heavily armed and clearly on edge. Ravenna stepped forward confidently, her voice low but firm.
"I have a message for Rael," she said, showing the Blackthorn sigil stamped on the envelope.
The guards exchanged a glance before one of them gestured for her to follow. They led her into the tent, where a man sat at a large wooden table, pouring over a map of the region. His dark eyes flicked up as Ravenna entered, and a crooked smile played across his lips.
"Ah, a Blackthorn messenger," Rael said, his voice dripping with mock politeness. "What do I owe the pleasure?"
Ravenna didn't waste time with pleasantries. She handed the sealed envelope to Rael, who took it with a raised eyebrow.
"This is from Lord Aran Blackthorn," she said simply. "Read it."
Rael's eyes narrowed as he broke the seal and unfolded the letter. His expression shifted as he read, the mocking smile replaced by something darker, more calculating. When he finally finished, he looked up at Ravenna, his gaze sharp.
"Your lord certainly knows how to make an offer," Rael said, folding the letter and tucking it into his vest. "But what makes him think I'd betray Tavros? He's paying us handsomely."
Ravenna's lips curled into a faint smile. "Because Lord Blackthorn knows that Tavros's coffers are not as full as they once were. The moment Tavros starts losing ground, he'll abandon the mercenaries, leaving you with nothing. Aran is offering you more than gold. He's offering you power—a place at his side once the west is secured."
Rael leaned back in his chair, studying her for a long moment. "And what if I say no? What if I remain loyal to Tavros?"
"Then you'll be on the losing side of history," Ravenna said coldly. "And we both know how mercenaries fare when their employer falls."
The silence that followed was thick with tension, but Rael finally nodded, a glint of greed in his eyes. "I'll consider Blackthorn's offer. But I expect more than just promises if I'm to switch sides."
Ravenna inclined her head slightly. "You'll have what you want. Just be ready when the time comes."
---
Back in Calder's Rest, Aran received the news of Ravenna's successful delivery with satisfaction. The seeds of betrayal had been planted, and soon the western front would begin to crumble under Tavros's feet.
But even as one victory was within reach, Aran's mind was already turning to the next threat. Serena was becoming a problem that needed to be handled delicately, and Elias's growing ambition was no less dangerous.
The game of power never stopped, and Aran knew that in order to win, he had to stay one step ahead of everyone—friends and enemies alike.