Chapter 11

Gerald sat in his study, mulling over the condition of the treasury. He'd spent over a thousand gold coins from the original eight thousand already. He hoped that his plans in the east would make up for the losses, though. Bandits were supposed to be rich, right? It wasn't likely that they bought anything with their gold. They stole their food, clothing, and even most of their arms. So what did they do with their gold? Gerald found himself enjoying the idea of finding out through closer observation.

He looked beside him at Harrid who stood ramrod straight. He'd picked the boy up along with Yanna, the little clever girl, from the streets. They were both homeless but Gerald brought them both to the keep. Yanna was now the youngest maid there, and Harrid was his attendant. Gerald hadn't really been looking for an attendant like he'd told them, but he found it the most convenient position to busy the boy with.

He sighed and glanced at Harrid whose legs were probably sore from his tense posture all day. The boy really didn't understand the difference between being an attendant and being a shadow. Gerald had informed him twice in the past few days that he didn't have to stick to him everywhere, especially in his study. An attendant was supposed to stay right outside the door, but the boy was too nervous and Gerald didn't want to add more to his difficulties. So he didn't mention it again.

"Harrid," Gerald said. "Go and summon Sir Robard for me."

"Yes, my lord," the boy said, sweat trickling down his forehead. Then he hurried out of the study.

It had been a fortnight since Gerald sent Gasper and Uncle Rudolf to the eastern forest with the newly recruited refugees. Today was the day Gasper was supposed to act. His life and the whole plan would depend on how well he plays his role. But Gerald had to play his part too, and it was about time.

Soon Robard arrived in the study, saluting. "Viscount, you've summoned me. How may I serve you?"

"Relax, Robard," Gerald smiled. "I need you to handle a sensitive matter for me."

"Command me, my lord," Robard said.

"Listen," Gerald started. "I want you prepare a rider to visit the Big Mountain crew in the east. I want to reach an agreement with them."

"What kind of agreement?" Robard asked, slightly suspicious.

"We'll pay them good coin for safe passage to the mine in the south east," Gerald explained. "The iron mine there is the lifeline of the army. Although it doesn't produce the highest quality of iron, it's still important for the house. The Big Mountain crew controls the lower half of the east. We should make sure our passage through the east is unimpeded."

"My lord," Robard said, seemingly swallowing his hidden anger. "This will shame the house. Paying brigands for our safe passage? And in the family's lands? This . . . It's unacceptable. We'd be the laughing stock of the whole kingdom."

"Calm down, Robard," Gerald said, his voice sharper and his brows wrinkled into a frown. "Unless you're a fool who'll make this a matter public, nobody will ever know. You'll send the rider at night. He'll negotiate with the bandits and return, then we'll send them the agreed upon sum a few nights later. Secrecy is why I summoned you personally."

Robard fidgeted as he stood, his face contorted into an ugly shape. Apparently, he was still struggling between the shame of disobeying his commands and the shame of negotiating with bandits. The middle-aged knight eventually sighed and visibly yielded. "As you command, my lord. But you should know that the late Viscount, your father, would have never done such a thing."

"I'm not my father," Gerald said. "I intend to learn from his mistakes."

"He wasn't a bad man or a bad lord," Robard refuted, almost with a sharpness to his voice.

"I never said he was," Gerald said, shaking his head. "He's been through a lot, because of me and my sister. I want to change that. I want to fix what our enemies ruined for him, so that he may rest well in his grave. His mistakes, I won't repeat; and his enemies, I won't forgive. You just need to follow my commands, Robard."

Robard nodded reluctantly. "yes, my lord."

"The rider is to arrive there at midnight," Gerald said. "I don't want anyone to see or hear anything about this. Also, demand from the bandits that they keep this matter a secret for the sake of family's honor, otherwise we won't pay them a single copper. This is very important. Do you understand?"

"By your command, my lord," Robard saluted and left hurriedly, obviously unsatisfied. Gerald didn't mind, though, as long as he listened to his commands. The head knight of the house would soon know that not everything had to be handled in a rigid manner. Subterfuge would often be the path to victory.

After Robard left, Harrid walked into the study. Gerald quickly pointed towards the open door for the boy to remember that he should stand outside, not beside him.

Harrid noticed where Gerald was pointing, walked back towards the door then closed it and slowly walked back to stand beside Gerald.

Gerald wanted to slam his face into the table.

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Gasper watched the splintered rays of light falling from between the thick branches of the trees. He had brought his newly recruited crew into the forest and they settled in with the help of Master Rudolf and two rangers.

He eyed the surrounding camp, full of people and activity. Raggedly armored refugees moved around the camp, mostly enjoying their free porridge. The Viscount had allowed him to empty the armory of its oldest and worst equipment. He'd used the salvaged armor and arms to equip the men he recruited.

Today, though, was the day he was supposed to act. Cold sweat was already trickling its way down his back. He was determined to redeem himself, yes, but today's little game would decide his life or death on someone else's whim. He couldn't help but be anxious.

He saw Master Rudolf approaching from the distance. The old man was wearing an expressionless copper mask and his body was covered with a dark grey robe. He was even covering his hair. The old steward had told Gasper that he didn't want anyone to know his identity or even his age.

Now it seemed that the old man had noticed that it was time and was coming to remind Gasper.

Gasper sighed. Can't delay anymore.

"Gasper," Master Rudolf said. "Are you preparing to move?"

Gasper nodded. "Yes. Today's gamble will be a hard one."

"May fortune keep your company," the old man said. "I believe it will work. Bandits aren't a sharp bunch, even if they're a vicious one."

"Yes," Gasper said. But some people have black clouds hovering over them, he thought. People like me.

Soon, Gasper had changed from his new iron armor into the ragged leathers the bandits had given him. He took a deep breath and trotted to the north, towards the Black Dog crew's camp. It was time to return to the dogs' nest. It didn't take him long to find his way out of the forest with the help of a ranger.

The time it took him to reach the bandit camp was enough for the sun to descend half way through the sky. If he hadn't been running most of the distance, it would have taken him a whole day. He soon caught sight of the rough palisade the bandits had built around their camp. The camp was on flat land. They didn't even build it on a hill. Apparently, they weren't worried about getting attacked. They'd learn otherwise soon. Hopefully.

When he was about a hundred steps from the palisades he heard a yell, "halt!"

He stopped and looked at the crooked watchtower near the gate. A bandit with a nocked bow was standing there, eying him cautiously. "Who goes there?" the bandit shouted.

"It's me, Gasper!" Gasper yelled. "I've returned. I was lost in the forest on the day of Red Dog's hunt."

"Piss on my corpse if a man could survive for a fortnight in the forest," the bandit yelled back. "Now who in the fucking hells are you?"

"I swear it is me, Gasper. Just call any of the lads on my squad and they'll tell you."

"Half your god damned squad is dead, lad," the bandit said with uncertainty. "That is if you're the real fucking Gasper."

"I am," Gasper said. "Just let me see the chief. I have important news to report."

The bandit grunted and signaled for a few men to walk out of the gate. They quickly arrived close to Gasper. "By the seven seas, it is you!" one of them yelled. "Where in the hells have you been?" The other bandits relaxed after their companion recognized him. Then they accompanied Gasper back to the camp.

As soon as Gasper entered the camp, one of Black Dog's lieutenants blocked his way. "I don't know where you have been all this time. That whole hunt that Red Dog started was a large bloody mess that pissed the chief off. You'd better have a good reason for staying out there so long. The boss wants to see you, or rip you apart, whichever."

Gasper swallowed. Not the best of starts. He still accompanied the bandit lieutenant to Black Dog's cabin, though. It didn't take them long. The camp wasn't very large. Mostly tents cramped next to each other.

"You'll enter alone," the bandit lieutenant said, pushing the cabin's door open. "Choose your words and you might live, lad."

Gasper nodded gratefully then stepped into the cabin. He quickly spotted Black dog who was sitting with both legs stretched on a table. He didn't spare one glance in Gasper's direction as he was busy cleaning his teeth with a small blade. "Ugh, god damn it," he grumbled as the blade drew blood. "Why won't the fucking meat just go down our throats like everything else," he asked Gasper. "Why does it always get stuck in my miserable teeth, huh?"

Gasper was speechless for a while. The bandit chief was actually waiting for an answer, with a burning glare fixed on him. "Umm, because . . . meat tastes good, and no good comes without a price?" Gasper said uncertainly. He'd heard about Black Dog a lot but only faced him closely twice during his previous stay of a month in the camp. He knew that the ugly bandit chief wasn't actually asking with the expectation of a detailed answer. He was asking to see the best answer he could come up with.

"Well," the bandit chief said, pulling his legs down. "Since you're so good at finding answers," he chuckled. "Tell me, why the fuck did you only come back today? And why the hell did I find Red Dog's corpse mangled in the direction of Ard?" Black Dog asked, his face freezing into an incarnation of murder.

Gasper breathed slowly, hoping that he wouldn't make the slightest mistake in his next words. Black Dog was a Sky Warrior. That was how he managed to keep such a bandit camp in line. If the man wanted to kill him, then Gasper wouldn't be able to escape. Even if he somehow put up a fight against Black Dog, the rest of the camp would soon descend upon him like a rain of shit. "I didn't know that Red Dog died," Gasper said, wearing his most shocked expression. "I-I was attacked along with another member of my squad. The peasants ambushed us in the forest. All I know is that I ran and ran and ran. Finally, I came out of the forest's south."

Black Dog looked thoughtful for a while then went back to his futile attempts at cleaning his teeth. "That still doesn't explain why you've been away for a whole fortnight, does it?"

"No," Gasper said hastily. "Actually, I saw something that I shouldn't have and I had to take the long way back, hoping they wouldn't catch me."

Black Dog raised his head and met Gasper's eye, his gaze sharp and penetrating. "What did you see," he said, sitting up.

"The Big Mountain crew," Gasper said, doing his best to keep a straight face. "I saw a man wearing the Viscount's colors at their camp. They were cautious and they had guards everywhere. I think they didn't want anybody to see that man." Gasper could hear his heart beating as he told the planned lie. This would decide whether the Viscount's plan would work, and whether he would live or die.

Black Dog's gaze sharpened even further and he stood up. "Are you telling the truth, boy?" he said. "If you're trying to save yourself with a little lie like this, I will cut your limps off and throw you to the wolves."

"I swear I'm not," Gasper said with the pale face he'd managed to muster. He had to look scared if he wanted the bandit to believe him. A scared man was more likely to tell the truth. If he looked too calm, he would invite suspicion for sure.

"Then tell me exactly what happened," Black Dog growled.

"I saw a rider clearly wearing the Viscount's colors arriving at their gates and they quickly let him in. Then one of Big Mountain's men caught sight of my movement and yelled. It was dark, though. So they kept looking but they gave up when they found nothing. I had to circle around from the south and follow the mountain range all the way to the north. That's why it took me a fortnight to come back."

Black Dog stood up, pacing up and down the cabin. "And you're sure it was a man from Ard? You saw the colors clearly even at night?" the bandit chief asked after a while.

"Yes," Gasper nodded fervently. "The torches made his colors clear and he wore the armor of the Viscount's soldiers. I don't think he was just a soldier, though. They showed him too much respect for that."

Black Dog cursed and threw the small blade away. "Those bastards must be planning to take over the east, or worse, trying to wipe us out and win favor with that cunt who rules Ard," he growled. "Have you heard? A new Viscount is upon us, boy."

"No," Gasper shook his head. "I didn't know that. What happened to the old Viscount?"

Black Dog chuckled then said, "the old fool died. At least we had peace in his time. This new one is young and makes me restless." The bandit chief rambled on for a while then turned seriously towards Gasper. "Listen, boy. You'll go with Yellow Dog tonight and keep watch over the Big Mountain camp for as long as it takes. If you see someone like that again, you'll come back and let me know. But if it never happens, you'll wish I had killed you today."

Gasper nodded. "I will do that, chief," he said. "I swear on my life that what I said was true."

The lie is finally woven, Gasper thought. I wonder if the Viscount's plan will really work.