51

Nothing but Maybes

‘Shoulders back, arms up, boy.’

‘Graah!’ Caspar rushed in, hoping to overpower her in one go. His strategy hadn’t changed much over this journey. His best bet was to hit the enemy as soon and as quick as possible.

She was so much taller than him, yet still so nimble. She weaved past his axe almost as water would around an oar.

How the hell does someone with a body like that move in such a way?

He then realised where he was looking. Then he realised he couldn’t stop.

Damn hormones.

‘Don’t hold back!’ The hilt of her blade came across and struck his cheek. ‘I’m judging how well you fight. I can’t do that if you hold back!’

He reeled back, still gripping the axe handle tight. A few stumbles and a sore cheek, but he was still standing.

It didn’t even look like she was trying, just a hand on her hip and a strut towards him. She didn’t look phased or tired. There wasn’t even a hair out of place. He was strong, everyone told him so, so why the hell can he even get a single hit on her?

He swung down, driving the axe head into the earth. Toulmonde stepped aside with an effortless dodge.

She went in to kick him in the stomach. Caspar pushed back against the axe, missing Toulmonde’s leg and his fist went in towards her face.

There was a moment of shock from her eyes. Her hand caught his fist, stopping it before it hit her. Then her eyes sharpened with the gleeful edge that comes with the satisfying end of a good battle. A good battle where progress has been made.

‘Not bad. I think you’re better without the axe.’

His breath came hard and heavy. They’d been sparring for hours now, and he felt no closer to being able to hit her. For all the strength he had, it meant nothing if you can’t even hit your opponent.

She was probably right, but he wouldn’t lose it.

‘Sorry. I can’t.’ They sat, taking a short rest at the side of the ring.

‘It’s just an axe. A pretty nice one, but still just an axe. You could sell it for quite a bit.’

‘No.’ He shook his head as he spoke. ‘It was my fathers. The last weapon he made before he left for the war.’

‘Oh... right.’ She handed him a waterskin. ‘A blacksmith, was he?’

‘Yeah. A good one too, from what I’ve heard.’ He took a swig.

‘You heard from him?’

‘No. Everyone tells me he died, but I don’t know. There were no official letters or anything.’

‘What about your mother?’

‘Died when I was young.’

‘...I’m sorry.’

‘Thanks. I never really knew her. Just what my grandparents told me.’ He held the axe, fussing with the handle. Then he scratched the back of his neck, eyes looking down at the floor. ‘Have... Have I made a mistake? With all this? Everything’s just so complicated, and no matter what I do, I always feel like I’m fumbling from one wrong decision to the next.’

‘That’s what being young is all about. You make the mistakes now, so you learn from them, and it helps you later. Even then, you still gonna make them, gods know we all have. Some more than others.’ She put her hand on his shoulder, and he turned his head to look at her. ‘People make mistakes all the time, and that’s okay. There’s no use wallowing in them, because you can’t change them. The best you can do is try not to do them again. Just do your best, and everything will work out okay.’

‘Right... Yeah. Thanks.’

‘Also...’ She took his chin by her finger and lifted his head to meet her at eye level. ‘You can stop staring at them now.’

Only then Caspar realised where his eyes were and blushed so hard a hot wave flashed up from the bottom of his neck to the tips of his ears. ‘I-I’m sorry!’

She laughed and gave him a good slap on the back. ‘If I was bothered by everyone who stared at them, I’d have got rid of them a while ago. Besides, you’re a good, honest kid, and you apologised. Looking costs nothing. Just don’t

go touching. The amount of people who think they can get a brush or a pinch in. That’s when the knives come out.’ Toulmonde jumped to her feel and pulled Caspar up by the arm. ‘Alright, break over. Stand up... Where’re you looking?’

‘You said it costs nothing.’

She let out a sigh, rolled her eyes, and pushed his face in a different direction.

One nice, long, hot bath later, Toulmonde walked into her quarters, fur still wet with a towel over her shoulders. She found Ludgar sitting in the corner, nursing a bottle of Mismiyer spirits, wincing with each sip.

‘Still tastes like shit. I don’t get it. Does Savanti just taint everything that goes through it?’

‘Probably. You know everything here is fake, after all.’

‘You can’t get drunk from fake spirits.’

‘Then why are you still drinking them?’

‘Because I’ll be damned if that’s going to stop me.’ He took another swig, and a short, sharp flash of anguish crossed his face. He wiped his mouth and said, ‘how’s the boy? Is he feeling better?’

‘Yeah, lots.’ She threw her towel down onto the table and sat next to him, taking the bottle and having a swig herself. Tasted the same as ever. ‘Just needed to blow off some steam. A good fight’ll do that. Has a lot of strength but doesn’t know how to use it. How’d you find him?’

‘Put up a notice in a tavern. Didn’t think it would work, but, well, there he was. Just showed up one day, axe in hand. Had to hire him. Had his own weapon and everything. Didn’t have to spend anything kitting him out. He’s a good kid. Just tends to get caught up in things easily. Sees the best in everyone. Silly stuff like that.’

‘I can tell he hasn’t been a merc long. How old is he?’

‘Tells me he’s seen sixteen winters, but I don’t believe him. I think he’s younger. I told him I only hire people of fighting age. Still, he was strong enough that I guess it didn’t matter much. I’ve seen younger than him fight.’

‘Best to get ‘em young. People don’t like it, but there really is a difference.’

‘Hell, how many winters did we see before we killed our first?’ Ludgar dug through his memories, trying to find a memory when he hadn’t been fighting. If there were any, they’d been lost a long time ago.

‘Not enough. But he’s stronger than most his age. You teach him how to use that axe properly, and he’ll pretty much be unstoppable.’

‘Still need to grind out that soft edge he has. People don’t last that long in a world like this, don’t they?’

‘That’s up to you. There’s so little kindness in this world, you really want to snuff out the little that remains?’

‘It’ll crush him. One day, someone’s going to take advantage of it, and it’ll break him in a way that I or Ves’sa or Kathiya won’t be there to help him. If I rip it out now, it’ll save him in the future.’

‘Yeah. Maybe.’

‘... “Maybe?”’

‘Maybe it’s not as much of a flaw as you think it is. Gods know we all could do with a little more kindness like that, in this world.’

‘You can talk about what there could be till the sun dies out, I only care about what there is, and that’s a naïve kid with too much heart and too little smarts ready to be picked apart by a world that just doesn’t care for that. Fuck that. Better cut that shit out before something breaks him in a way he can’t be put back together again.’

Toulmonde just stared at Ludgar. Stared at him like a stranger had just taken his place. ‘... You care about him quite a bit, don’t you?’

‘Hmm? Me? Nah.’

‘Never seen you put so much consideration in someone else before.’

‘No, I just...’ Ludgar saw the way she looked at him, then immediately changed position to lean back in his chair, so it was just balancing on the back legs, and put his hands behind his head looking off to the roof forcing an irreverent look on his face. ‘I just don’t need someone crying over every soldier they kill. Gets in the way, you know. Makes us look weak. Mercs don’t need that shit. I’m helping him, really. Doing him a service. He should be paying me.’

‘Hmm... Yeah.’ She paused, finger tapping at the table, wondering if she should say what she had on her mind. Did he need to hear it? Would it help? Only one way to find out. ‘Maybe you’ve got it wrong. Maybe you’re not here to help him. Maybe he’s here to help you.’

‘I saw him eat a pine cone the other day. What the fuck is he going to help me with?’

‘Maybe it’s something you don’t yet realise.’

‘It’s all fucking “maybes” with you. Maybe you should come up with some real fucking advice and not vague shit that could or couldn’t happen.’

‘I can’t give you all the answers. You know about as much of this as I do. He looks up to you, in a way. Don’t know why. You’re the one that’s best suited for doing some good with him.’

‘Rather ironic, coming from you.’

‘What the fuck do you mean by that?’

Ludgar paused, idly tapping the empty bottle against the wooden table, as though he was searching for the right words. No. That wasn’t it. There was hesitation there. He had the words, but was trying to figure out if he should say them. ‘It’s an interesting existence, isn’t it? Our lives are inherently evil. We exist to wage war, which creates turmoil, which creates suffering. If we don’t, we don’t eat, essentially. Our livelihoods depend on the suffering of the people around us. Funny that. In a perfect world, we wouldn’t exist.’

‘Exploiting misery is nothing new. If we didn’t, then there’s still a thousand more out there causing as much trouble. So what? You’ve grown a conscience all of a sudden?’

‘No, nothing like that. Just been doing some thinking. That’s all.’

‘Never thought you were one for reflection. Maybe the kid really has changed you. I think I’m starting to see a little of Kyngstone in you.’

‘I don’t know about that. Kyngstone was a hell of a leader, and he knew how to keep us loyal and happy. That doesn’t mean he was a good person. I remember a time long before you joined when he orchestrated a coup in Redvale, when he convinced the regent that his own council was conspiring to remove him. This resulted in a civil war which lasted for months. Thousands died in that time. Fathers, mothers, children on both sides, like with any war. Then so many livelihoods had been broken, we can’t even comprehend how many died afterwards. Kyngstone was well paid for his successes there. We all were. Of course he was. He knew the right places to hit from the very beginning. Shitty, yeah, but we got paid, and that’s all there was to it. If we can’t find a war to fight, we make our own.’ Something flashed in Ludgar’s steel-grey eyes as they met Toulmonde’s. ‘Does that sound familiar to you? You always were his favourite, after all. I got his name, Sergrave got his honour, Belfry got his tongue. You got his brains.’

‘I’ve got no idea what you’re talking about, Ludgar.’

‘Kathiya’s good at finding things. It’s usually things everyone wants, but I’ve found she also has a knack for finding things people want to hide. She’s found a lot of stuff like that lately. Of course, coin, gold and jewels aren’t the only things of value. They can be a little more esoteric. Knowledge, information, letters.’

Toulmonde maintained a stony silence. There was a lot in that to process.

After an elongated moment of keeping up his hardened stare, he closed his eyes, chuckled, shook his head, and raised his arms in a shrug.

‘I guess it all doesn’t really matter in the end. I dunno what’s gotten into me. Maybe all this actual sleep I’ve been having is fucking with my brain.’ With that, he swung to his feet and walked his way towards the door. ‘I need to go hit something. Where’s the boy? He’s always up for a fight.’

‘He ate a big meal and went to sleep,’ she said, after releasing a heavy, silent exhale she had been holding for far too long.

‘That sounds about right. Well, hopefully there’ll be another demonstration, and I can go ahead and knock the teeth out of some eager revolutionary.’