We set a course north back into Aconite’s territory. The city of Hymetos was several leagues away, along the road if my map was to be believed. There was another town called Trozen on the way, though, which under ideal conditions we could reach in a day’s travel.
However, ideal conditions didn’t include injuries. Taraxacum had given Sedum a bad burn on his side, and though he didn’t complain, once we’d set out I could see him flagging after an hour or two. The damn satyrs whose heads he’d knocked together complained more of needing to rest, though they had to be some of the least injured of those we’d fought and left alive.
I insisted Gia not give in to their whining, lest the warband think she could be pushed around. But once an appropriate time had passed between complaints, I gave into her pleading looks and let her call the first of several rests. She had to be new to long periods of exertion too, after all. And better to let our wounded recover than leave them behind, even if the satyr men were sorely tempting me.
Whenever we stopped, and I could be sure no one was eavesdropping, I filled in Gia on information she’d been missing. Who the Obsidian clan were, or had been before Phlox’s fall and the escape of those now with us. The ruthless wolf-woman Aconite who’d defeated her rival themosthete and wiped out his forces near-entirely. The truth of that news still felt raw, but I pushed through it for Gia’s sake. Aconite’s Moonrise clan, whose territory we were now nearing, and the danger they could pose if we encountered hunting parties apart from the main force.
I didn’t mention just what part I’d had in what happened. Gia had heard or surmised that I’d left the Obsidian clan before their defeat. She didn’t seem to judge me for that much. So it was all she needed to know.
Our travel being prolonged meant concerns of logistics. Though many of our new recruits had filled up on civilians, food would quickly become an issue especially for those who hadn’t. And traveling on the road meant less risk of encountering Aconite’s forest-dwellers, but it also meant we’d find nothing edible save for occasional hapless travelers. Which, Gia aside, straits weren’t nearly dire enough for me to allow.
So when we stopped for the night, I assigned our demons for our two main needs in the present situation, lookouts and hunters. We were still bordering the woods, which had no shortage of wild creatures to be found with the right skills. I personally wouldn’t object if they brought back fruit or edible plants, but I didn’t get my hopes up. Meat was the main diet of demons, after all.
Boquila and Byzantina could have helped with disguises and sounds, but the jackalope hadn’t been happy I’d used her partner as Taraxacum’s bait, so I let the two of them stay in camp. They spent some time talking to Lagurus, a rabbitfolk with a paler coat and taller stature than Byzantina. His land speed could have let him run down animals, but rabbitfolk weren’t known for strength and lacked racial Aspects beyond agility, so I stuck him as a guard rather than get him mauled by a bear.
The other two beastfolk would make better hunters, however. Salix, a feline demon, was swift, fierce, and quiet enough to pounce on animals or enemies, with only his unusual pale coloration making him easier to spot. Purpurea, a fox-woman, had similar skills and could cover his weaknesses, and they seemed to work well together in bringing back game.
Tortula and Grimmia, the male and female oreads Crassula had clobbered, weren’t too injured to help out, though I made it clear hitting us with earth missiles rather than prey animals wouldn’t be tolerated.
And the skeletal Eupatorium I had hunt not because I thought he’d have particular aptitude for it, but because from what I’d seen before of spartoloi, their bloodlust grew when they lacked chances to kill things.
Uvaia insisted she “wasn’t a good hunter,” but she still managed to bring back a giant beetle the first day and a literal bear the second, needing several others’ help to drag it back. Harpies weren’t as plentiful in mana but they were feared for good reason, and I really had to wonder what criteria she used to rank herself. Sedum, for his part, didn’t stray far from camp with his injury, but managed to find greens for a rather nice salad.
Crassula I knew was an able hunter from how she’d ambushed me. But each time she came back successful, it was with a full bloated belly rather than food to share. That attracted some grumbling from our new recruits, but I let it go as reward for her service so far. Our own headcount hadn’t gone down at all, so whether her meals were animals, demons, or deeply lost mortals, I didn’t need to know.
The satyrs, Vitis and Hordeum, I stuck on guard duty. Neither man was the type to enjoy physically demanding work. And lust inducement, to say the least, would not be best applied to animals one was hunting. But they could provide a useful distraction if anyone did approach with malicious intent. Less so if svelte half-goat men weren’t our attackers’ type, but it had worked for them surprisingly often.
Lycoris, a pretty redheaded arachne, could have helped hunt, but sitting and waiting in her spider half’s spun webs would take too long. I set her spinning them around the edges of our makeshift camp instead, which she seemed perfectly happy with.
Most of us simply slept on the ground. It wasn’t comfortable, but I could survive it, and thankfully there was no rain. Taraxacum had evidently been the one demon who’d scrounged a large, collapsible tent, which I was quick to snatch up for Gia in turn. Leadership had to have its perks. But from the dark circles beneath her eyes in the morning, she didn’t seem to sleep much better than us for it.
There was a fairly sharp division between the Obsidian clan remnants and those of us who’d fought them, in how we walked, gathered, and rested. It wasn’t terribly surprising; camaraderie is a powerful force, and having killed another group’s friends doesn’t foster social lubricant. I’d seen this happen more often than not when one defeated clan was merged into another.
Gia was the common element tying both groups together, and it wasn’t uncommon for Obsidian demons to approach her with questions or requests. While their respect for her might have varied, they looked at her with a common fear, to my relief. Her ‘demon leader’ act still needed work, so I knew Gia couldn’t look like much, but it was well known by now that she’d killed Taraxcum. He’d been the strongest of the group by far, and they feared that she’d do the same to them if they stepped out of line. So, while we’d had some trouble getting there, things were proceeding on the right path.
Crassula, to my surprise and initial concern, was spending the most time with Gia of anyone. I kept a wary eye on her, thinking she might be planning to run off with Gia after all, before I noticed that most of her attention wasn’t on Gia herself. Whenever unfamiliar demons did approach Gia, Crassula wouldn’t take her eyes off them until they’d left, with an air like she was ready to reach for her axe at a moment’s notice. It was almost like she’d appointed herself Gia’s bodyguard. A concept which I had trouble reconciling with her behavior thus far, but which would be valuable if she stuck to it.
Uvaia sought me out the second night after we’d eaten bear. “What’s the story with Hydrangea?” she asked, and I didn’t miss that she’d shed the ‘Lady’ honorific in private. She did make the effort to whisper, anyway.
Well, I had expected someone to ask sooner or later. “What do you want to know?”
“Why is she here? No, why are you with her is a better question,” Uvaia murmured, watching me. “And what is she, at that? I’ve never met another demon who acts like her.”
“When you say ‘with her’,” I started to ask, but seeing Uvaia’s blank look I tabled that thought. Grateful to not get into dangerous questions of what we were, or what Uvaia and I were, with one other. “…She’s a newly Emerged demon. Very new, all of a couple days if I’m right. So she still doesn’t know how things work here, really.”
My normal instinct was to lie in the service of keeping secrets. But I’d thought about it, and for the three in the inn, concluded that explaining her naïveté as anything other than newness would just make things worse. “I’m still not sure what type beyond that.” Fleshwarping was an Art I associated with envy, but Gia hadn’t shown any signs of feeling it for us that I’d seen.
“I guess that does make sense. I’m sure I didn’t know anything when I was first– when I emerged.” Uvaia said the last hurriedly, and I gave her an odd look but dismissed her wording as misspeaking. “You only just met her, though? I thought you might have known each other longer than that.”
“What makes you say that?”
“You two just seem, um. Close.” Now she looked shifty-eyed.
I opened my mouth and paused, deciding to consider my words carefully. “We are friends, I suppose. We might have gotten fairly close in a short time, but I have with you, too.” And I didn’t have the same conflict of interest being close to Uvaia.
That answer seemed to relax Uvaia, and she was quiet for a second. “You didn’t answer why you’re with her, though.”
I hadn’t told Uvaia of my ambitions either. Though, frankly, I hadn’t told just about anyone – even the warlords I’d promised to make rulers had thought it was their own idea, not mine. “I think that we can help each other,” was my technically true dodge of an answer.
She smiled a bit sadly at me. “All right. You don’t need to tell me, Anthy.”
- - -
There were no incidents overnight, and the next morning, our first destination finally came into sight. Spotting the haze of buildings on the horizon, I motioned for Gia to call a halt. She just looked confused at my gesture, so I went over and whispered what I meant instead.
“Everyone, stop!” she called. Not quite an angry warlord voice, but she didn’t hesitate, which was progress. And our ragtag bunch of demons obeyed without grumbling, gathering around.
“That should be the village of Trozen up ahead, right?” I asked, looking at Sedum and Uvaia. It was what my map had indicated, but the locals would know better.
“Aye. Have a few friends who should still be living here,” Sedum was the one to answer. I hid a grimace at that. It would complicate things. “Bigger than Monem, but not by much.”
“It’s on the map enough for Aconite and other themosthetes to bother with, so I’m not surprised,” I said, thinking. “But I’m surprised Taraxacum didn’t attack here instead after what Aconite did. Trozen is sworn to her, aren’t they? At least nominally.” They weren’t likely to have much of great interest to a warlord, but everyone needed supplies.
“He said we were too weak to start with Trozen,” Boquila said. “Better to start somewhere we could raid without resistance.”
“Though we all saw how that worked out,” Byzantina muttered, glaring at me beside her partner.
I gave the pair of them a flat look. “You’re saying a farming village was too intimidating for him.”
“There’s stories about the village chief,” Lycoris the arachne spoke up, her red eyes wide. “Like that she strangles anyone who tries to attack them, and she’s almost impossible to kill…”
“Anyone can be killed,” Eupatorium said in his echoing, dusty voice. One thing I did agree with the skeleton on.
I looked back to the orc. “Have you met this chief of theirs, Sedum?”
“Attenuata? Sure, she’s a bit stern but always seemed a good sort.” He seemed not to realize just why I was asking, from the glare he turned on Eupatorium but spared me.
“Any idea what sort of demon she is?”
He frowned. “I couldn’t say the name, but one of those ladies with necks that can stretch.”
A rokurokubi, then. Their rubbery bodies would be hard to harm with weapons or blunt force, but there would certainly still be ways to kill them. But if all went well, that shouldn’t be necessary. “We’ve still got a day or two to reach the city, and we’ve been cutting things close for feeding ourselves. We’ll have to pick up supplies in Trozen.” Enough supplies to feed a larger group for longer was my goal, really.
There was a general rumbling of agreement, before Eupatorium stepped forward. “Lady Hydrangea, let us take what we need from those Moonrise slaves,” he said. “They’re sworn to our enemies, they deserve whatever bloody toll we inflict on them. And even these others are strong enough to face them now.” His skull was a permanent ghastly grin.
“I said we’re not killing anyone outside self-defense,” Gia said, glaring. “If you’re thinking of attacking them the same way as the other town, then forget about it.”
“Of course. Why even think about how we could gain all we need and grow stronger yet for it?” He let out a low, withery chuckle. And though I did take his point, rebelliousness had to be stamped out.
So I stepped over and murmured in Gia’s ear. “Not strong enough. Don’t let them stand up to you.”
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Gia showed me a startled look, but nodded. “Is that going to be a problem, Eupatorium?” she asked, raising her voice.
“Your weakness, Lady Hydrangea? I should certainly hope not.” He continued grinning.
“More,” I told Gia, gritting my teeth at the defiance. “Give them a reason to listen to you.”
Gia swallowed hard, but drew herself up taller. “And if anyone does kill someone in this village, I’m doing the same thing to you that I did to Taraxacum.” Despite her hesitation, her words rang out loud and clear. And the demons did stand up straighter and look to be listening, now.
It wasn’t quite the show of dominance I’d had in mind, but it should suffice. Physically harming one of ours might still be too much to ask of her. “That being said, Lady Hydrangea,” I spoke up. “We do still need to obtain supplies.”
She blinked at me, taken by surprise. “Can’t we just buy them?”
“With what money?” That was a dodge. Uvaia had money, I’d seen to that myself, and I was willing to bet Sedum had taken his own savings from the ruins of his inn. And I fully expected our new recruits had taken more from the Monem residents than their lives.
But we were going to need as many funds as possible once we reached Hymetos. And the fiscal well-being of a few villagers was not my concern, when considering the big picture. “They’re used to supplying a much larger clan than we’ve formed for ourselves. They can afford to give us some food.” That reminded me how we needed a name for the clan we were forming.
Gia looked at me, visibly uncomfortable. “So you want to just steal from them?” she asked me in a whisper now. Thankfully, showing she flinched at something so minor wouldn’t earn her any respect.
“If we ask in the proper way, I’m sure they’ll be willing to hand over what we need.” I did not lower my voice, looking out at the other demons. Trade and barter were perfectly common in Hesperia, but theft and extortion were the prerogative of those who could get away with it, especially with the Demon King gone. And foraging as a military was more an exercise in power than equitability.
From the smirks on some of the Obsidian remnants’ faces, they did see what I was getting at. Sedum looked like he wanted to call me out, maybe even offer to pay himself, but with a look at the others around he held his tongue. He might well end up confronting me later, but for now he was outnumbered in his opinion.
Uvaia looked at me like she wanted to say something too, but bit her lip and stayed quiet.
“Okay,” Gia said, grimacing as she forced out the words. “I guess we can go… talk to them. If you’re sure we need to do this,” she added in an undertone.
Trozen was surrounded on either side by woods and plains, with large swathes of the latter set aside for farmland. I could see fields of golden grains swaying in the breeze around us as we entered the town, and among the farmhouses and other buildings smaller plots growing tomatoes and vegetables.
As for the residents, I didn’t see many that would put up a fight in a raid. There were some foul-smelling but weak nuppeppos with their pale blob bodies, a few fork-tailed bakenekos that had made the jump to demons from cats, and a smattering of the odd tsukumogami that I could only assume formed from the possessions of the worst sinners. Fairly weak creatures, all in all.
One of the demons stood out to me, however. A large shadowy barghest, at odds with the others around, and yet seemingly real unlike Boquila’s imitation. Likely an envoy of Aconite’s, and that made something click in my mind. Maybe we wouldn’t need to exert force on the village itself after all.
A pair of large horned figures stomped up towards us as we approached, growling and looming over us. I tensed, oni would make strong guards for the village, but then a couple details jumped out at me. First, rather than spiked clubs or other heavy weapons, these two only had a knife and farming sickle in their hands, and their arms were not remotely bulging with muscle.
That wouldn’t itself be conclusive, as many demons like Crassula had physical strength beyond what their build suggested. But I also spotted, barely visible on their faces, holes cut out around each of their eyes. Or rather, the eyes of their masks. These weren’t oni, but namahage, weaker demons who disguised themselves as their stronger kin.
“Take us to Attenuata,” I said. I wouldn’t show fear, but neither would I out them to our warband. Call it weak demon solidarity. Besides, there was no benefit in it for me. “We have business to discuss with her.”
They escorted us to a larger wooden building, beckoning me inside but glowering through their masks at the others at the door. That worked fine for me, though; I’d prefer to handle this entirely on my own, save for bringing Gia for leverage. The namahage only let out minimal grunting at that.
Inside was a tall, dark-haired woman wearing an expensive silken dress. The pink garment was floral-patterned and had a high collar covering half her face, but the gray eyes that shone out from over it sized us up as we approached.
“Chief Attenuata?” I spoke first. “May I introduce Themosthete Hydrangea.” Gia had no claim to call herself a junior archon yet, but I wanted the chief to stand up and take notice. “I am Anthurium, her strategos.”
“Hello,” Gia said, nodding her head but showing me a confused look. I didn’t bother to explain. This would go smoother if she stayed quiet and let me do the talking.
“Lofty titles for a nascent clan and a small army.” The rokurokubi’s voice was low and smooth as she looked at us. “I hope you have good reason for insisting on meeting with me.”
“We need food,” Gia said, and I winced at how plaintively she put it. “The town we were just staying in was attacked, and…” I kicked her ankle and she jumped, looking at me in confusion. I shook my head.
Attenuata simply laughed, short and brusque. “I am afraid we have obligations to another themosthete. Along with many mouths to feed in our own village; which, I will note, holds ten times your own number or more.” I caught the flash of a smug smile over her collar. “If you intend to force me to oblige, you will have your work cut out for you.”
I gestured at Gia. “Numbers aren’t everything. Why don’t you take a closer look at our leader?”
The chief looked at me suspiciously before getting a focused look in her eyes. The next second she flinched with her whole body, head bounding a foot off her shoulders before her elastic neck snapped it back into place.
She was rattled. Good. “So that’s how it’s going to be, then?” she asked, voice tight as she looked at me and Gia. But I could see her tensing as if preparing to spring. Ready to fight if she had to, even knowing she couldn’t win. “What do you want from us?”
Negotiating from a position of strength was powerful. And after that look at Gia, we might have been able to demand practically anything. “I know you’re one of the villages supplying Aconite’s clan. I want you to give us the next shipment of food you would have sent to her instead.” But there were advantages to generosity, on occasion, too.
The rokurokubi’s serious mask slipped. For a second she was clearly startled before catching herself. “You know the Huntmistress would never accept that. We have no reason to try short-changing her, and if I gave you both the same quantity we’d have to dip deep into our stores. Why shouldn’t I kill you now rather than deal with that?”
“How much do you think your village matters to Aconite?” I asked her quietly. “How much do you think she values you and your people? I’m sure you could put up a good fight, chieftain. But is it really worth fighting for her?”
Attenuata studied me for a moment, eyes narrowed. “They’ll notice within days if a shipment goes missing,” she said, but I could tell she was listening. The mess with Taraxacum had been good for one thing, at least. I’d learned just how little regard Aconite had for those outside her hunters. It wasn’t hard to infer she’d be a terrible boss.
“A few days, and maybe another couple to send a runner to check. But very soon it won’t be her problem anymore.” This was a gamble, one I’d gone back and forth on whether it was worth it. A lot depended on whether she’d see more loss in letting a dozen armed demons shake her people down, or continuing to stay in thrall to Aconite.
She gazed at me in silence, before turning to Gia. “And why should I think I won’t have just as much of a problem on my hands with who comes next?” she asked, and I relaxed, slightly. That she was this willing to entertain the idea spoke volumes.
Gia blinked a couple times – not seeming to understand the chief’s full meaning, even if I did. “We shouldn’t need to come back here again. We just don’t have the money to pay you right now, miss, but we can have someone come back with money when we do?”
The chieftain stared more blankly at Gia for a second. She looked at me, eyebrows raised as if to ask ‘is she serious?’. “You might be tricking me. Or you might be a damn sight better for the village than Aconite has been,” she said after a long moment. “I’ll accept your proposal.”
Gia looked relieved, albeit still confused, but I couldn’t leave it quite at that. “And Aconite’s envoy will be dealt with appropriately?” The barghest would inform Aconite if given a chance.
“It would be preferable if you could deal with him yourselves, but…” Attenuata trailed off, looking from me to Gia. “I will see it done,” she said a touch grudgingly, and I smirked.
- - -
We were able to obtain a cart from the villagers, which as I supervised was piled high with bread, fruit, vegetables and rice, without obvious signs of short-changing us. Another cart would likely be needed if we were to get the whole of a shipment meant for Aconite, but for now, all seemed to be going to plan.
“Anthy?” I turned to see Uvaia looking at me, wings tucked behind her back and a nervous expression on her face. “I was just wondering, um… are we going to need more than food, while we’re here?”
Well, I was relieved she didn’t have the objection I expected from Sedum. “Depends on how strictly you define need. But we could certainly benefit from more than the essentials.”
“Right.” Uvaia nodded slowly. “So if I saw some other things that I think could help us, you might not mind if I took some of those?”
I blinked at her. “Uvaia, are you offering to help extort people for me?” I asked, chuckling. Phlox’s ex-soldiers were likely engaging in some of it themselves, which I would turn a blind eye to as long as there weren’t deaths, but my fluffy harpy was not one I’d expected this from.
“No!” She blushed. “I-I’m not talking about threatening them. Just taking. Stealing,” she added in a softer voice, glancing around. “I’ve been looking around, I saw through the chief’s window. She had a sword against the wall that was glowing like the ones in stories of humans. Do you think it’s a hero’s weapon?”
I felt my eyebrows shoot up. Enchanted weapons weren’t just the stuff of heroes, but they were almost wholly made and used by mortals, so in Hesperia they might as well be. “It does sound likely. Though I can’t say where she found that.” I hadn’t seen her as one to help in the Feast of Blood or other, smaller raids. But demons could have a very long history. Who knew just what she could have done in her life?
“So it must be valuable, right? We could sell it for a lot, in the city.” Some hesitance in her expression had settled down, and she looked more relaxed as she looked at me. “Do you want me to take it?”
“Only if you’re very confident you won’t get caught,” I told her, wincing. “She might kill you if she found you taking it.”
“I won’t get caught. I’ve done this before.” Uvaia showed me a small smile. “Though, I was usually able to get far away before my targets knew things were missing…”
“Right, wait until we’re almost ready to leave.” I narrowed my eyes at her. “You know I’m going to have to ask about the stories behind this, right?”
“There’s nothing too interesting to tell,” Uvaia said, blushing again. “But okay.”
I let her go, looking around. If I could keep the chief outside her home until Uvaia was done…
But as I looked around, Gia was speaking with the chief on her own now, and as I watched she handed over what looked like a full purse. Shit, who’d let her carry our money?
“Lady Hydrangea,” I said, hastening over. ‘What the hell are you doing?’ was not a part I could say aloud in front of others, much as I was tempted.
“Ah, Ann-! Uh, Anthurium,” Gia said, straightening up and nodding officiously. “I was just telling Attenuata how we did have the money to pay after all. Isn’t that great?” She smiled at me.
Fantastic. “Yes, of course. My lady, can we discuss in private for a moment?” That she had already handed over the money meant it would be hard to take it back, but at the very least I needed her to see what she’d done.
“Um, sure.” Gia looked taken aback, but followed me a few feet away.
“Where exactly did you find that money?”
“Sedum pointed out that we should have enough to pay after all,” she said brightly. I was struggling to believe he’d beggar himself over this when Gia added, “He pointed out the bandits might have taken things from… before, and it turned out he was right.”
Oh. Well, that wasn’t undeserved, but I didn’t have the luxury of caring about the moral rightness of our funding. Whether taken from Monem’s dead or Trozen’s still living, the Obsidian survivors’ wealth would have better spent on new weapons or the service of new troops. “So you just went around and asked them?”
“Pretty much, yeah. Some said that they didn’t have anything, but Crassula growled at them a little and most of them caved after that.” She looked unashamed to say it, and I’d have been proud of her standing up to our troops if she hadn’t wasted our money by doing it.
“Right. Well, I don’t object to you gathering up their funds,” I said, rubbing my forehead. Those demons’ morale might suffer, but I’d have needed to collect from them eventually anyway, and this shouldn’t be enough for them to mutiny over. “But the thing is that we didn’t need to pay for this food.”
Gia’s eyes widened and she let out a small shaky laugh. “I-I mean, I guess we didn’t need to, yeah, but isn’t it better that we did? It would be stealing otherwise, and Attenuata was saying how they won’t need to risk getting in trouble with Aconite this way…”
And they wouldn’t need to kill her barghest envoy, and wouldn’t be locked into supporting us until Aconite’s defeat. They could sit back and safely stay uninvolved, which was great for them, and not for us. “If they were willing to give it freely, it’s not stealing. Aconite’s exploiting them anyway, we were doing them a favor by taking care of this for them.”
“But she made it sound like we’d have to kill Aconite for that,” Gia said, looking at me wide-eyed. “And you made her sound really scary and dangerous, right? This way we don’t need to deal with any of that…”
For fuck’s sake. You try to be diplomatic and this is what it gets you, a tractable protégé asking questions she shouldn’t. We should have taken the food at swordpoint and damn the consequences, without bringing Aconite into the equation. “You should have come to me,” I said, avoiding the question. She clearly wasn’t ready to hear that we would be confronting Aconite, the first major obstacle in the way of Gia’s ascension. “If you get an idea that’s going to affect us all, you come to me before you act on it, understand?”
Gia shrank back at my words. But she didn’t back down. “She said if I was going to be chief– which I guess is kind of like what I am, now– I had to decide things for myself, not just go to you.”
I grit my teeth. Maybe we should have killed the chieftain after all. “You’ve been in this world for less than three days, Gia. There are a lot of factors that you’re not aware of, you’re not in a place to make informed decisions yet–”
“How informed do I need to be to not want to steal people’s food and leave them hungry?” Gia burst out, eyes flashing. “I saw how people looked when we were loading up the cart, Ann. They knew that was their food we’re taking. They knew we didn’t even pay, we just took it out of their hands,” she said, voice softer, pained. “Not caring if they needed it, if they’d go hungry because of it. Did you not see them, did you not– ?” She cut herself off before the last word, looking at me beseechingly.
…I supposed I hadn’t been looking. I’d worked out an equitable deal with the chief that would provide us needed supplies and deny them to our enemy, all for no cost save the life of one enemy demon and some mild peril for the town. I knew it would be fine, so who cared if the villagers didn’t understand?
Gia did, apparently. “I understand why you did this,” I told her, sighing. “But you still should have told me. The people wouldn’t have gone hungry, no moreso than they have from Aconite’s tribute. And we really could have used that money to help keep ourselves safe.” I didn’t know how I could afford to hire the Ebon Company now.
Gia looked at me silently for a second. “Was that why you told the bandits to take what they needed from the villagers here?” she asked, holding my gaze.
This girl really did test my poker face, sometimes. “I did not tell them any such thing.” I thought the implication should be clear to them without my saying so. And Uvaia wasn’t a bandit, anyway.
She let out a slow breath, nodding at me. “Okay. Crassula and I found Purpurea doing it, and she said ‘the commander’ understood even if I didn’t, so…” Gia shrugged helplessly. “Sorry for, um, accusing you, then.”
“Don’t worry about it.”
She was quiet for a moment. “Are we really that desperate for money?”
“Hesperia is dangerous. Especially in Aconite’s lands. If she finds us, right now she could kill us, and there’s not much we could do to stop her. I was hoping to hire on more help as protection.”
Gia paled. “Oh. I’m… sorry, Ann. I meant what I said, but I didn’t want to put us in danger.”
“We’ve already been in danger.” I shook my head. “But I’ll find a way to make it work.” I wouldn’t have been able to hire mercenaries until we reached the city anyway. And now thanks to Uvaia, I might have new options for revenue once we were there.