“So you just need me to tell you who’s land is where?” The village chancellor asks, not fully understanding some of the terms Third was using when he asked.

“Yeah, we have some drawings of the area.” Third confirms pulling the stack of modified images from a backpack he’d carried with him. The images were replaced with simple colors so as to not alarm the chancellor by the extreme detail of the images. Retrieving the widened version of the map, Third points out a few easy to notice points of interest.

“If that’s Cor’ Dulin,” The chancellor begins to explain, tracing his finger along the path of a river they’d mapped. “Then everything over to this side of the mountain range is Guardia Kingdom.”

Noting the familiar sounding place, Third waits patiently as the chancellor continues his explanation.

Things were far more complex than he had anticipated. A few of the locations the chancellor pointed out changed hands so many times that it became hard to keep track of who held which village or fortress.

“And what about up here.” Third finally asks after filling a dozen blanks on the map with the information the chancellor relayed.

“No-man’s land.” The chancellor says plainly, catching Third completely off-guard.

“What?” Third asks glancing between the small heavily embattled lands and the massive expanse of ‘no-man’s land’. “How?”

“Not how, Who.” The chancellor explains. “Three savage tribes call that place home and have been warring over the land amongst themselves for thousands of years. Any attempts to invade the land seem to unite the tribes under a common enemy, and that enemy hasn’t had thousands of years practice like the tribes.”

“Great.” Third mumbles to himself as he notes the story down simply.

“Now, I had a request for you if you don’t mind me asking.” The chancellor finally adds after Third was satisfied with the annotations on his map.

Third hadn’t anticipated this. The visit was entirely unplanned, so had he been holding onto this request or was this a sudden thought? Third was curious, so he took the bait. “What do you need?”

“Help us to overthrow Count Ruker’s oldest son before he can become heir to this land.” The chancellor utters as if the words were sitting at the edge of his tongue for uncomfortably long.

“So, what is your request chancellor?” Third repeats without allowing his feelings to reach his face.

“The well,” The chancellor answers after a moment. “One isn’t sufficient any longer for the public. Most of the taps are in use from dawn to dusk.”

“I see.” Third nods gathering the maps and extending his hand to the chancellor to shake.

“That’s not an issue. We’ll have a new well dug,” He pauses a moment until an odd smile occupies his face. “In eleven days.”

The specificity of the number struck the chancellor, but he couldn’t quiet understand its significance. Third wasn’t someone he could pretend to understand.

This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.

Every time he came it felt like a whirlwind had passed without leaving a trace of its ferocity. Three times now he’d shocked the chancellor. And this time hadn’t been any different. Stacks of maps documenting incredible spans of land with incredible detail, going as far as including unnavigable waterways. The chancellor could barely hold his breath as he saw the brazen display.

In the chancellor’s mind, only one type of map would give greater importance to accuracy than simplicity, the maps of war. And Third had shown one displaying nearly the entire mid-continent.

The chancellor likely wouldn’t have slipped his tongue in such a way earlier if he hadn’t been so taken aback by the maps he was being quizzed on. But he also hadn’t expected Third to reject the notion so completely and abruptly.

The chancellor again heaved the large lantern off the shelf and, for what felt like the thousandth time this month, invited the council to meet.

“Perhaps we need a new color just for them.” The chancellor complains to himself while waiting impatiently.

“No, I mean that makes sense.” Gary nods with his hand rubbing firmly against his forehead. “Of course, there would be three ancient warring tribes and heavily disputed land between us and what we need. Why would anything be simple. Come on, let’s get real.”

“Complaining about it isn’t going to solve this any faster.” Jeff rebukes without looking away from the high-resolution maps of a few areas near the plains where the tar pit sat.

“Well, it certainly won’t hurt.” Gary mutters before leaning back in his chair and shutting his eyes in hopes it might slow the oncoming headache.

“That’s not everything.” Third eventually says without a clear idea of how best to explain the request he’d received. “He also requested that we perform a coup.”

“Have ‘em talk to Cheryl in High-Risk Consulting. She can put them in contact with Blackwater.” Gary mutters without fully processing the words as they came or left. Eventually the odd flavor of them tickled enough to cause him to revisit the entire string in his head. Groaning he rubs his shut eyes and limply shakes his head. “You should have just stopped at the warring tribe of savages.”

“What’d you tell him.” Sophia asks, attempting to picture the kind man making such a request.

“Nothing, so he dropped it.” Third shrugs without mentioning the other deal he’d made. It entirely stipulated on weather or not they could begin processing diesel fast enough, and Third figured the added pressure wasn’t needed.

“I wonder what could cause a village elder to want his lord killed?” Jeff ponders with his hand to his chin. They hadn’t heard much about the Count before, but considering the state of the village he didn’t appear to be maliciously interfering with his citizen.

“Maybe the taxes are too high?” Gary chuckles raising his head and taking another look at the mounted television screen. “Honestly, it’s not important. Nor is an ancient blood feud. We are a solutions company, and solutions form best in the field.”

Pulling a phone from his pocket he taps a few times and lifts it to his ear.

“Load up two Apache Z’s and put ‘em on standby. And have the Crown Osprey refitted for long distance.”

A soft response came but Gary cut it off with a shake of his head. “No, I remember exactly what Major Snider said but those aren’t his birds, and this isn’t his decision. Have it done. We’re leaving as soon as possible.”

Ignoring the voice, Gary pulls the phone away and ends the call. Turning to Third who’s eyes flared with new-found energy, he calms his breathing before straitening his posture and asking, “President Reynold, with your permission I move to secure this resource by any means necessary.”

Nodding in response, Third glances to the few voices who’s opinion might sway his own. Jeff Guntly, his Chief Security Officer would only make a decision he thought would cause least harm to the company and its employees. So, when even he nodded softly to the silent question, Third understood how perilous things would become the moment the last diesel tank ran dry.

And then he turned to Sophia, the younger Marketing Department head who’d taken an immense interest in the local culture and was often exposing important insights into how certain actions might affect their image to the locals.

Sophia was conflicted clearly, as she refused to lock Third's stare until the heat of it could no longer be bared. “Please, just try not to antagonize them.”

Hearing the plea and nodding to it, Third reaches the conclusion he had initially expected. “Let’s go.”

And to this, once again the three unanimously agreed, and said, almost in a rehearsed unison, “You aren’t going.”