The night was eerily quiet. All that Nithim could hear was the quiet thump of two horses’ hooves against the long, beaten dirt road. Long rows of trees towered over them, encroaching on the cloudless sky above. A deep blue crescent moon was all that lit their path, casting a pair of inky shadows in their wake.
Hours passed, the same scenery constantly repeating itself. More dense trees, more dirt road, more impenetrable darkness. Eventually, though, the light of a torch pierced through the endless monotony like an oasis. Its warm orange light flickered on the trunks of trees, illuminating deep inside the forest, away from the road.
“We’re here, Nith.” The woman riding next to Nithim said, waking him from his dazed autopilot.
“Ugh, my back…” Nithim complained, steering his horse off of the safety of the road and into the forest.
“Honey, I understand that you want secrecy, but is riding without light necessary?” She complained.
“Aruha, I’m carrying a big enough accounting error that Chuck didn’t want to carry me here at all.” Nithim said, brushing the black mane of his horse. “If anyone at all saw it, how do you want me to explain it away? ‘Oh, don’t mind me, just taking my massive sack of money for a walk! It really gets anxious if you don’t get it out every once in a while.’ It’s a bit inconvenient, but this is better than risking someone seeing us on the way out of town.” Nithim replied, clearly a bit cranky after the monotonous journey.
“...Fair.” Aruha tersely responded before going silent as they approached.
“Halt!” A voice came from further into the forest. From behind a tree came a short, well-built man, a scar running from the top of his shining bald head down the left side of his face and to his chin. He brandished a bearded axe that shined far too much in the torchlight to have seen much use. “Your belongings or your head. You choose which one you’re keeping.” He snarled, taking a heavy step forward.
“Ha! You’re a funny one, Bolo. You know why we’re here.” Nithim pushed himself off of his horse, a massive sack of coins at his waist jingling as he landed.
“Oh, if it isn’t our illustrious Baron. This humble warriors’ encampment welcomes you.” Bolo grinned as he gave an exaggerated bow. “Right this way, my lord.”
The vertically challenged bandit escorted them toward the light in the forest. They came upon a huge encampment, reinforced by wooden spike fences and guard towers that could even reach above the canopy. Inside, burly men and women sat beside huge bonfires - some with black cauldrons hanging over them, some roasting entire wild beasts on spits.
“Welcome, esteemed guests!” A voice boomed over all of the bustle, drowning it out as if it were never there at all. Nithim looked up to find the source of the voice - a bearded man that wouldn’t look a day over 30 if not for his curly, matted black beard that extended like a carpet all the way down his chest. The bandits all stopped for a moment to see who the man was talking to - Nithim and Aruha exchanged wordless friendly greetings with a handful of them, but soon, they all enthusiastically returned to their mission of draining every cask of mead in sight before the sun could come up.
This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.
“It’s an honor and a pleasure, Lord Baron. Is there anything we should discuss about this… arrangement, or shall we continue our end of the deal as we have?” The burly man pleasantly asked, ushering them inside of a huge tent and seating them at a table whose whole surface was a huge map.
“A pleasure, Draco.” Nithim greeted him in return as they sat around the map. “You do excellent work.”
“You flatter me!” Draco gave a bellowing laugh.
“Since our last discussion, Bromlett on the eastern lakefront has tragically fallen upon some misfortune.” Nithim chuckled. “I’ve graciously offered my assistance, so your efforts there will no longer be needed. Instead, I’ve been eyeing Midlow to the west. They’re sitting between our Minir and the Capital, and their fares upon my merchants have been woefully taxing to my own profits.”
“Midlow…” Draco grimaced. “Military presence is heavy there. They’re a big producer of steel, and things have been moving lately. They’re especially interested in buying it up for some reason.”
“Will that be a problem?” Nithim asked, sliding his excessively heavy sack of money toward the bandit across the table from him.
“A problem? Pah! Don’t underestimate my men!” Draco scoffed. “We will, however, need some spare resources if we want to be able to take on the more heavily-armed caravans.”
“More than this? I’m funding you with more than I give my own armies!” Nithim exclaimed. “If your men are half as good as you claim they are, this is plenty!”
“Watch your mouth, Nithim. You’re not the one cutting throats.” Draco warned Nithim, his eyes narrowing into a menacing gaze.
“Or what?” Aruha interjected.
“Shut it, woman! The adults are talking.” Draco shouted down at Aruha, his eyes glowing with rage.
“Oh, no, keep on talking big. What’ll you do? The moment you do anything to us, the Royal Guardsmen turn you into a burning pile on the side of the road and use your little fortress here as kindling.” She growled at him, making a threat of her own.
“Let’s test that.” Draco stood, pulling a shortsword from his leg.
“Wait wait wait, let’s discuss this, yeah? Like civilized people?” Nithim tried to de-escalate, but it was far too late.
“Discuss this!” Draco yelled, his short fuse long since burned through. Two times, his blade flashed through the air, and two heads rolled. He bent over and picked up Nithim’s payment, the sack now soaked with the baron’s blood.
The bandit chieftain carried the bag outside with him to get a taste of the cool night air and clear his head. His shoulders heaved as he sighed disappointedly. Once again, he’d lost his temper - this time costing his band a valuable and consistent payday, everything he’d been using to feed his troops and maintain their gear. He could practically hear the rhythmic marching of Royal Guardsmen, using excessive force to protect and avenge nobility as they always had.