The Thundering Queen was located in a small, nameless cluster of buildings stretching between the low street and the square containing Kali's statue. It was still technically in the slums, but was near enough to the Elysium hills and the main strip that it couldn't be defined purely by poverty. From his cottage, Gideon started off east through the slums, then took a turn north through the snaking back streets towards the central square.

For some reason he’d half expected to see the skinless corpses still hanging from the statue, then felt foolish after seeing that wasn’t the case. It’d been almost a week since they’d been strung up. It would have been very strange if the city watch had left them hanging for so long, and Gideon felt grateful to not have to see them again.

Activity buzzed throughout the square, with hundreds of moving feet kicking up clouds of dust that rose high into the air. Many passersby hauled small carts behind them as they traversed the square, doing for themselves what should’ve been a job for a pack animal. People walked around as if there had been no skinless corpses hanging from Kali's arms and neck only a few days before.

A ring of food vendors had formed around Kali’s statue: selling bread, mostly, but Gideon saw one stall offering dates and cactus fruit. He guessed they’d received a shipment of desert fruits from Kenan recently, and wasn’t terribly surprised to see the stall was quite popular. Winter had just begun, meaning fresh fruit would be a rare commodity for the next six months.

Hussars were present in the square as well. Most simply marched through it, heading to other destinations in the slums, but some were clearly on patrol as they weaved through the crowds. After hearing a commotion nearby, Gideon stopped to watch as a squad of hussars frisked a dark skinned Forelian slave, forcibly searching through his cart and carelessly tossing his things onto the street to be trampled upon by passersby.

Would Surelin want me to stop them?

Shaking his head, Gideon navigated away from the hussars through the swarms of people and carts, heading north out of the square. He vaguely remembered visiting the Thundering Queen at some point during his bender, though he couldn’t remember much about it beyond its location and the fact that he’d been there.

After exiting the square he reached the tavern within minutes. It was a windowless white and brown timber-framed building squeezed between two tall manor houses, the kind of place that was easy to miss in the clutter of structures lining both sides of the street. No signpost existed for the tavern, and if it were located on the market street that might’ve meant the place was rather exclusive. But in the slums, taverns rarely saw any need to publicly display their names, mostly because their clientele were almost always locals.

Gideon stepped inside and discovered that the place was very busy despite the early morning hour. Taverns in the slums sometimes doubled as an inn of sorts, a spot where a person could get a temporary room or something to eat, if they didn’t want to get a drink. The Thundering Queen was clearly a popular breakfast destination.

Barmaids carrying trays full of food weaved past tables filled with diners beneath the dull yellowish glow of glass ceiling lamps. All in all, the tables occupied most of the tavern’s space, with a curving bar filling out the room’s far left corner. Behind the bar stood a heavyset Losoan bartender, serving drinks to people sitting on stools opposite him. Across from the bar in the far right corner rested a raised dais of sorts, and on top of it sat a young Losoan man wearing minstrel clothing, playing a quiet tune on his lute for the diners.

Do I remember this place because of the lute player?

Motion at the bar grabbed Gideon's attention. Julian sat at the bar’s end beside the wall, waving to him. He was wearing the wingless city watchman’s armor.

Gideon navigated through the tables, and sat down on the stool next to Julian.

“There he is,” Julian crowed. “Dance’s piss drunk bastard.”

“Fuck off,” Gideon growled.

Julian laughed, then turned towards the bartender. “Bring us a bottle of whiskey.”

Gideon watched the bartender intently as he brought it over with two shot glasses.

“Seems you had quite the day yesterday,” Julian said, smirking.

“I did?”

“Yep. The diviners said you stumbled into their temple and ranted at them about slavery and other random bullshit for hours.”

“...Oh.”

“They called us in after you tried to feed whiskey to their statue of Kali. Made a nice mess of their carpets.”

A quiet sigh left Gideon, and Julian let out a dry chuckle as he poured whiskey into the shot glasses. He lifted his glass for a toast.

“To the slave princess!”

Gideon raised a wary eyebrow at him, but accepted the toast. An intense feeling of relief washed over him when the whiskey touched his tongue.

“We know about your involvement with the slaves. Hey, relax,” Julian added quickly after Gideon narrowed his eyes at him. “They hired you to free their princess and join the attack on the Capellas, right?”

He thinks they hired me? Gideon thought, staring. Huh. Well, I’ve got no reason to correct him.

“But I don’t work for them, I work for the Manicini,” Julian continued. “It'll be no problem at all to convince my bosses your involvement with the slaves was just business. Also….”

He leaned over to whisper. “We know what happened with the murdered hussar.”

Alarm instantly crashed over Gideon.

“I said relax, kid. His wife explained it. You saved them, right?”

“...Yeah,” Gideon replied warily.

“Then don’t look so upset. Look, if you’re worried about the great houses coming for you over this slave shit, don’t. They know just as well as we do that this is how it goes. One day you’re working for them, next day you’re working for us.”

“If you don’t care about any of that then why the fuck am I here?”

Julian ignored him. “I heard about what you did in Kenan. That win you pulled off was impressive. What’d you do with the money?”

“I spent it,” he lied.

“All of it?”

“Yeah all of it, so what?”

Julian let out some barking laughter. “I’m just curious, kid. What, you got something against two old friends catching up?”

We aren’t friends, Gideon thought, staring at him.

“I killed Romus,” he said conversationally.

The smile on Julian’s face briefly faltered, and he tried to cover it by moving to pour himself another shot.

A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

“Did you?”

“Yeah. He tried to rob me after the tournament.”

Julian shook his head before swallowing his drink. “...What a stupid asshole.”

“Weren’t you two friends?”

There was a hint of anger in Julian’s voice. “Friendly enough, sure. But that’s the business.”

“That’s the business,” Gideon agreed.

“Honestly, it's not surprising. He would get angry over the strangest shit. Took offense to things other men wouldn’t even bat an eye at. Even leapt to the wrong conclusions sometimes just to get mad, it seemed. Pretty sure he thought you were getting special treatment from Dance.”

A short burst of surprised laughter left Gideon.

“...Dance hated me.”

“I know,” Julian said, shrugging.

A moment of silence fell between them, and Gideon looked down at his empty shot glass, thinking.

It feels like he’s trying to get something from me, but I'm not sure what.

He looked over at Julian. “So what’d you do after Forelia?”

“Me? Didn’t do anything nearly as interesting as winning a tournament. I took a caravan back here and joined the city watch. Got married, too.”

Gideon’s eyebrows lifted with surprise. “Oh. Congratulations.”

Julian grinned at him. “The honest life is just as fucking boring as campaigning, but going home to the same bed and same woman every night isn’t so bad.”

“Hm,” Gideon grunted.

“Why don’t you join up?” Julian abruptly asked. “The great houses pay hand over fist for experienced mercs like us.”

“What,” Gideon scoffed. “Wait, that’s what this is about? You’re trying to fucking recruit me?”

“Yep. And why not? You’re clearly out of a job. Plus you said you’re out of money too, right?”

Gideon frowned.

“This kinda life really isn’t so bad. And the Manicini won’t give two squirts about your time working for the slaves if I make it clear it was just business. They’ve got deep fucking pockets, Gideon.”

“So you’re just offering me a job out of the goodness of your heart? That’s what you’re expecting me to believe?”

“I’ll get a commission if you sign up,” Julian replied bluntly.

They stared at one another for a moment, each gauging the other.

“A pretty big one," he added. "Since you’re an experienced swordsman.”

I think I actually believe him. He’s not really the conspiring type. But joining the city watch…?

“I was thinking about leaving Loso, actually,” Gideon said.

A deep frown appeared on Julian’s face. “That’s pretty surprising to hear. How exactly is a drunk supposed to get his drink out in the wilderness?”

“I’m not a drunk,” Gideon replied, scowling.

“Whatever you say. Look, I don’t like these fuckers any more than you do. But the pay is great. And we hardly have to do anything for it.”

“That’s not what I’ve heard.”

“Oh yeah? What have you heard?”

“That the slaves have been kicking your asses.”

“Not true,” Julian replied confidently. “They really can’t do shit to us. We mostly just stand around on guard, maybe clear out a few houses if and when we feel like it. In fact, I got assigned patrol duty in the temple district yesterday because things were so quiet. Which was very lucky for you I’d like to add.”

Gideon frowned at him. He’s actually making this sound like easy money.

Julian seemed to sense where his thoughts were, and gave Gideon a greedy smile.

“I tell you what, kid. With everything that’s been going on recently a couple hussar slots have opened up. You could be wearing plate mail and wings for the Manicini tomorrow, that is if I felt like talking to the right people.”

“Really,” Gideon said dubiously.

“‘Course. You’ve got the skills. And the pedigree, matter of fact. Tons of people in the business knew Dance.”

“Hm.”

“You do know that he had other bastards, right?”

Gideon’s mouth instantly fell open with shock.

“So you didn’t know? Yep, he sure did. Whenever we’d stop back here or at any other shithole out on the trail he’d get drunk, and more often than not nine months later some poor lady would pop out a kid. Well, he was always popular to a fault with women. You're far from being the only one, trust me, you’re just the one who happened to cause us the worst problem.”

“I don’t, uh…,” Gideon trailed off, flabbergasted. Some part of him didn’t want to believe it, but another part of him knew it was the truth. That type of careless behavior suited Dance through and through.

“I can probably track them down for you,” Julian said. “If you want. I’ve got some connections in the city watch I can use for that. Call it a gift between old friends.”

“...No,” Gideon replied, shaking his head quickly. “I don’t want to know anything about them. It's better if I don’t know.”

Julian gave him a careless smile. “Suit yourself. Hey, word of advice. If you’re not gonna work with us? Try to get out of Loso. Or out of the slums, at the very least. The slaves can’t win, but indications are that they plan to go down fighting sometime soon. Kali knows what’s gonna happen, but it’s only gonna get worse before it gets any better.”

He then began to wave the bartender over, clearly getting ready to pay for the drinks and leave.

“Wait,” Gideon said abruptly.

A smirk briefly appeared on Julian’s face, and he lowered his hand.

“What’s the pay, exactly?”

“As a hussar? Five denars a day ‘till this shit blows over. Triple that if you get into a fight, plus a fifteen denar bounty per corpse if you can prove your kills.”

Gideons eyebrows lifted with surprise. That’s way more than I was expecting.

“We’d put you into an apprenticeship position as a junior hussar. Eventually you’d be in command of your own platoon.”

“Don’t give a shit about that.”

“Didn’t think you would,” Julian laughed. “Point is there’s room for advancement. Make a big enough name for yourself and they’ll put you in their honor guard, which means honor guard pay. I mean it, sky's the limit for you.”

“Sounds like a good opportunity.”

“It is. Interested after all?”

Gideon went quiet, thinking.

Surelin would absolutely hate me for this. But then again, I’m probably never going to see her again. And the money I have isn’t going to last much longer….

An aggravated sigh exploded from him.

“...Fuck it. Yeah, why not.”

“Great!” Julian said immediately. “I’ll get you signed up as soon as I get back. Tell ya what, you take the rest of the day off to get sobered up.”

Gideon sighed again. “...Fine. Where should I meet you tomorrow?”

“You remember that old hiring hall Dance favored back in the day? We’re stationed there. Be there tomorrow morning at sunup.”

“Sunup.”

Julian clapped Gideon on the back, grinning from ear to ear.

“This’ll be great, kid! You’ll see. Oh, goes without saying, but uh…don’t touch the bottle again until you’re all settled in with us. Alright?”

“Whatever.”

“Go home and get some rest. You’re gonna need it.”

With that, Julian dropped a few denars on the bar and stood up. He walked out of the tavern whistling cheerfully to himself, with something that looked an awful lot like a spring in his step.

Wonder how much that asshole just made by recruiting me.

After gulping down another shot Gideon stood up, and followed Julian out.

----------------------------------------

He took the walk back to his cottage slowly, thinking over their conversation.

I get that he wanted to recruit me, but why’d he have to tell me about the other bastards?

It was an entirely unwelcome wrinkle to his situation, one he didn’t want to think about.

I wonder how many are out there.

He shook his head, and forced himself to think about what he’d just agreed to instead.

Doubt I’ll stick around long enough to ‘advance’ very far. Knowing me I’ll probably just quit and waste time until I’m ready to do something else.

Some part of him knew that signing up to be a mercenary again ran counter to everything Surelin had said to him about changing. It definitely wasn’t possible to become the better person she was talking about if he took on mercenary work, especially if it was aimed at suppressing the slave rebellion she was personally leading. But the change she'd described seemed impossibly far away now that she was gone, completely beyond his reach.

I can’t be that person you were talking about, Surelin. Not without you here to help me. I’m not half as brave as you are, or half as strong. I know that I’m really just weak at heart. I always have been.

A young Losoan couple wearing heavy winter coats happened to be walking past, and when the wind suddenly picked up they began to cling to one another, talking loudly about the weather and laughing gaily. Gideon wrapped his arms tightly across his chest and sped up.

I’ll be a hussar since it’s the only thing I know how to do. But I’m not gonna do a single damn thing I disagree with. I don’t give a fuck anymore, Julian. See if I don’t.