“Master.” Snow spoke as Dog swung his axe into the bark before him.
“Hmm?” He asked.
“Should I please you before we rest at night?” She asked, watching as he hacked away at the titanic tree.
“Why?” He asked.
“I used to for Karl.” She shrugged.
“I’m not Karl.”
“I know.” She smiled, “You have a guest.”
“I know.” He said, “Harlow.” He greeted, eyes focused, his arms moving in robotic swings, shoulders swollen from exertion.
“Dog.” She greeted, stepping next to Snow in the meadow at his back.
“What do you want?” He grunted.
“Just coming to chat. Should I go?” She asked.
“We don’t chat.” He pointed out, “I promised Victoria I wouldn’t rise to your baiting anymore. Don’t start.”
“I’m not planning to.” She said, “Just coming to see what you were up to.”
“Hmm.” He hummed, pulling his axe back and wiping at the sweat on his forehead.
“How does training go?” She asked.
“It goes.” He replied.
“Are you busy all night?” She asked.
He paused, “Why?”
“We could have drinks, maybe hit the town nearby. Traveling can get dull if you don’t take some time to see the world around us.”
“We kill people for a living, it’s rarely dull.” He pointed out.
“So why do you look so bored?” Harlow asked.
Dog paused, “I’ll need to ask Victoria.”
“That’s fine. Just let me know, no pressure or anything’ boss.” Harlow said, turning and heading for the campgrounds.
“Okay.” Dog said, hacking away again.
Siegfried smiled as she approached, his back to the tree, and Dog’s training grounds, his movement eerily quiet for a man as large as he, wearing so much armor, “So?”
“You might be a genuine genius.” Harlow blinked, “He was almost normal.”
“Give him time. The Cub doesn’t have many friends, if any. He’ll catch on. He’s rather clever.”
----------------------------------------
Dog glared from the back of the pub at every person that crossed by their table, Harlow smiling disarmingly in apology. He hadn't touched his ale, and the lively atmosphere affected him little. A bard sang, men and women laughed, drink and hot food flowed. He was surprised by the size of the village, large enough to have several pubs scattered throughout. Harlow had cited the one they'd entered as her favorite.
“Not used to all this I take it?” She laughed, watching as his rackles rolled along his shoulders.
“I don't like crowds.” He growled quietly.
“So why did you come?” She asked, sipping at her flagon, “I didn't know you were so opposed to it.”
“Victoria said to be nice.” He said it as if he'd been burned.
Harlow laughed again, “It's hard to do anything less than the lady says, I'll admit it. You can head back if you like, my girls are just hunting for loose lips now. They're still terrified of you, but at least you tried.”
He toyed with the idea, she could tell, but discarded it, “Victoria said to protect her property. I will wait to escort you four.”
“We can fight, you know.”
“I know.” He conceded, “But Victoria said.”
She eyed him, “Why do you follow her so dutifully? You barely know her.”
“It is the code. The mercenary code.”
Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.
“Sure, you should obey. But you're dutiful. You're loyal. Why?”
He glanced around the bar again, eyes scanning where Harlow knew her girls worked, before he answered, “It is the code.”
“Is that really all it is?”
He looked at her at last, and she suppressed a shiver at the feral look in his dark eyes. She took him in, in that brief moment, looking him up and down in full since he'd been cleaned, and prepared to Victoria’s standard. His dark hair was still an unruly mane, eyes as black as cole. His dress was fine, and fanciful even for a mere bodyguard. But the way he wore it was wrong, as if he'd merely donned the linen and cloth garb, instead of really wearing it. As if someone had taken a pack hound and done their best to dolly it up, like the nobles of Cordon were prone to do.
“Yes.” He answered at last. She realized, after some chiding from Siegfried, that his tone was as coarse, and rough as it was from a lack of use. The night they’d spent thus far in the tavern had cemented it, but he had not spoken consistently to anyone in what she’d estimated was many years. Siegfried had guessed, but admitted it was only a hunch till. Yet in spite of that, he was well spoken. A voice like harsh stone upon stone, grating, and yet his choice of words had improved the longer he’d been in camp, much to her irritation.
“Where are you from?” She asked, “I heard you don’t remember.”
“I don’t.”
“Not even a little? Not even where you were born?”
“No.”
She hummed, “The human realm is a big place. I suppose that’s not impossible. Have you ever been through here?”
“No. I missed most of the central territories. North, south. East and west. But never the core realms.”
“This is Elgen.” She said, “It's between Cordon, Korone, and The Holy Realm of Irda. It's considered a crucial halfway point between all, and it technically falls under the jurisdiction of the Kingdom of Korone.”
“Is that why we are here?”
“It is.” She nodded, “We’re looking for information. Anything we can. Where work might be good, where other companies are finding themselves, where some companies we want to avoid are. Men are easily coerced with drink and flesh. It takes little of both to get lips flapping.”
Dog snorted.
“Say what you will,” She shrugged, “But my scouts serve a valuable purpose amongst the Highgarden company. We do good work.”
“I do not intend to insult your capability.”
“Then what?”
“That was the first time you said something I thought was funny.”
She scowled, “What was funny about it?”
“That it was true.” He admitted, sitting up straighter, nursing the mug he’d yet to drink from still, his eyes distant as he looked over her girls and where they’d been positioned again.
She shifted, “And that’s funny?”
“Of course it is.”
“Why?”
“Because it's true.”
She rolled her eyes, “I’m asking for an explanation.”
“I gave it.”
“I am asking for a more detailed explanation.”
He eyed her for a moment, “Men and women of high birth and otherwise are quick to look down on whores. Yet they would not exist, if it were not for the need of it. Some women enjoy their work, others do it because it is easy and convenient. But the truth remains. Gold flows because people are willing to spend it. I see no reason to look down on those who capitalize on it.”
She snorted this time.
“Will you give me your detailed explanation?” He asked.
“The same as you, I suppose. I didn’t realize you were such a patron of the flesh market.”
“I’m not.”
“A sympathizer, then.”
“I am not.”
“So what would you describe yourself as?”
“I don’t consider myself anything.”
“You just don’t see the point in it, is that it?”
“Yes.”
“Rather arrogant of you, isn’t it?”
“I dunno.”
“You really aren’t a talker.”
“No point.”
“I’d have to disagree, given my skill set.” She replied, pausing as his eyes focused, “What-?”
“One of your girls just got grabbed.” He was already moving. He bulldozed his way past the tables between them and the rear door, smashing it apart in an explosion of wood and splinters that left Harlow struggling to follow. She smashed her way out after him, her girls in tow, daggers pulled from skirts and hidden sheathes.
Dog had a man pinned to a nearby wall, the clamor in the tavern behind them rising as he choked the man on his knees, his knife held to his throat. Harlow’s woman was on her knees choking and spluttering, unable to stand, her head lolling from side to side. Another man was broken on the ground at her back, his hands twisted back over his wrists, legs kicked in.
“I think she was drugged.”
“Obviously.” Harlow growled, stepping past him, “Anna, can you hear me? Can you speak?”
“I’m-” She vomited, “Sorry, Captain. I can’t.”
“Get her up, we need to go. Now!” Harlow ordered, “Dog? Can you carry him?”
The man was knocked unconscious with a violent smack to his temple, before being tossed over Dog’s shoulder, his arms and legs nearly scraping against the ground, “Good to go.”
“Run!” Harlow ordered, her unconscious scout carried between her and her remaining girls.
“What a night, eh boss?” A girl laughed.
“Don’t start, May. Don’t start. We’re in Korone in two days. This was the last thing we needed.”
“We didn’t wear any Company gear, it's fine.” Dog replied.
“Unless someone can make out our mugs.” Harlow sighed.