“Everybody has their price. I don’t mean that you can buy everybody with money, mind you. Some of us mercs won’t work for you no matter how much you offer them if they don’t find you up to their standards for employers. I mean that everybody has a price on their head, be it still attached to their body or not.” - Gretchen “Headhunter” Tovarik, Mercenary from Clangeddin, circa 502 VA.
“Good to meet you again, Edelstein. Wish it was under better circumstances, though,” said Guillaume du Riffons when he arrived at the mercenary encampment around three weeks later. That he arrived only a week after Reinhardt’s fastest estimate showed that the retired mercenary clearly put quite a bit of importance in the matter.
Guillaume du Riffons came with twenty mercenaries from the Silver Falcons as escort, as well as reassurance in case Michel decided not to behave himself. Wilhelmina could not leave her post at Algenverr, though, so she was not present. Instead, the old former knight traveled to Knallzog on his own with just his escorts alongside him.
“You’re only saying that because you’re about to lose some money today, I bet,” replied Reinhardt teasingly. He welcomed his retired former compatriot with a grin and a friendly handshake, before leading the group deeper into the encampment. “As I mentioned to you in the letter I sent, a bunch of your son’s people wanted to follow him regardless of the circumstances, so there’s quite a few of them around.”
“At least the brat learned which of his friends are truly friends out of all this,” said the old retired knight with a sigh. It was one thing if the people in question followed his son when they were trying to gain wealth and status for themselves, but it was a whole other thing to follow him into captivity like this. “There’s still hope for that brat, I guess. How many of his compatriots chose to follow him?”
“A little over a hundred. Got to say that your boy is pretty popular, all considered,” said Reinhardt nonchalantly. “For what it’s worth, out of our friendship, I’ll only charge you at cost for the rest of them. Just the fees for keeping them clothed and fed over the past year and the transportation fee from Levain to here, for the lot.”
“Very kind of you. Honestly, I was worried if I even brought enough coins to ransom the lot of them or not. Didn’t feel right to just get some of them and leave the rest behind, you know?” said Guillaume with a relieved sigh at Reinhardt’s words. “I think I brought enough for all of them if you’re just ransoming the rest at cost.”
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“Eh, if you didn’t bring enough, you could always borrow some from us. We won’t charge you too high an interest, just double it every year,” replied Reinhardt in jest as he laughed. Lending money or favors were rarely done amongst mercenaries, mostly due to the fact that they couldn’t be certain that the other party would remain alive to pay them back. That Reinhardt even offered to lend Guillaume money was considered a gesture of friendship and kindness in the mercenary circle.
“Heh. I think that’s a generous offer, but unfortunately I’ll have to pass,” replied Guillaume with a chuckle. “Oh, there’s the rascal. I see you let them keep in shape even though they’re your prisoners, huh?” noted the old man.
Reinhardt had allowed Michel and his men relative autonomy within the mercenary camp. They were not really limited in what they could do, other than not being allowed to hold a weapon or leave the camp. Some of the more adventurous of Michel’s men had even volunteered to help out where they could in exchange for a small salary.
They then spent that salary on better food and beverages, or to visit the prostitutes the company employed, effectively bringing the money back into the company’s coffers in the end. By that point in time, most of the group had wisened up to the trick and volunteered to help out on a regular basis. They knew that it was not worth jeopardizing the good way in which they were treated anyway, so they behaved themselves throughout.
“Yeah, we provide for them, but if they wanted more and didn’t mind doing some honest work to get it, who are we to refuse them?” said Reinhardt as he spotted what Guillaume noticed. Michel and a few of his compatriots were lugging around firewood to where the company’s cooks were working on that day’s dinner. It was the sort of menial tasks they helped around with while in captivity.
As a side benefit, it also allowed them to exercise their muscles while they were technically prisoners.
“Oy, Michel, gather your men up!” yelled Reinhardt from the distance, which naturally attracted the attention of Michel and his companions. They looked at him in confusion for a moment, before Michel noticed his old father standing beside Reinhardt and nodded rather nervously. He then said something to his companions and they split off, probably to gather up the rest of their group from wherever they were.
Within less than ten minutes, the entire group had gathered together and stood in a neat formation with Michel du Riffons at the front and center. Meanwhile, Guillaume walked over and looked at the members of the group. Some of them were familiar to him as they had left to support Michel back during the schism, while the younger ones were a bit less familiar to him, as some of them joined the group in Clangeddin.
Either way, he gave a satisfied nod after he counted their number and turned back to Reinhardt with a serious look on his face.
“They seem to be fine, so let us talk business now,” said the old retired mercenary with a sigh as he knew that it was time for the reckoning. Behind him, Michel looked down out of embarrassment as he knew that the situation happened due to his willfulness.
“Certainly, old friend,” said Reinhardt as he invited Guillaume over to a nearby table where Lars and Loren already waited with several sheets of parchment in hand that detailed the ransom of the people involved. “Let us get down to the coins, then.”