“How did it go?” Bassett inquired, a look of concern on his face.
While Valentin grappled with his thoughts and accelerated heartbeat, Basset had noticed Valentin leave the room instantly. Just outside, by the walls, Bassett sat in wait. The conspicuous frame of Darri who had moved to next to him made it difficult for Bassett to blend into the room.
“It could have gone worse,” Valentin admitted. “We shared a meal. She showed me a basket.”
Bassett relaxed, “I’m glad that’s all. And you must remember, Valentin, the warriors you meet here are mercenaries. Their loyalty is to coin and power, not honor or heroism. If the people after you start snooping around and offering some coin for information, you’ll have people sniffing all around you.”
Valentin noticeably deflated at Bassett’s reminder. His words only made Morna’s feel all the more suffocating, lending credence to her being the only one he could truly rely on if things grew difficult.
“So, let me get this straight, you were waiting out here nervously while he was eating a good meal inside?” Darri interjected with confusion.
“He was eating with Morna, Darri.” Bassett responded emphasizing Morna’s name.
“So? Isn’t she the one that wants us to look after him? You made it seem like something bad was happening,” Darri frowned before leaning closer. “Besides, have you seen her? She could be an artist’s inspiration to depict the Mother herself.”
“Well yes,” Bassett conceded uncomfortably. “But you know how she can be.”
Darri’s eyebrows furrowed even more. A look of annoyance mixed into his confusion. “No, I don’t know how she can be, Bassett. You’re the only one of us that has to deal with her and you don’t tell me anything.”
“Look, Darri, I’m sorry. All you need to know is that she’s dangerous.”
“Yeah, she’s a prominent member of a powerful warband. Of course she’s dangerous, Bassett,” Darri barked at Bassett but tried to keep his voice low enough to not attract additional attention. “Why would the person she’s taking care have need to be concerned about her? Wouldn’t make sense to be violent with him, would mess up the ransom reward.”
“Just trust me, Darri,” Bassett pleaded softly. “Please.”
Darri looked deeply dissatisfied with the conversation. “Fine,” he said irritably before walking away. Unfortunately, due to his outsider status, his dramatic march out was softened significantly by the deference he was supposed to show to all those around him. His hulking torso and delicate footwork were an odd mismatch.
Bassett put his hand over his face and rubbed his temples with his thumb and middle finger. “Shit,” he swore to nobody in particular.
“I’m sorry, Bassett,” Valentin said dejectedly. “I’ve made things difficult between you and Darri.”
“He’ll get over it. Darri just likes to make a fuss so everyone knows he’s displeased.” He wrung his hands together before bringing a smile back to his face. “I’ll be sure to talk to him later. Anyways, I need you to do a favor for me.”
“Sure, what do you need me to do?” Valentin asked, more than willing to lessen Bassett’s burdens in some way.
“I need you to find someplace to sit down and stay there until I get you.” He pointed to the wall near the doorway of the longhouse. “Somewhere over there would be ideal.”
“Oh, okay. Is there something that I need to be doing over there?”
“No, just sit there and don’t let anyone talk to you if you can avoid it,” Bassett instructed with as serious a face as Valentin had seen on the boy. “I need to take care of something and if I sent you back to Darri and the others after our confrontation just now they would just hound you with questions about me.”
“What is it that you need to do, Bassett?” Valentin asked curiously. “Is it something I can help with?”
“Not you too, Valentin,” Bassett sighed discontentedly. He put his hand on Valentin’s shoulder and leaned close to him. “This is important for our pact so please just do as I ask without asking why. Is that okay?”
“Alright, Bassett,” Valentin replied with a mopey tone. “I’ll go sit over there.”
Valentin got two amicable slaps on the shoulder. “Thanks, Valentin. I’ll try to make things quick so don’t go anywhere.”
Bassett had quickly made himself scarce. He pulled a cloak over his head and stepped out into the elements.
While Valentin was in Morna’s room, a storm had come in and the rain poured heavily outside. The endless droplets of rain drummed an off-beat tune on the roof of the longhouse and long trickles of water from small holes drenched the ground and any that were unfortunate enough to set up beneath it. People wishing to avoid the cold and damp that seeped through the wall pushed ever closer to the insulated center of the longhouse. This conveniently left much of the space next to the wall vacated for Valentin to find a place to sit.
The only people that remained near the wall near the boy appeared dirtied and destitute. Families held each other closely and drunken adults in solitude wrapped themselves tightly in their cloaks. Valentin attempted to bury his face in his own cloak similarly to those around him. However, he was quickly reminded that he had traded in his nice furs for this earthy disguise. Luckily, the tunic seemed to have been made of a wool that, while abrasive, offered him more warmth than the thin linens he would have received in the south.
It seemed that none of them cared enough to regard the boy in any meaningful way as he sat against the wall. Most were too preoccupied with their own burdens to spare him much thought. He stared at the ceiling and prepared to sit in solitude for an unknown amount of time.
Fires for cooking and warmth intensified with the ongoing storm and billowing smoke suffocated the massive space. Valentin covered his mouth with his sleeve and waited for it to escape from the roof slits. He supposed that it wasn’t so bad now that the entire area was blanketed in smoke and made it difficult for anyone to spot him. Though, as food began to meet fire, he couldn’t help but feel his mouth water.
One looming figure entered the longhouse, dripping with water. A longsword glistened from the rain and glinted sinisterly in Valentin’s direction. The area around the entryway went silent. The guards that stood at the entrance watched the new entrant with distain and distrust, but did not bar the figure from entering.
While Valentin tried to discern any features from the cloaked figure, the silhouette disappeared into the smoke and Valentin suddenly felt quite nervous by an unnatural paranoia. The footprints, the warnings. His worst inclinations were coming to fruition.
“They couldn’t be,” he murmured to himself.
He shifted further from the doorway in uncertainty. Not far enough, further. It wasn’t enough distance away, he had to move further. He couldn’t be caught here all alone and have this all be for nothing, he had to just get a little further away. But he was prevented from continuing backwards when he bumped into the body of one of the people around him.
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“What the fuck was that for?” A man that reeked of ale grumbled at the scurrying boy.
“Oh, I’m sorry. It’s just so smoky that I didn’t notice you.” Valentin reluctantly moved a little closer to the door.
A hand gripped around the boy’s wrist. “Hang on. You spilled my drink,” the man accosted Valentin loudly. He flipped his mug over to show that it was emptied. “You owe me a new one.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Valentin responded in a panic, trying to train his eyes back on the doorway.
His arm was pulled on again, forcing him to focus on the situation he now found himself. Now that Valentin had a brief moment to breathe, he didn’t see any indication that there was a puddle of ale near the man. His father had warned him about those that looked to take advantage of those that seemed easy marks.
“Get me a new ale,” the man demanded. “Don’t make me whip you, boy.”
Valentin clicked his tongue. His eyes narrowed and his voice had lost the meekness it had just a moment ago. He didn’t have time for this drunkard. His life was in the balance.
“Sir, I think you may just be confused. I don’t see any spilled drink near you. Are you sure you hadn’t just finished it already and forgotten?”
“Are you mocking me, boy? Do you intend to reprimand me while pretending to be a Chief?” The man stood up. He wasn’t large or imposing but he was still an adult and Valentin was at a size disadvantage.
“I am not,” Valentin denied with a wave of his hand. “Your legs seem to work. Get your own.”
Valentin started to briskly walk away from the man deeper and went deeper into the center of the longhouse. He had long since lost track of the figure, but had no interest in tracing their steps. It was risky to potentially move closer to the figure that entered, but he had to get away from the drunkard and avoid causing commotion without any allies around.
“Hey! Get back here you little shit!” A raspy voice called out from behind him.
Staggering footsteps followed Valentin as he weaved his way through the crowd of the people cooking their meals and enjoying themselves. Some shot him with side eyes and looks of unfamiliarity but Valentin had to focus on spotting a potential ally. Heightened voices of annoyance behind him told him that the man was stomping unceremoniously through the crowd and shouting towards the boy in front of him.
He spotted a group of strong looking people nearby and specifically the bald head of one man. Hoping that it was the right person, Valentin strode towards the group with the other man in tow still screaming into his back.
“Gervin.”
The hairy faced man looked over his shoulder with a look of surprise just when the drunkard caught up to Valentin and grabbed him around the scuff of his neck.
“Now I’ve got you,” sneered the man. “What do you think you’re doing ignoring me like that?”
“What’s going on here?” Gervin asked from his seat. The rest of the group looked at the confrontation with a gaze of entertainment. This sudden development must have been more interesting than whatever had been occurring. Valentin spied Robert’s face amongst the group. The young warrior watched Valentin warily.
“This boy spilled my drink and refuses to replace it. The shit also accused me of lying about it,” the drunkard said with more indignation than he was ever owed in his life. His toothless mouth sprayed spittle towards Gervin and the rest.
“The drunkard is making up stories,” Valentin argued as he writhed around in the drunk’s grasp.
“Why you little-”
“Enough,” interjected Gervin.
“You stay out of this,” the man snapped back, the alcohol serving to dull his sense of self preservation.
One of Gervin’s groupmates chuckled. Another grinned widely. A third softly whispered, “uh oh.” Gervin stood up to look down at the drunkard who suddenly looked exceedingly nervous. His grip on Valentin’s neck loosened and the boy shrugged free of the grasp.
“Did you just tell me what to fucking do, vagrant?” Gervin barked, small amounts of favor slipped into his throat and expelled a soundwave that ruffled Valentin’s clothes and forced the drunk to let go. Gervin leaned forward until his face was directly across from the man’s. “I sincerely hope that I’m mistaken.”
“I-I-I uh,” the man stammered hopelessly, looking for the words to come out of his mouth. “I’m sorry sir.”
“So you did say it.” Gervin placed a hand on the man. “If you know what’s good for you, you’d do well to get out of my sight.”
The man scurried away from the confrontation, not before he shot Valentin an aggravated look. Valentin let out a deep sigh of relief that the issue was resolved.
“Don’t run to me to clean up your messes,” Gervin snarled in annoyance. “I only did this because Morna would be pissed if I watched something happen to you. Learn how to fight those nobodies off by yourself.”
“But Gervin,” Valentin implored in a low voice that blended in with the sounds of the longhouse. “Someone entered the longhouse that made everyone go quiet. They were armed. I’m worried that it might be the ones that are after me.
Gervin raised his eyebrows when Valentin mentioned this. “If that’s the case, then Morna is already taking care of it.” The burly man began to contemplate intently on what he should do next.
“In case that she doesn’t know, Robert,” Gervin pointed at the junior warrior. “Go find Morna and tell her that some unknowns are snooping around.”
“Why do I have to do it?” Robert spat petulantly, eyeing Valentin aggressively.
“Two reasons,” Gervin explained, holding up his sausage-like fingers. “Firstly, I am stronger than you. Secondly, I am older than you. I can prove the second just with my appearance. Do you want me to prove the first in front of everyone?”
Robert scowled bitterly before slithering off of his cushion and away from the group. An older warrior and a younger man at the circle laughed at the retreating warrior, adding the minimum amount of humiliation owed to one that backs down without a fight.
“What to do with you?” Gervin asked to himself while he looked at Valentin.
“Come now, Gervin. Let the lad join us,” an older man in the group spoke up. “You have to admit that he offered some good entertainment bringing that fool over here.”
“It was entertaining for you because you got to relax and watch.” Gervin turned to snap at the older warrior before he peeked back over his shoulder to see Valentin nervously standing behind him. The boy was currently thinking about where he should go next to avoid worrying Bassett.
Gervin shook his head and grumbled to himself. “Fine, Valentin, come take a seat. You can take Robert’s cushion.”
Valentin sat in the unoccupied spot between Gervin and the younger man. There were five other people in the group and they all watched the newcomer join them with mild interest. All of them were handsomely dressed in furs and by comparison, Valentin’s dirtied tunic felt out of place in a much different way. He felt self-conscious by his appearance for the first time since he left Roucotte.
“I’m surprised, Gervin,” the man next to Valentin teased. “I thought you were going to give that fool a good beating and you’re helping out this urchin kid. You haven’t gone soft on us, have you?”
“You know that Ferron tells us not to injure any of Lutant’s locals. Though if you had felt like it, you could have taught your fellow tribesman a lesson. Though with your twiggy arms, I’m not sure if he would even feel it,” Gervin retorted and the rest of the group chuckled.
The villager’s face went red. “I’ll go drag that bastard back and I’ll show you all how much damage I can do! Just because I’m not an oaf like you doesn’t mean I don’t have any power of my own!”
“Calm down, Anwyl,” a woman on the other side of Gervin chided. She had a threaded needle and had been diligently sewing fabric together. “Beating some drunkard isn’t going to impress us. Go toe to toe with a member of the Armée and then we will hire a troubadour to make a ballad about you.”
“Yeah, Anwyl,” the older man joined in. “I’ll even let you take a swing at me if you want.”
“And I can parade around cheering about how I pummeled an elder. I’m sure that song will be the most popular in all the realms. Worse yet if I lose,” Anwyl looked at the boy next to him. “So what’s the deal with the boy, Gervin? You bring your bastard with you this time?”
The woman next to Gervin flashed an angry scowl towards the warrior and pointed her needle in an accusatory manner at him as the rest shared a laugh at the couple’s expense. Valentin and Gervin exchanged a look of uncertainty. Valentin was unsure how good of a tale spinner the warrior was.
Gervin leaned in to speak softer and the rest leaned in to ensure they could hear him. “He’s some runaway noble that Morna’s keeping an eye on. We’re trying to see if we can spin some sort of compensation from his clan to send him back. Keep this between us, Morna’s trying to make it a secret so that we don’t have to split the reward with more people.”
The group looked at the boy dubiously. Gervin’s story would have been an easy sell if he hadn’t surrendered his clothes what felt like moments ago. This outfit had already caused numerous issues for him already. Valentin doubted that the drunk would have been so aggressive if he thought he was dealing with an important child.
“Does Deggan Hubert know or is Morna keeping this fully to herself?” The older man whispered and glanced at the boy.
“The Deggan does not know,” Gervin confirmed with a grave nod. “He’ll take most of the payment himself and not do anything. If things go as they are supposed to, he won’t find out.”
“Harsh words for your commander, Gervin. You make me worry about your deg’s loyalty,” the old man’s face went serious. ”I don’t need your political struggles at my side when we go into battle.”
“It’s just pocket money, Kern, not a mutiny,” Gervin assured. “Hubert is a strong leader in battle and there is no person I trust more to see me through the day alive. It’s everything else that’s the problem.”
The woman next to Gervin stopped her work and placed an uncertain hand on the man’s arm. “So it’s not your kid then?”
“By the Mother, Min, how do the boy and I even look alike? Look at him, he’s clearly some Southern brat. You don’t have to worry about things like that.” Gervin looked exasperated with all the questions. “Can we play just some fucking dice or something?”