39 - The Habits of Highly Effective Killing Machines

Outskirts of Helfra, 28 Days After the Festival

Two more scouts died for failing to find a way into Helfra. Another two bit it when they devised boneheaded ideas to get into the city. Sir Grey thought pretending to be a merchant was cowardly. An emissary to bolster Traldalorian and Helfran relations was not an option because orcs and humans would have a better chance at signing a peace treaty, and there weren't enough men to storm the city.

"Maybe we just ask to be let in?" another rider said. "I mean, it's pretty dark outside. Travelers come in all the time at night looking for lodging, I suppose."

Sir Grey didn't bother to comment. Instead, he just lopped the guy's head off and said, "Any other suggestions—no, wait, that one was pretty good, don't you think, Corwin?"

Corwin squirmed a little bit, and the leftover riders were glad they were no longer on the hook for brainstorming ideas.

Sir Grey glanced at his aide and said, "Oh, come now, you've always spoken your mind in the past. Is the Helfran keep on the mountain side making you shake in your boots? The tales of artifacts with glorious and wonderful powers scaring you? Most of their trinkets are parlor tricks. Sure, everyone knows Helfran flint is the quickest way to light a fire, but they cannot burn armies like a fire mage."

"It's not the Helfrans, sir," Corwin said. The truth was that he didn't know much about Helfra, other than that his kingdom and theirs were mad at each other about something. It had to do with the Battle of the Four Armies and sounded like it was a part of their past. "It's just that, supposing the king of Helfra got Lovantus's gauntlet. Then I suppose he'd be our king."

"Oh, Corwin, you once again surprise me with your wisdom. And you idiots didn't think of this when you let Lovantus sneak into the city of Helfra!" Sir Grey screamed and decapitated two more soldiers with one blow.

One of the remaining riders turned around and said, "That's it! I quit."

Sir Grey stabbed the man in the back and said, "No quitting. Come, we enter Helfra with our heads held high. We will claim our right to defend our liege's honor with whatever dastardly plan they have to relieve him of his gauntlet. But then, Corwin, you know what happens next."

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"Your Warlock friend will destroy the gauntlet."

"Don't speak of the plan in front of the men!"

"Man, sir. There is only one left."

"Me name's Jenkins," the last rider said.

"Still," Sir Grey said. "He's just a soldier. He doesn't know what it's like to be a noble. He might get the wrong impression."

"Oh, no, sir," Jenkins said. "You're just shoring up your power, sir. Nothing wrong with a little power grab, sir."

"It's not a power grab! My family already has the power. It's this silly gauntlet rule that's the problem."

"Sorry, sir. Don't cut off me head."

By some miracle, Sir Grey turned his horse towards the Helfran capital. He said to Corwin, "See, this is what I mean. People below your station just don't know what it's like."

"No, sir," Corwin said. "Can't say I ever ruled a city, much less a whole country. Me mum left me in charge once when me da was off to war, and she had to go to market. Me siblings bickered and wouldn't listen to a word I said."

"It's authority, Corwin. They listen to you because you are their superior. Take my men, for example."

"Man, sir," Jenkins said.

"They do exactly what I say when I say it, or people die."

"They die when they do what you say..." Corwin said under his breath.

"What?"

"Today is the day, nothing like today to get it done. That's what me mum always used to say," Corwin blurted.

"You're weird, Corwin. Really weird, but I suppose your mum is right. Onward!" Sir Grey bellowed and spurred his horse toward the gate.

His much-diminished entourage followed with a growing sense of unease, except for the warlock, who knows what she was thinking.

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