Chapter 23

East of Ard, several dozen farmers had built a small hamlet. The most notable building there was a mill that was built on the hamlet's outskirts. The hamlet would be particularly lively during harvests, because the surrounding farmsteads would bring their grain to be grinded at the mill. But now it was quite desolate. The harvest was yet to come. The miller was probably busy with other work at a harvestless time like this.

Harrid and Yanna were leaning against the wall of the mill after dusk. They had paid one of the farmers who were leaving Ard a few copper coins to take them on his cart. The farmer had dropped them off near the hamlet and moved on.

The hamlet was one of the closest to Ard, and the walls of the castle had been visible to Harrid and Yanna during the day.

Now after nightfall, Some torches were lit on the walls. The pair just had to wait for Madame Grina's troop to come out of the castle.

The wait got boring and the night soon became darker. "Will we even be able to see them?" Harrid muttered.

"Yes, a hundred men won't be able to move in the darkness without light," Yanna said. "We will see their torches."

"Ahh," Harrid nodded. "True."

At midnight, the pair finally saw a few torches coming out of the Ard's gates. The few soon became dozens and marched towards the east. The procession resembled a fiery python that crept towards the east.

"So many of them," Harrid said as he eyed Madame Grina's 100 men. "How could they go out of the castle unnoticed?"

"They weren't unnoticed, Harrid," Yanna said. "I'm sure all the night's watch on the eastern wall knew about them."

"We have to tell the Viscount about this," Harrid hissed.

"We will," Yanna said.

When the procession of armed men passed near the hamlet, the pair saw two silhouettes riding horses at the front. Behind them, around 100 men walked on foot, carrying torches. Harrid and Yanna were crouching near the mill as the procession passed by.

Yanna perked up and said, "let's follow them."

"They're going deeper into the wilderness," Harrid grumbled.

"You told me that the Viscount wiped out all the bandits in the east," she argued. Then she pointed at the moving procession. "They will drive away any wild animals. We don't have to worry about anything. They will never see us while we're in the dark and they are in the light."

"Fine," Harrid sighed. "Let's follow. I didn't think they would be going even farther than this."

The pair soon scurried after the bright procession of men. Luckily, it was night and the men moved slowly, which made it possible for the two of them to keep up the pace.

After a long time, it was Yanna that complained first. "How far are they planning to go?" she grumbled. "My feet hurt."

Harrid beside her was checking the horizon from time to time then he suddenly perked up. "Look," he said, pointing ahead of the procession.

"Are those houses?" Yanna asked.

"I'm not sure."

It was then that the procession slowed down to a stop. It seemed that the meeting would be near the abandoned buildings Harrid had spotted. After moving a bit closer, the pair realized that what they had spotted was an abandoned farmstead. Its buildings were falling apart and its fields were barren. Madame Grina's men grouped up in the farmstead and seemed to be waiting for someone.

Harrid and Yanna circled around and found a narrow stream surrounded by thick vegetation. They chose that spot to hide and watch the farmstead.

Not long after their arrival, Harrid spotted riders approaching from the direction of Ard. "Someone is coming. "

Yanna pushed down some of the shrubs blocking her face and looked up. "They are coming from Ard as well?" she said, puzzled. "Why are they meeting out of the castle then?"

"I don't know, but we must find out who it is," Harrid said.

There were three riders who stopped at the farmstead. They dismounted and walked towards one of the ruined houses. Two of the dismounted riders dispersed while the third seemed to be greeting Madame Grina who was standing in front of the house.

When the man greeted Madame Grina, his shaded face was uncovered by the light of the torches.

"He's short," Yanna whispered, while Harrid by her side was silently agape.

"It's him?" Harrid said, unbelieving.

"Who?" Yanna asked.

"That's the Viscount's minister," Harrid said. "The one that everyone hates."

Yanna stared at the short man as hard as she could for a moment then seemed to realize something. "Yes, I know him," she said. "I saw him with the Viscount before. He called him Renard?"

"Yes, that's him," Harrid nodded furiously. "The Viscount won't be happy about this."

Yanna nodded.

"Should we return now?" Harrid eyed her.

"No," she shook her head. "If we return now, the riders might come across us on their way back. We have to follow Madame Grina's men back just like we came. Then we will stay near the mill until the morning. "

This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

"Wait," Harrid said hurriedly. "They're going somewhere."

Yanna peeked out of the vegetation again and looked where Harrid pointed.

They both watched as Madame Grina, the man who rode with her when she led the procession, and Renard headed away from the men who crowded around the house. They seemed to be going to the other side of the farmstead.

"Come," Harrid said, pulling Yanna by the hand and leading her through the overgrown grass. "Maybe we can hear them."

"You are awfully excited," Yanna quipped.

Harrid stopped and scratched his head bashfully. "Well, they won't have any guards around."

Yanna smiled knowingly and urged him on. "You're right. We should go listen," she said, pushing him forward.

Harrid led her and circled around the farmstead. They stayed as far from the buildings as they could, because the three people they were supposed to follow were already out of sight. If the two of them were somehow spotted, they'd be dead without a doubt.

Soon, they came to the other end of the farmstead and found the trio entering what seemed to be a stable. Harrid and Yanna waited for a while then they nodded to each other and crept towards the ragged building.

Harrid crawled ahead of Yanna. The closer he got to the stable, the faster his heart would beat. Along the way, he always felt like someone would find them. He knew that if they were caught, nobody would be able to find a trace of them, not even the Viscount. Their corpses would disappear forever after they were disposed of.

It always seemed as if he was fearful, but he never really was. It was because of her. He glanced back as he crawled farther ahead. Her soft hair was smeared on her face as she tried to catch up with him. Her eyes were shining with intelligence just like he always knew them. Did she know? He wondered. Did she know that he wouldn't hesitate to die for her?

It didn't matter. He would become stronger. He couldn't leave her life up to fate. If his time in the streets had taught him anything, it was that fate was never kind. Only a fool would hope it was. So he would protect the only precious person he had. He would slap fate on the face when it came for her.

Harm won't touch you while I'm near, he gazed back at her.

She saw his gaze and tilted her head questioningly. He smiled at her then looked ahead and continued crawling.

They soon reached the stable. Harrid led Yanna to the back of the stable. They had to be as far as possible from the doors. The rotten wood of the stable provided enough openings for them hear the discussion going on inside anyway.

"What benefit would I gain by supporting you?" Renard's voice came from inside.

"Can you not see for yourself?" A woman's voice answered him.

"Yes, but—"

"No need to hesitate," the woman continued. Harrid had already guessed that she must be Madame Grina. "If my brother rules Ard in the future, then the Duke's trade route is a simple matter."

Renard hummed for a moment then said, "a reasonable offer indeed."

"I have men in Ard. You saw it yourself. So many have come out here through the gates, and no one stopped us. Even you managed to leave those gates without questions because I willed it. All I ask is your aid when I need it."

"Then you will have it," Renard said. "Anyone who is prepared to serve the Duke is worthy of his aid."

"Not serve," Grina stressed her words. "We will exchange aid. Ard will be ours eventually, and you will get your trade route."

Renard guffawed. "But are we equal, Lady Grina? What you seek is for those who stand equal. Don't tell me that you believe that you're the Duke's equal."

"In wealth? No," she said, her voice icy. "In power? No. But here in Ard, we are at least equal. You can accept us as allies or you can refuse. Don't try to play us for fools."

There was a lengthy silence from Renard before he sighed. "I suppose the Duke wouldn't mind having another friend in Ard. I hope that you're the sort of friend who keeps their promises."

"I am," Grina replied instantly. "Only a fool would deceive Duke Malfi. When we rule Ard, we won't be looking for enemies. We will be looking for allies."

"It is too early to talk about your rule," Renard chortled. "You haven't fooled me with this little act you have prepared in my honor. Your 100 men are nothing compared to the Viscount's army. He has proven himself by exterminating the bandits in the east. Nobody doubts him anymore. If anything, everyone has great expectations in him." Renard's voice seemed to get lighter and lighter as he spoke until it almost turned into a soothing hiss at his following words. "Everyone and everything is against you. You have no friend but us. So don't talk about ruling Ard when it is unlikely for you to rule it."

Grina responded with a hearty laugh. "That is for us to worry about, your Excellency," she said. "You hardly know anything about Ard or the powers that wrestle in it. And the new Viscount is similarly ignorant."

"I suppose time will tell then," Renard said with a sigh.

"It certainly will," Madame Grina said. "It's been a pleasure, your Excellency."

"The pleasure is all mine," Renard said. "I will be taking my leave then."

"My men will escort you back," Madame Grina said graciously.

It didn't take long for Harrid to hear the doors of the stable creaking. There were a few moments of silence before a voice spoke.

It was the voice of a young man. Even the cautious Harrid could tell that the owner of the voice was more anxious than he was. "Sister," the young man said. "This is without the boundaries of everything we've done before. Betraying the family to our enemies? This is . . ."

Madame Grina broke into a chuckle. A desperate one, Harrid could tell from the sound of it. "Do you know how difficult this has been, brother?" she said. "Of course you don't. You didn't have to do any of the hard work. I have sacrificed too much for this, for you. If I succeed, it will be you becoming a Viscount."

"Is it that important?"

"Haha. You are a fool," she yelled. "Only a true fool would doubt the importance of ruling the family. What I want for us is true power, Estor. Unless you always want to be mediocre."

"This hunt for the Viscounty has led you too far, sister," the young man said. "You weren't like this before the war."

"I was a child before the war," she replied with a chuckle. "There is no comparison. I saw the truth later on."

"But you changed during the years of the war," the young man said. "I saw it. I felt it, Grina. You stayed in your chamber for months, then you changed. You became someone else."

"You will never understand," she muttered. "This is my wish, my hope in life. I want to have dignity."

"You do have dignity," the young man said as if trying to comfort her.

"Are you certain, brother?" she asked faintly. "Are you certain that I do?"

"Yes."

"Then you are ignorant like most people are," she chuckled helplessly. "You always asked me why I stayed for months in my chamber during the fifth year of the war. You shall have your answer, brother. When the King was occupied with the battles in the wild plains, Duke Malfi attacked the basin. The Viscount wasn't strong enough to stop him. The Duke almost consumed the Viscounty in one year. We didn't have many allies to depend on back then, but we had one."

"Count Westwell," the young man said.

"Yes. Him," Madame Grina said. "The Count's oldest son came ahead of his father's army to discuss the defense of Ard with the Viscount. His name was Alaric. He's the Count now. On the third day of his arrival, do you know what he did when he saw me?"

There was silence in response.

"He smiled," Madame Grina continued. "Then he dragged me into his chamber. I resisted him and told him who I was. He didn't care. He slapped me that day, for not complying. My cheek ached for many nights. But that wasn't why I stayed in my chamber." She turned silent and seemed to be panting and holding something in. "I stayed in my chamber because I was afraid of bearing a child." She was silent again, taking a deep breath. "In the end, I didn't. But I bore my humiliation for months. I learned that dignity came from power, brother. Do you think he would have dared to do what he did if I were the Viscount's daughter or sister?"

"I didn't know."

"The answer is 'no he wouldn't have'" she continued. "If you become Viscount in the future. Nobody would humiliate us ever again. Even a King wouldn't dare humiliate his vassals. We would have respect, Estor. We would have our dignity."

"I'm sorry," the young man said.

"Don't be sorry, my brother," she laughed. "Be strong. We have to take our cousin's seat. Territories and Kingdoms have changed hands many times in the past. Strength rules over everyone. We must be strong if we want to be the new hand that grabs power."