Chapter 27
Gerald sat in his study, waiting for his anticipated visitor. He couldn't help but feel a bit excited. When he'd returned to the Viscounty, he'd spent a some sleepless nights thinking about the plague of his territory, the bandits. Even when he'd managed to sleep, he would dream of wiping them out and rebuilding the castle that had fallen on hard times. Ard was what his ancestors left him. It was what his father left him. He had to see it safe and thriving again. He wanted to climb the towers of the keep and oversee the flourishing homes of his subjects.
There was a knock on the door.
"Come in."
"My lord," Harrid stepped in, "Sir Robard has arrived with guests."
"Let them in," Gerald said with a smile. He'd chosen to meet the Red Rain band's captain in his study instead of the Lord's hall. He believed it would be better to appeal to the mercenary's feelings of enmity towards Robben Luwin instead of acting high and mighty.
Robard entered the study first. Following him were two men in red armor. "My lord," Robard saluted first.
"Edgar greets the Viscount," the first of the two men who followed Robard said, bowing along with the second. "I'm the captain of the Red Rain band, and this is my lieutenant, Isaac," he pointed at the younger man beside him.
Gerald wore his brightest smile. "Welcome to my keep, Edgar." He observed the mercenary captain. Edgar, who was as old as Robard, looked much younger than his age would suggest. He had a cleanly shaven chin and a young heroic face that would drive maidens mad. Gerald wanted to chuckle. The mercenary looked more knightly than most knights. "Take a seat."
The three men quickly sat down. "When I heard that the Viscount needed the Red Rain's services, I couldn't wait to accept the invitation and visit your beautiful keep."
"You are very kind," Gerald said. "But this matter isn't as simple as you believe it to be."
"Oh?" Edgar cocked his head. "Isn't it now? I would like to hear what it's about then."
"It's about your conflict with the Silver crew," Gerald continued. "I have heard that there is a lot of bad blood between you."
Edgar dropped his head with a smirk and nodded his head as if he'd seen through Gerald's words. "Well," he said. "It's more of an old rivalry, your lordship. Robben Luwin took what wasn't his, and we weren't happy about it. I wouldn't call what we have on our hands conflict. Only a few skirmishes have happened so far. We know to keep away from each other's blade."
"Does that mean that you wouldn't like to see your 'rivals' removed?" Gerald said.
Edgar's smirk turned into a wide smile. "Now, that would depend on how it is supposed to happen."
"I understand that you are outnumbered when compared to the Silver crew," Gerald said, laying his hands on the table. He was finally getting there. "The Silver crew, however, doesn't outnumber my men."
"They do outclass your lordship's men, though," Edgar added. "Robben Luwin has more than 100 Warriors under his command."
"True," Gerald nodded. Luwin had gathered Warriors from disbanding mercenary bands and used them to bolster his ranks. Paying them would have been a problem had he still been a mercenary. But banditry, when done right, was more lucrative than selling the sword, though Gerald doubted that was the only motivation for those Warriors. "That's why I have invited you here."
"You want my men to bleed for yours?" Edgar chuckled, obviously in ridicule. "Why would I send my men to the grinder for your lordship? I don't remember my band owing the Viscounty any life debts."
Gerald inhaled ruggedly. He had assumed too much, it seemed. Edgar wasn't as excited as he'd expected him to be about erasing his rival. Perhaps he didn't perceive Robben Luwin as a threat, contrary to what Gerald believed. Were their little skirmishes only an exchange of blows to maintain face? Regardless, Gerald had to find a way to persuade him. "Perhaps you are not in open conflict with the Silver crew now, but you might be in the years to come. Removing a possible enemy should be great motivator for your band. Have you ever thought what would have happened if Robben Luwin had decided to go all out and attacked your band on your way back to Ard?"
"Robben Luwin never attacked my crew because he isn't intent on ruining himself," Edgar sneered. "We mercenaries are petty men. If we see ourselves falling, we take as many enemies as we can with us. We hold grudges, even in our dying moments. Luwin never attacked us because he knew that we would have taken at least half his crew with us, if not more. Then he would be naked for the wolves to devour after finishing us."
"He will get stronger eventually," Gerald gritted his teeth. It seemed that the mercenary was intent on getting control of this negotiation. He didn't ask to leave, which meant that he wasn't against attacking the Silver crew, but he wanted more benefits. "When he does, he won't need to fear the wolves. He will tear you apart without a moment's hesitation."
"He will have torn apart your lands first," Edgar retorted. "Give me a better reason to fight him instead of letting you do it for me, your lordship."
"Half the gold he has," Gerald said through his teeth. "You know very well how much wealth he's hoarding." A bandit that controlled the lands connecting the basin and the rest of the Kingdom would naturally be the richest of his kind.
Edgar guffawed. When his laughter finally stopped, he said, "That's a given, your lordship. We will fight in that battle with our lives on the line. We are entitled to half that plunder if we are victorious."
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Gerald was speechless. He shot a sharp stare at the mercenary, which the latter returned leisurely without a care. "Then what would motivate you to fight Robben Luwin, aside from all that was mentioned?"
"We are mercenaries, your lordship," Edgar stressed his words. "We don't fight for promises. What if we don't win the battle? Will the lives of my men be worth nothing just like weeds? Mercenaries are paid in gold before going into battle."
"How much?"
"After our latest recruitment, there are 900 men in my band," Edgar said. "Almost each one of them has seen more blood than a hundred of your men combined. I have more Warriors than your 4000-man army. I think requesting 2000 gold coins before battle is generous on our part."
Gerald turned silent. 2000 gold wasn't a small amount considering the state of his treasury. He didn't plunder thousands of gold from the bandits to waste his gains in every corner, but when compared to removing the silver crew, the gold seemed redundant. "Very well," Gerald sighed. "You will have your gold."
"That's not all, your lordship," Edgar raised a finger, preserving the wide smile on his, now, irritating face.
"What else?"
"If we are victorious," Edgar said, resting in his chair. "We get Luwin's little fortress."
"What?!" Gerald jumped up. He had heard that the Silver crew had built their camp differently compared to other crews. Instead of a nearly useless palisade, they had built walls of mud around their camp, eventually making themselves a dirt fortress that could withstand minor assaults. Robard had told him that it was almost three times a man's height. "Are you mad?" Gerald growled. "The bandits' fortress must be torn down as soon as they are defeated. Don't even dream of taking it as your own."
"Then we have nothing more to discuss, your lordship," Edgar stood up as well. "We will fight for no less than what I have requested."
Gerald slammed his hand on the table. "Audacious and foolish. I will have no such folly here." Handing them Robben Luwin's walls? He wasn't a witless fool. He wasn't going to remove shit and replace it with manure. It was unlikely that the Red Rain band would resort to banditry like Robben Luwin. If they had wanted to rob, they would have done it long ago. But giving them the land and walls meant allowing them the power to rule over that camp for eternity. Gerald wouldn't have the right to expel them later. They would have a territory of their own within his territory. Some mercenary bands had such rights in nobles' lands, but they were given those privileges on the basis of great merit, such as fighting without gold when a noble was in danger. Some mercenaries had fought for the King 14 years ago even when the Kingdom's gold dried. There was no comparison. Edgar was here to suck every possible drop of blood from the Viscounty. He wasn't a 'benevolent' mercenary. "You may leave," Gerald said.
Edgar turned around, not even frowning, and walked out of the study.
"Harrid," Gerald yelled. "Show my guests out."
Edgar's lieutenant, Isaac, was still standing in the study after his captain left. He glanced at Gerald. His eyes were narrow and his face expressionless "Your men will be slaughtered," he said in a calm voice, almost soothing, but enraging at the same time. "The number of your men won't matter when you fight on Robben Luwin's walls, and he will never meet you in an open field of battle. He might not have a real castle, but I doubt your lordship can take down his walls faster than he will take down your men." Then he turned around and followed Edgar out.
Gerald was fuming, but he didn't retort. It was true. His men would suffer in a siege, even one as trivial as this. He didn't need much experience to know that in a siege, the party that had seen more battle in their lifetime would always be the victor. Numbers wouldn't matter, unless there was a vast difference between the two sides. He would also be the attacker, which meant more losses for him. There was no guarantee for victory. He'd hoped that the Red Rain band could help his men break through the Silver crew's defense, and once they had a foothold within the fortress, the battle would be decided by his advantage of numbers.
He slumped back into his chair, some sweat trickling down his forehead. Robard was still in the study, silent as ever. Gerald leaned on the table and rested his forehead on his hand. "How many Warriors does the Red Rain band have?"
"More than 90, my lord," Robard said. "One of the reasons of the conflict between the two mercenaries in the first place was the competition for the Warriors from the disbanded bands. They both bolstered their ranks with Warriors. Edgar struggles to pay his men, while Robben Luwin thrives on robbery. I'm afraid Edgar's Warriors not only outnumber ours but are also more experienced. The same goes for Robben Luwin's."
"How is our siege equipment?" Gerald muttered. He found that he was too naive. What made him think that he could manipulate a mercenary? A man who sold his sword and survived for this long could be nothing but shrewd to the bone. He'd overlooked that. He'd thought that he could use the enmity between the mercenaries and the bandits to his advantage. But it turned out that Edgar intended to use his need for victory to his band's advantage.
"We have some battering rams and ladders, and we can build more, my lord," Robard said. "The bandits' gates and their mud walls are thin. They could fall to our rams if our men have the time to use them. We could set our ladders and fight them on the walls while our rams break through their walls."
"And have at least half of our men slaughtered," Gerald shook his head. "I doubt we can even achieve victory like that, Robard. Our best chance was the Red Rain band. There are no other mercenaries to make use of. And even if there were, I doubt they would pit themselves against Robben Luwin regardless of the amount of gold I offer." He sighed, his breath carrying out his dismay. "What do you think, Robard. Should I give him Luwin's walls?"
"I don't think we should seek the aid of mercenaries, my lord," Robard said flatly.
"Of course you don't," Gerald chuckled. Then he rested his head on the back of the chair, thinking. "The mercenaries are vicious. Their captain realized that I couldn't do without his band in an instant, and he made use of it perfectly."
..
.
An oddly cold breeze caressed his face and awakened his senses. He sniffed and perked up from his sleepiness, his neck annoyingly sore from resting on the back of his seat. He looked out of the window and saw the darkness of the night. He'd slept. How laughable. He looked at the other side of the table and saw his head knight still sitting there. "You didn't leave?"
"You didn't give me leave, my lord," Robard said.
The study was only illuminated by the weak rays of the moon. It seemed that no one had even come to light the lamps. Perhaps they had and Robard had kept them out. "Robard," Gerald muttered.
"Yes, my lord?"
"Find Edgar," Gerald said, rubbing his sore neck. "Tell him that I accept his proposal, but his men will have to be the vanguard of the assault. If he doesn't accept, then I reject his proposal. And my rejection in that case is final."
"My lord, I thought that you . . ." Robard grew silent.
"Just do what I've told you, Robard," Gerald said. "Unless you want the army you are now commanding to degrade into a remnant of what it is now. We can't go to that battle without the Red Rain band."
"Yes, my lord," Robard stood up and saluted then left.
Besides, I can be vicious too, Gerald thought to himself.
Later that night, Robard returned with news. Edgar had agreed. But his mercenaries would need a month to rest after their continuous battles in the south. Gerald didn't mind. A month wasn't too long, and it was also about enough time to prepare for the assault on Luwin's fortress.