Lothar sat in his office in The Rose. He had a headache.

The money side of things was getting complicated. The loot from the barrow had to be converted into coins and shared out. It came to £20, give or take. £1 to each merc who went to the barrow left £13 for his own funds. When his squad arrived back in Avolo, he would have to examine the items they’d found and do the same.

Still, £13 income was transformational:

Finances

Income

Mission #8

£13

Wade enterprises

1s 1p

Profits from The Rose

3s

Expenses

Wages

10s 6p

Repay loans

£1

Profit

£11 13s 7p

Total

£12 10s 10p

‘Mister Stiff! Mister Stiff!’

Eden, Wade’s boy, burst into the room.

‘What are you thinking, boy? You knock before you enter.’

‘Me Dad sent me. Said I should get you immediately. There’s trouble downstairs.’

Trouble that Wade couldn’t handle? Lothar buckled his sword to his belt, and followed the boy to the lounge.

It seemed everyone was waiting for him. Mila and Suzie stood near the bar looking nervous. Wade put a hand on his son’s head when Eden rejoined him. Mags looked anxiously over at Murder, who was sprawled on the floor of the lounge. He was unconscious, his face beaten to a pulp.

Ten individuals had entered Lothar’s inn. He recognised two of them. Usa and Izil, the two mercs who he’d tried to recruit in The Anchor when he’d first arrived in Avolo. Their presence told him The Golden Blades had come to The Rose, and he had better be careful if he didn’t want anyone else to come to harm.

‘How can I help?’

One of their number looked him in the eye, a smile appearing on his face. There was nothing that made him immediately stand out. He was medium build, with straight brown hair. His clothes, weapons, and accessories were no more extravagant than the other mercenaries. But he had a confidence, and an intelligence, that made him stand out. ‘You must be Lothar. Known as Stiff. I’d heard the news that The Rose had a new owner. You’ve done the place up nice.’

‘Thank you. I’m keen to keep it that way,’ Lothar said, eyeing Murder laid out on the floor. He returned his gaze to the speaker, trying to work him out. ‘Am I speaking with Sal, leader of The Blades?’

‘You are. The reasonable brother, which is good news for you. I didn’t come here to undo your hard work, or rough up your employees. But your doorman didn’t want to let us in.’

Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

‘We have a no weapons policy,’ Lothar said, taking in the many weapons that had been carried inside The Rose. ‘He’s simple. Wouldn’t have understood who you were. Just doing what I asked him.’

‘Then it’s your fault, either for employing him, or not training him properly.’

‘Aye. It’s my fault.’

‘I appreciate a man who can admit when he’s wrong. That’s the kind of man I can do business with. I’ve been very busy in recent months, founding a city of my own. Upriver.’

‘Is that right?’

‘Yes. But I don’t want people here in Avolo to think The Golden Blades have disappeared. That they can be replaced.’

‘I’m sure no one thinks that.’

‘I’ve heard tell that you’ve got your own little crew going.’

‘Yes.’

‘Where are they? Surely this isn’t it?’

‘No. They’re out on a job.’

‘A job, eh? What kind of a job?’

‘Destroy Warg Den,’ Lothar answered quickly. He didn’t want Sal and The Blades knowing about the barrow.

‘Sounds dangerous. How much are you getting for that?’

‘We’re getting two pounds.’

‘Two pounds for risking the lives of your crew?’ Sal looked about his mercs with astonishment, and they grinned at him. ‘And you can still turn a profit? Well. I was told not to worry about The Rotten Apples. That they were in a different league to us. Seems it was good advice.’

‘Absolutely,’ Lothar said. ‘We just do the smaller, trickier jobs.’

‘The Rose, though. Seems to me like this place could do with the protection of The Golden Blades. Imagine if, after all your work, some hoodlums burned it to the ground.’

‘I see,’ Lothar said. ‘Very kind of you. How much does that service cost?’

‘Only four shillings a week.’

‘Ah.’

‘A problem?’

‘The Rose only makes me three shillings a week.’

‘Three shillings? That’s all? Thing is, Lothar, known as Stiff. The Golden Blades don’t come cheap, like your lot. Here’s what you should do. Find a way to increase your profits. Because that four shillings a week price is the best we can do. Have I made myself clear?’ Sal’s eyes drifted over Lothar’s people. ‘I could always have my boys take your waitresses outside and explain everything to them.’

‘No, that won’t be necessary. I get it.’

‘Good. Because I’m a busy man, Lothar. This is a one off visit for me. If there are any problems with our arrangement, I will delegate the matter to my brother, Rylan. He’s not as understanding as me, is he boys?’

‘Rylan’s a stone cold killer,’ said one of Sal’s mercs.

‘I don’t foresee any problems,’ Lothar said.

Lothar’s crew returned to The Rose in good spirits. He handed out their rewards, and took in the items they had found. They were his to inspect and distribute. His mercenary contracts stipulated that any object of value recovered on a mission was his, to be kept or handed out as he saw fit. He’d learned the hard way that allowing mercs to fight over such spoils ended in broken relationships and feuds.

He decided to keep the armour. The map, also. It showed four locations, each with a different coloured sword depicted. They had discovered the green barrow. The next location along the line which stretched northwest was a hill fort, with a red sword. It seemed obvious to Lothar that this was Redblade’s camp. The brigand had named himself after the sword he had discovered, and the weapon and treasure had allowed him to recruit his thugs and set himself up as a warlord, beyond the borders of the settled lands.

As distracting as all of this was, he couldn’t help stewing over Sal and The Golden Blades. Just as things had begun to swing in his favour, they had arrived to turn it all to ash. He fantasised about destroying them. But his little crew were no match for their hardened warriors. He’d have to pay The Blades their protection money, which meant The Rose had been turned from a small source of profit to a financial drain. His mind turned to various solutions to his predicament, but any path he envisaged ended in the same place. He’d have to pay Sal the money he wanted, until he came upon some means of escape.

There was a knock on his office door. Before he could respond, Mila entered.

‘I wanted to talk to you, Stiff.’ She took the seat on the other side of his desk. ‘About the other night.’

‘I’m sorry about what happened. I’ll find a way through it.’

‘I’m sure you will,’ Mila shrugged, more blasé than he had expected. ‘I’ve thought of a way to make some money for The Rose. I can take customers to my room. You would get a fair cut of the money.’

This wasn’t the topic Lothar had been expecting. But I shouldn’t be so surprised. It wasn’t the kind of thing Lothar had envisaged for his pet project. Prostitution might put off clientele as much as attract others. There was Wade’s boy to think about, and other considerations. That said, his passion for The Rose had been dulled. And it might make the place more profitable.

‘I don’t know, Mila,’ he admitted.

She stood. ‘Understandable. Have a think about it and let me know.’

As soon as the door was closed, it was barged open again.

‘Gods!’ Lothar exclaimed.

‘Sorry, Stiff,’ said Jaelin, not sounding particularly sorry. ‘But Steben has travelled here, and it’s urgent.’

A second man entered the office with The Explorer. Lothar racked his brain for a few moments, until the name registered. ‘Steben, mayor of Eisenberg?’

‘Aye, that’s right. Terrible news. Redblade came to Eisenberg with nearly his whole force. No way we could stop him.’

‘I told you they needed our help,’ Jaelin added, rather unnecessarily.

‘Redblade told us the town is now his. Needs our mine, he said, to stave off the goblins. And the townsfolk are to become his workers. Slaves, more like. He’ll have us work night and day to get him the iron for his army. We need your help, Stiff.’