40
Not so Big Changes
‘Woah, wait, what? How? When?’ A strange panic had set into Ludgar, as Toulmonde tossed her coat onto the fence of the arena. She was right. Things had changed, just not in the way he was ever expecting. Did she have any children? Probably not, she never seemed the type. And being the child of a merc never tends to work out too well.
He had seen such generously proportioned women all over Savanti. It was just that he never expected them on her. It did something to him, like an old flame exploding into an inferno.
‘Happened a while ago,’ she said, now far more confident in her position. ‘There’s something in the water, I’m sure of it. It was quite a surprise to me as well. I’m not complaining, though. They make negotiations far easier.’
As far as the provinces of Artella go, Savanti is known to have the most generously proportioned women of any city; there are a few reasons for this. Some try to fatten themselves up and only exercise specific areas, with varying degrees of success. Some have taken to certain potions provided by shady individuals who claim to make it from sapier oil—one of which may have been Sethel—with zero degrees of success, while others have taken to a risky surgery involving the naturally producing gel from a fungus deep in underground caverns, with negative degrees of success.
Still, it makes for some fantastic Houses of Pleasure, provided they don’t run off to Giltani as soon as it's convenient, once they discover it’s far more lucrative.
As they continued their match, she noticed where his eyes kept falling and, in that moment, knew she had him right where she wanted him.
While he was distracted, she drove her fist into his face, pushing him back into the crowd, who reached over, grabbed his shoulders and threw him back in. He stumbled forward, and she planted her knee in his stomach. She was aiming lower, but his stumbling caused her to miss.
She never planned on getting those new additions, but they ended up being kinda worth it in the end. She may get a few unwanted glances and leers. That was fine. She didn’t care. And if a few hands wandered too close, a good grip and twist of the wrist just before the point of breaking would make sure they didn’t do it again.
‘That’s completely unfair!’ Ludgar yelled, fubbing at his cheek.
‘In war, there is no “unfair.”
‘There has to be a rule against this, right Sethel?’
Sethel looked at the mercs next to him, who appeared as answerless as anyone else, and responded with a shrug. He knew a little about everything, but rules for merc combat was a bit too much out of his expertise. As far as he was aware, merc duels had no rules.
Toulmonde brought her spear round, and readied herself for the next assault. ‘You've been with soft Evandians way too long.’
His fighting style completely changed. He became slower, as though he was doubting each attack he was about to make. He would commit to a swing or thrust, notice where it was going, and back out at the last second. It would have thrown her off, if she didn’t understand why. It’s hard to hurt things you’re attracted to.
She threw the spear, and he twisted to the side, narrowly avoiding it. She ran in, a fist coming in low and aimed at his neck.
He stepped back, just a moment too late. Her fist may have missed his neck, but it still connected with his head, catching him under the chin, sending a shock of pain up and through into his teeth.
Ludgar took hold of her arms, stopping her from moving, and they struggled there for a while.
His eyes kept glancing downwards, taking note that they were almost as big as her head.
‘Stop it! They keep… moving.’
She responded with a swift headbutt. Right in the eye, too. She felt good about that.
‘You’re all the fucking same; slaves to coin and tits. Bet you had a nice time when you ran off with all our money, drinking and fucking in every whorehouse that’d have you. You were next in line. You were supposed to lead us! Couldn’t even stay around to say goodbye to your family.’
‘Family?’ He shook his head and gave his eye a few experimental winks to see if it still worked. ‘What family? The War Wolves were never mine. It only fell to me because Kyngstone never wrote an actual will. Fucker thought he was going to live forever. Honestly, I thought he would, too. This is all he left me with, an old blade and a pointless title. You think I can run the War Wolves? Ha. I can barely handle four people who aren’t even mercs. He was the only thing holding us together. We were nothing without him.’
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That was more of an outburst than she was expecting. He always seemed so cocky and aloof to everything around him. She assumed it was a defence mechanism. Shit can’t hurt you if you never take it seriously, after all.
They stood there for a little bit, neither struggling nor giving an inch. A tense silence, as they both dealt with some serious thoughts running through their minds.
Toulmonde wondered. She wondered if she’d been just a little too selfish in all this. Kyngstone was the leader to all of them, but he was Ludgar’s uncle first. She didn’t know if he had any other family; he never talked about it. She assumed not.
They were all hurting. Maybe Ludgar was hurting more than he let on. Expecting him to carry the burden of Kyngstone’s legacy may have been a little too much.
Funny, that. In their line of work, you expect to die every day, along with everyone around you. Doesn’t stop it hitting so hard.
Then she realized how long they had been standing like that, and threw his hands aside, and jumped back.
Ludgar wiped some blood from his mouth with the back of his hand. He was losing. This would mark the second loss in a while. Like shit he would let that happen.
His hand moved back, reaching for the dark, strange hilt of the blade on his back. It followed a call; an unconscious, magnetic call that seemed to linger at the back of his mind.
‘She smirked. ‘I was wondering when you were gonna use that.’
‘I’m gonna warn you, I’ve only done this once before, and I blacked out for a while after.’
It was hard to notice. To everyone in the room, it may as well have been completely invisible, but Sethel saw it. To the attuned, magic has form. It appears as an aura and grows with its strength.
With Caspar, it came as a spark, like an azure jewel forming from the soul. Since the day they accidentally set alight an expensive inn, he believed it would grow into something powerful.
Ludgar didn’t have one, not before, anyway. But when his hand came close to the hilt of that dark blade on his back, it was there, as just a flicker. Something you could only find at the very periphery of vision. A colourless, tiny thing that held something deeper and darker than he had ever seen before.
To any regular mage, they would find it terrifying. To Sethel, it was utterly fascinating, and he was beyond eager to see more. This could very well be one discovery that would propel him back into the University.
Or even beyond.
‘That’s enough,’ Toulmonde said with a sigh, returning her blade to its scabbard.
For a moment, Ludgar just stood there, hand almost touching the hilt of the black blade, somewhat dumbfounded. ‘You don’t want to kill me?’
‘Well, no. Not now, anyway.’
‘Preposterous!’ Sethel yelled in defiance. ‘I implore you, do not end this duel just as it becomes interesting!’
‘Look,’ she continued, choosing to ignore the yelling from the strange, robed lizard, ‘I get why you took the money. The writing was on the wall. We were done for. I only found out you took it because I was gonna do the same thing. Sail off to Xandala or something. Somewhere where the sun’s always shining. I should really be more mad at myself for not doing it sooner.’
In the end, maybe that’s what freed them. It was always just about money. Their bond wasn’t nearly as strong as Kyngstone always made it out to be.
Did her anger only exist to sustain this delusion that things could have stayed the same? That everything wouldn't have fallen apart? That everyone would have stayed together?
She guessed she needed something to keep her going. Someone to blame for all of this. It’s hard to blame someone who’s dead, and Ludgar was quick enough to be a perfect scapegoat.
‘Are you still mad at me?’ he asked.
‘Yeah? Kind of. I’m not sure. I should be. I want to be. I just… I dunno.’
She didn’t have to like him, she knew that much, but she couldn’t bring herself to hate him, even if she wanted to. Were there bad times? Naturally. It was just that the good times seemed to outweigh them.
When the nights grew dark and living through to the next day felt uncertain, he was there, even as just a warm arm to lean against on those long, cold nights.
‘Are you staying anywhere in the city?’
‘Not yet. Was gonna get somewhere nice and cheap. Maybe in the slums, or something.’
‘Don’t bother. We’ve got some free rooms here,’ she sniffed the air near him, ‘as long as you take a bath first. When was the last time you washed yourself?’
‘It was a river somewhere around Asterport. So, yeah, it’s been a bit.’
She stretched and put her coat back on, making Ludgar significantly less distracted and the crowd significantly more disinterested. ‘When you’re done, I’ve got a nice bottle of Goustenwal brandy we could open.’ She pointed to the out-of-place figure standing amongst the other troops. ‘I want to know how you managed to get a wizard to be a merc.’
‘Finally. A good fucking drink in this city,’ Ludgar responded with a smile.
The guild mercs filtered their way out of the room, led by Toulmonde, leaving the two behind.
She would never have said it to his face, but, in a way, she was glad for this fight. It felt nostalgic. Plus she found it was much more fun than any fight she had recently. There was just something about her old crew that always seemed better than any other merc. Kyngstone was the best, and only hired the best, after all.
Sethel loomed behind Ludgar like a bad omen. Most are unnerved by the way he approached without sound, or the way he doesn’t bob with each step. Ludgar got used to it, the same way one gets used to a weirdly grown tooth.
‘A free room and bath. What do you think?’ Ludgar asked, sounding impressed with himself.
‘I think we should tell Kathiya not to drink the water.’
‘Not that, I mean… Well, let’s not be too hasty.’
‘I do wonder why is everyone so enamoured by those useless bags of fat?’
‘I do wonder if that thing dangling between your legs is functional.’
‘Ah, another useless appendage. I would gladly give it up if not for the ease of urination. Speaking of functionality, I cannot imagine those breasts are of much aid in combat. It must take some serious skill to work around them.’
‘Maybe they act as a counterbalance.’
‘... Against what?’
‘Her giant arse?’