Jerico shut the door and gave Kaide a confused look.
“Formality?”
“It’d be a strange trap, and for little reason,” Kaide said with a shrug. “I’d go, but just in case, bring your mace.”
“I’d rather bring my shield.”
The bandit shrugged.
“Whatever. I’m going back to bed.”
Jerico flung his shield on his back, clipped his mace to his belt, and then exited the room. The servant gave him a funny look, and when he saw the mace, he frowned.
“No weapons,” he said.
“I am no threat to your lord,” Jerico said. “If you wish, you may ask him.”
This didn’t seem to appease the wiry servant much, but he gestured for the man to follow. They wound their way through the halls of the castle, which felt more like interlocking caves than hallways. After many turns, they came upon an area of the castle in the open air. Arthur sat on a bench carved of stone, staring at the moon.
“Milord,” said the servant, “the paladin wishes to keep his shield and mace. What say you?”
“Fearing assassins?” Arthur said, and he chuckled. He was in his bedrobes, and he gestured to his flimsy attire. “I assure you, I am little threat.”
“It is not you I fear,” Jerico said, “nor your men. The world is no longer safe to my kind, no matter where I go, but if you insist I will return to my room and lay down my arms.”
Arthur waved him off.
“Come. Sit with me in the moonlight.”
Jerico did, still unsure of the reason for their meeting. The bench was long, and surprisingly comfortable. The air was chill, for no torches burned nearby lest they obscured the stars. Jerico crossed his arms to keep in his heat.
“Sleep refuses to find me,” Arthur said, his head leaned back so he could gaze at the sky. “And if I cannot sleep, then the petty part of me refuses to let others. I could use a man to talk to, Jerico. Someone honest. They say that paladins of Ashhur are incapable of lies, that your god would strike you dead for even the lightest fib. What say you to that?”
“I’d say you repeat children’s stories. I speak truth by choice, Arthur, not by fear of lightning bolts from the sky.”
Arthur chuckled.
“It must be grand to have all your answers given to you. To the Abyss with politics and fiefdoms. What Ashhur says, you do. You’re not much different than any of my knights, are you?”
This time it was Jerico’s turn to chuckle.
“If Ashhur gave me orders in the same way you order your knights, perhaps it would be so easy. But even if he did, it would not truly make a difference. If you ordered your knights to abandon their families, and march to their deaths, how many would do so?”
“All of the good ones.”
“And how many is that?”
Arthur’s smile widened.
“Not nearly enough. But what of you? How much would you sacrifice?”
“All that I have,” said Jerico.
“Hrmph. Easy to say, of course. Middle of the night, everything’s calm, and every foe is a hundred miles away. But what do you do when confronted with such a terrible choice? What do you do when honor tells you one thing, and your gut tells you another?”
Jerico shifted, and he turned his attention from the stars to the troubled lord.
“What bothers you?” he asked.
Arthur sighed.
“You and your friend come to me demanding action, as if it is that simple. You’re simple people, of course, a paladin who worries only of his god and a bandit who thinks only of his vengeance. I have no god. I seek no vengeance. I must do what I think is right, not just for me, but for the people of my lands.”
“Well,” Jerico said, gesturing to the empty surroundings. “You dragged me out here to talk, so let’s talk. Help a simple man out. Either that, or let me go back to bed. I’ll kick Kaide out here to tell you a few stories.”
“Kaide bores me,” Arthur said, motioning for a servant to bring him something to eat. A young woman appeared, blonde-haired, carrying a tray of sliced fruits. Arthur took a plate, and told Jerico to take what he liked. The paladin grabbed half an apple and began absent-mindedly chewing it.
“Kaide is… he’s like a rabid dog at times,” Arthur said, eating a handful of grapes. “He’d tell me to send every soldier I had rushing the gates of my brother’s castle, to the Abyss with whether or not we’d win. He’d slit my throat in a heartbeat if it got him to Sebastian. Advice from him is pointless. I know what he wants, and what he’ll say. But you… To be honest, paladin, I haven’t a clue why you’re with him. It sounds like the makings of a very bad joke.”
“A bandit and a paladin, into a tavern they go,” Jerico said, and he laughed. “And your guess is as good as mine what the next line might be. I help because I feel I should. Kaide might be willing to go too far for what he wants, but at least his cause is just. Your brother’s actions against him… there is no excuse for murder and bloodshed done in the name of greed.”
“Greed is a tricky thing,” Arthur said. “Might not greed guide my own actions here? What if I care not for righting my family’s wrongs? What if I want power, and will use a misguided, homeless bandit to further my ends?”
“If you have that fear, Arthur, then you are most certainly not that kind of man.”
Arthur scratched at his beard.
“I forfeited my right to my father’s holdings. Honor would say I keep to what I did years ago. What Sebastian has done… it is foul, yes, but is war any better? He’s killed a few, but hundreds will die if I muster my men, and the peasant folk, to fight for me.”
He sighed and fell silent. Jerico gave him time to think, but when it seemed apparent he would not continue, he prodded him with another question.
“Why did you forfeit your right as firstborn?” he asked. “Whatever you speak stays with me, and you may refuse if you wish. I only ask so that I may help, if I can.”
Arthur tossed the rest of his grapes to the floor, and he rubbed his eyes.
“I lose more sleep over that than anything else, paladin. My father was getting old, and his mind was failing him. I pray you never endure anything similar. A cruel fate, watching a proud, intelligent man torn down piece by piece, until nothing is left but a child. There were times he was still himself, but mostly… Anyway, I talked with a servant I trusted, and procured a simple poison. It would only make him sleep for a few days, that is all, but I hoped that during that time I could take control of my birthright. But I was caught, turned in by that very same servant. My father would hear no reason, for never did he believe his mind was breaking.”
Outwardly, Arthur remained calm, as if his face were that of a statue instead of a living man. His voice kept steady. But his eyes were watering, and he made no pretence at hiding it when he wiped them.
“He went to his grave thinking I had tried to kill him, all because I didn’t want to wait the few months it would take for him to grow bedridden. The way he would look at me… so angry, so confused. He was like a child even then, a child betrayed. Father almost ordered me hanged, but Sebastian intervened. If I would only return to my private lands, and relinquish any claims to my inheritance…”
He looked to Jerico, as if surprised he’d said as much as he had.
“I lost much because I tried to take what was not yet my own. Sebastian rules. The land is not mine. Should I spill so much blood for a few farmers and outlaws?”
Jerico crossed and uncrossed his arms, trying to think through his tired, hazy mind.
“I think… I think I could use a drink,” he said.
“A sound plan.”
Arthur gestured, and the blonde serving girl returned, this time holding a tray with two cups and a steel pitcher. Jerico accepted a cup, and he squinted at the liquid the girl poured into Arthur’s.
“Do you not drink wine?” the lord asked.
“Water, please,” Jerico said, putting the cup back on the tray. The girl smiled at him, but something about her look prickled the hairs on his neck. It wasn’t that she seemed frustrated or angry. No, her face remained absolutely, perfectly controlled, if not pleasant. Like glass. Impressive for a servant girl forced awake to attend her lord halfway through the night…