Once he was spotted, a group of riders broke away from the main column and galloped toward him.
“Who are you?” one of the men said, as soon as they were within earshot.
“Banneret of the White Guillot dal Villerauvais. An emissary of the king. I need to speak with your captain.”
The rider gave Gill a curt nod, indicating that he was also a banneret. “Banneret of the Starry Field Carlos dal Dorado. The king, you say?”
“Yes,” Gill said, returning the nod, acknowledging the Estranzan equivalent of his title. “The King of Mirabaya. This is a kingdom.”
“We were given to understand that he is dead and that there is a regent in place. A regent we’ve been hired by.”
“I’m afraid your information is incorrect,” Gill said. “If you’d be so good as to bring me to your captain, I’ll be happy to explain all.”
The rider cast a glance at one of his comrades, then looked back at Gill.
“Follow us,” he said. “And you can dump that ridiculous-looking flag.”
Gill discarded the branch and shirt cuff, then dropped in beside the riders.
“Quite a big force you’ve got here,” Gill said. “What company are you?”
“Black Spur, Red Lance, and a few smaller ones to make up numbers,” dal Dorado said.
“Who commands?”
Dal Dorado and one of his comrades laughed but made no reply. When they got closer to the column, dal Dorado held up his hand.
“Captains!” he said. “Messenger from the King of Mirabaya.”
“Thought he was dead,” one of the men at the front said.
Gill shrugged. It was becoming clear to him that the mercenaries had either been supplied with very out-of-date information or been completely lied to. It occurred to him that he needed to be careful not to give away too much. Should they choose to reject the king’s proposition, it was better that they remain as ignorant as possible.
“I bring an offer from Boudain the Tenth, King of Mirabaya,” Gill said. “To whom do I have the honour of speaking?”
“Captain Carenjo of the Black Spur,” said one.
“Teloza of the Red Lance,” said the other.
Gill took the sealed papers from his tunic and held them out, still not sure which of the two men he should give them to.
Eventually Teloza, a man with a thick salt-and-pepper moustache, dressed in fine crimson clothing, leaned forward in his saddle and snatched the papers from Gill. He gave the seal a cursory inspection, then broke it open with no ceremony. He took what felt like an age to read the contents, during which Gill did his best to appear the disinterested messenger. Eventually, the mercenary captain looked up from the pages.
“Promise of payment to go home?”
“I believe that is what the king is offering,” Gill said.
“If this is some sort of prank,” the captain said, “I’ll have you strung up from that tree over yonder.” He pointed at the stand of trees where Gill had made his flagpole.
“I assure you, on my word as a Banneret of the White, this is not a prank,” Gill said. “The king’s offer is in good faith.”
Teloza handed the papers to Carenjo, who clearly didn’t like having been made to wait. The body language between the men did not speak of a solid working relationship. In the ordinary course of their contract—marching their troops to Mirabay, where they would be dispersed about to bolster Amaury’s regular forces—it wouldn’t be a problem. If they were to march into battle, Gill didn’t fancy their chances of providing cohesive command. It was as sure a route to disaster as any he could think of, and any self-respecting captain would have avoided winding up in this position. Clearly whatever Amaury had offered was enough to make them throw caution to the wind. Gill had to wonder if the king’s offer could make them turn their backs on it.
“This is derisory,” Carenjo said. He crumpled the paper and dropped it to the ground.
Gill grimaced. “I take it that’s a no, then.”
“We’ve made a contract with the Lord Protector of—” Gill burst out laughing and Carenjo cast him a filthy look.
“I’m sorry,” Gill said. “I didn’t realise that’s what he’s calling himself these days.”
“The Lord Protector of Mirabaya,” Carenjo continued, “and we will hold true to it. What else does a company have, if not its reputation for keeping its word?”
Gill shrugged. He could think of a couple that had made a perfectly good living by changing sides whenever it suited them. Clearly the king’s offer hadn’t been tempting enough to make them change their colours. Gill wondered if there was anything he could do to convince them, but given that he wasn’t in a position to change the offer or to add to it, it seemed that his hands were tied. He really was nothing more than a messenger. Still, he couldn’t let it lie without doing something.
“Perhaps you might sleep on it, gentlemen,” Gill said. “An offer from a king is, after all, an offer from a king. I dare say the Lord Protector won’t be in that role for much longer.”
“Perhaps,” Teloza said. “Perhaps not. We’re losing the light, so should set camp for the night. We can discuss the matter further with the junior captains over supper, but I doubt our answer will be any different. You’re welcome to remain and sup with our officers,” Teloza continued. “Banneret dal Dorado will show you where.”
One thing armies the world over were good at doing with little encouragement was setting up camp. The faster it was done, the sooner they could get fed and into their bedrolls. Gill made idle chitchat with dal Dorado as the companies settled in. He noticed they paid only lip service to setting up pickets or posting sentries. Clearly they weren’t expecting trouble, and Gill supposed they were right. It was unlikely they would face an enemy until they met the king’s army, most likely below the walls of Mirabay. There were no other forces in the field that a company of this size would have to worry about.
Supper was good. That was always the case with mercenary companies, in Gill’s fleeting experience. When men were hired, rather than levied or conscripted, they had to be treated a little better if you wanted them to stick around and fight for you. The menu was fresh beef, potatoes, and a vegetable stew of some Estranzan recipe that was a little too spicy for Gill’s taste, but it was the best meal he’d been offered in quite some time, so he ate it all gladly.
It was late, with the sun having long fled the sky, when Teloza and Carenjo appeared from the command tent and strolled to where the officers had messed. The other officers had been eyeing up their tents for some time by then, but were obligated to entertain their guest until their commanders had agreed upon a response.
“Our answer remains the same,” Teloza said. “In consideration of the royal dignity, we’ve written a letter. Please inform His Majesty that we are sorry, but our word is our bond, and we have signed a contract with the Lord Protector.”
Gill took the letter. “I understand. I’m sure His Majesty will appreciate the respect you’ve shown.”
“You’re welcome to remain here for the night, if you’d prefer not to set off in darkness,” Carenjo said.
“Thank you for that kindness,” Gill said, “but I should return immediately.”