‘Yeah, so he owes me.’ Hirad kept his face away from the Xeteskian as he spoke. ‘I don’t have to like him. I don’t even have to look at him. In fact I can go on hating him. All I have to do is put up with him riding near by on the way back to Korina. Then he pays us a great deal of money and we never see him again. I think I can handle it.’
‘Anyway it’s not that simple,’ said Ilkar.
‘Yes it is.’
‘It isn’t and I have a real problem with it,’ began Ilkar, but the barbarian loomed over him.
‘I know you don’t agree with the Xetesk morality—’
‘That’s an understatement and a half—’
‘—but considering what you lot have been about behind my back, I don’t think it’s the kind of money we should turn down, do you? It might be the last we ever make.’ He straightened. Ilkar just scowled at him. ‘Face it, Ilkar, you’ll be outvoted. Don’t make it difficult.’ Ilkar’s eyes narrowed to slits.
The Unknown reached a hand across to Denser. ‘We have a contract. Talan will write it and you and I will sign it. No actual value will be mentioned but the percentage and intention to pay will be registered.’
‘Excellent,’ said Denser. The two men shook.
‘Indeed it is.’ The Unknown drained his mug. ‘You know what, I can feel a Rookery party coming on.’
The door to the kitchens opened again.
‘I hear you couldn’t save my mage. A pity. He was a good man, Seran.’
The Raven turned to look at their employer, and Denser his erstwhile opponent for the first time. Baron Gresse was middle-aged with a powerful mind and a quartet of sons to make up for his own fading strength. Spurning rich man’s clothes - and he was among the top five Barons in terms of wealth - he walked in wearing practical riding garb, cloak over one arm, leather jerkin, woollen shirt and leather thighed cloth trousers.
He dismissed his men at arms from the door and waved away the babbling kitchen folk as he made his way to The Raven’s table. He studied them all through his large brown eyes, his balding grey head moving smoothly as he did so. He reached out a hand.
‘The Unknown Warrior.’
‘Baron Gresse.’ The men shook.
‘A pleasure to make your acquaintance.’
‘Likewise.’ The Unknown glanced along the table. ‘Get the Baron some coffee, Talan.’
‘Well, well, The Raven. Hardly a surprise we won the day. Seran always chose well.’ Gresse chewed his lip. ‘Where will I find another like him, eh?’
‘Julatsa,’ said Ilkar. ‘At least we’re consistent.’
Gresse chuckled. ‘Do you mind if I sit down?’ He gestured at the bench. Ilkar moved along and he sat. Talan placed coffee in front of him. He nodded his thanks.
An awkward silence fell around the table. Denser scratched his beard nervously. The Unknown gazed at the Baron, impassive as always. Ilkar’s ears pricked.
‘I shan’t keep you in suspense,’ said Gresse, sipping at his beverage, a smile playing about his lips. ‘But I was hoping you might be able to back up something I’ve heard.’
‘Of course,’ said The Unknown. ‘If we can.’
‘Good. I’ll be brief. I have been called to a meeting of the Korina Trade Alliance concerning deteriorating conditions to the west of the Blackthorne Mountains. There are rumours that the Wesmen have stepped up activity, broken the Understone Pass Right of Passage agreement, and there are fears of incursions into the east - although I should point out that the garrison at Understone itself has reported nothing out of the ordinary. I need to know whether you have picked up any rumours. I understand you were fighting with Baron Blackthorne himself not long ago, and he is unable to attend the meeting.’ Gresse’s eyes twinkled.
‘We only fought with him so The Unknown could get a better deal on his wine.’ Sirendor smiled.
‘I feel sure you did not.’
‘As it happened, that was part of the agreement,’ said The Unknown. ‘As regards rumours, we heard plenty while we were there, but this is six months ago we’re talking about.’
‘Anything you heard, even in passing, that I could bring to the table would be useful.’
‘Put it this way,’ said Ilkar. ‘If you believed everything you heard, the Wytch Lords are back, Parve is a bustling city once again and the Wesmen are torching everything west of the Blackthorne Mountains. ’
‘And you give these rumours no credence,’ said Gresse.
‘Nothing a Wesmen war party might do would surprise me,’ said Ilkar. ‘But aside from that, no.’
‘Hmmm.’ Gresse was thoughtful. ‘Interesting. Thank you for your help yesterday, by the way. I understand you lost a man. I’m sorry.’
‘It’s a risk, let’s be honest,’ said Hirad, though his tone was unconvincing.
‘Nevertheless, to lose a friend cannot be easy. I am sorry and I am grateful. Yesterday’s was a battle I couldn’t afford to lose. Literally.’
‘You make it sound as though you’re on your uppers,’ said Talan.
Gresse shrugged. ‘Taranspike Castle is of major tactical importance. The owner negotiates rights of passage through one of the principal routes in and out of Korina. Had I lost it to Baron Pontois, he would have controlled both of my key transport routes to the capital as well as holding land on two sides of my estate. He could have chosen to deny me access or price it out of my reach, either way bankrupting me over time. My best alternative route takes days, not hours.’
‘Unless you chose to take one back by force,’ said Hirad.
‘That is always an option. Expensive but an option.’ Gresse’s face hardened.
‘And yet you’ll sit down with Pontois at the Korina Trade Alliance, ’ said Talan.
‘Yes. Strange, I know, but reality. Such is the malaise of the KTA. The word “alliance” rings very hollow these days.’ There was more than a hint of sadness in his tone.
The table fell silent for a time. The Unknown Warrior studied the Baron while he drank his coffee. The big warrior smiled, Gresse caught his expression and frowned in response.
‘It seems to me that you omitted to tell us any rumours you might have heard,’ said The Unknown.
‘I did, and I have something rather more than rumour, I’m afraid. I have evidence that the Wesmen, far from burning, are subjugating, building and uniting again.’
‘What do you mean, again?’ asked Hirad.
‘I’ll teach you the history later,’ said Ilkar with a shake of his head.
‘How could you—’ Denser bit his lip and closed his mouth.
‘Something to say, Xetesk man?’ Hirad growled.
‘I was merely curious how he came by such information.’ Denser’s recovery was betrayed by a face that displayed his surprise.
‘Everything has its price,’ said Gresse, coolly. ‘Might I ride to Korina with you this morning?’
‘Be our guest,’ said Hirad. ‘Denser’s paying, after all.’
‘Good.’ Gresse rose, shooting Hirad a quizzical look. ‘My party will be ready in, shall we say, one hour?’
‘It suits us perfectly,’ said The Unknown. ‘Gentlemen, The Rookery beckons.’
Erienne and the Captain met in the library. Warmed by two fires and lit by a dozen lanterns, the immaculately kept house of books was testament to his intelligence if not his morals.
Five shelves high, covering three sides of the room, perhaps fifteen by twenty-five feet, books loomed around her. A fire stood either side of the only door. Rugs covered the floor and a reading desk dominated the far end. She had been told to sit in a large green leather-upholstered chair near one of the fires, and when the Captain came in, followed by a warrior carrying a tray of wine and food, he said nothing before setting himself in a similar seat at right angles to her.
She had locked her gaze on the fire to stop her eyes catching sight of him, allowing the light of the flames to mesmerise her, only dimly hearing the clink of glasses, the glug of a pouring bottle and the metal sound of knife on carving tray.