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"Do we really need to go there?" Arawn asked with his eyes on the ground. If he wasn't careful, the soles of his boots would be cut open by the numerous shards lying everywhere.
Corwal waved for him to follow and pushed open the door that was barely holding on its hinges. It creaked like the world was about to end.
The large hall in which they found themselves was quite dark. The small windows on the first floor could only brighten the sides of the room while the middle remained in shadow.
It took a moment for Arawn's eyes to adjust to the different lighting. He blinked a couple times, then looked around again. There wasn't much furniture in the room, but what was present didn't seem to have been used for ages.
There was a mountain of dust on the table by the staircase whose original color could no longer be seen. Everything was buried under the gray substance without exception.
Corwal whistled and went toward the staircase. The moment he was about to put his hand on the railing, there were footsteps above. A middle-aged man marched down the steps, taking two at a time.
There was white hair at his temples, but not a single wrinkle could be found on his face. His movements were full of energy and bull-like strength, making it hard to guess his age.
A scabbard was at his side, thudding against his leg with his swift descent, but ether was at his fingertips as well. There was only a faint scattering of it, but Arawn was pretty good at spotting the accursed substance. He knew when he faced a mage.
"Peter!" Corwal called out with a smile.
When the man descended, Corwal gave him a half-hug before the other could think to bow, which he'd been planning to do based on the way he moved. The middle-aged man wrinkled his brow, looking a touch annoyed, but didn't complain aloud.
"Corwal. I thought I'd never see you again after you left with such fanfare. What happened? Did you finally realize you belong with us? The men have missed you."
"I need your backing in negotiations. That's all," Corwal said straight away, dashing the middle-aged man's hopes without a second's hesitation.
Peter smiled wryly. "So you're not one of us, but we have to run whenever you call like a trained pack of dogs? I don't know how I like that image."
"You knew it'd be like that, but you still came, didn't you?" Corwal said with a strangely gentle expression. There was genuine warmth in his voice when he spoke next. "Thanks for that. I'd love to say to hi to everyone, but we're in a hurry. If there's time, I'll definitely do it."
Peter's shoulders slumped, but he nodded. "Let's go then. You want us to pressure Broken Talon, right?"
"Yeah. I'm thinking of helping Rain succeed in exchange for all the information about the other factions within her outfit. Do you think she'll accept?"
"She won't like it, I'll tell you that," Peter said after a moment of thought. "But she will yield. Without outside a.s.sistance, she's bound to lose. The scales of power are just too skewed toward Garshta."
Corwal nodded, agreeing with it. While he was thinking, Arawn took a step forward and asked, "Who's Garshta?"
His words surprised both men, and they turned to him like they had just remembered about his existence. Peter looked annoyed, but he hid it almost the instant the emotion showed up on his face.
"Right, sorry," Corwal said. "Peter, this is Arawn. He saved me from the Gutter and we've been lately traveling together. Arawn, this is Peter, the leader of Scarlet Treason. It's the mercenary outfit I mentioned to you before."
For a fraction of a second, Peter's eyes filled with distrust. He didn't look like he believed what Corwal said, but at the same time didn't dare to voice it. "It's a pleasure to meet you," he said instead.
"Same," Arawn echoed him in a cold voice.
He hadn't missed the fact that Peter was still holding onto the ether. There was so little of it that one might not notice it if they weren't paying attention, but Arawn didn't have anything else to do but watch the two men. After what happened the last time he allowed strangers close to him, he didn't plan on making the same mistake again.
"Stop looking like two cats about to fight just because you don't know the other. Peter, I trust Arawn so stop acting like he's going to backstab me right in front of you. It would have been much simpler for him when we were alone in the woods and I was sleeping."
He then turned to give Arawn a chilling look as well. "And you stop acting like the whole world's against you. Peter isn't going to attack you out of nowhere. He has at least that much common sense."
Chagrined, Peter let go of the ether. He'd clearly thought he'd been subtle enough, but Arawn hadn't been the only one who'd noticed it.
"That's better. Now let's go to Rain. The less time we spend in Mairya the better."
Arawn still didn't trust the middle-aged man, but for Corwal, he put away his apprehensions. Maybe Peter really was a trustworthy person. But it was a big maybe.
While they walked to Broken Talon's base, Arawn learned that Corwal had sent a message to Scarlet Treason while they were in Ayersbert. It was when he'd said he had something to do and ran off for a time.
Back then, he'd only asked them to investigate the movements of the mercenary outfits by the border and tell him the findings when he got to Mairya. Peter did it because Corwal was their outfit's founder and someone everyone would follow to their last breath. If he asked them to jump off a cliff, not one person would hesitate.
What they had found in their investigation was pretty similar to what the Katalan family had told them. Broken Talon was the most likely suspect since they were working in that area, and one of its factions had left for Ayersbert a bit over a month ago.
"But you're saying they haven't returned?" Corwal said, not sounding happy. "That means they're still in the country and not here."
Peter nodded. "I don't think either of the girls are in Mairya. If it's really Broken Talon, they made it look like they were going to return, but changed direction once they were out of sight. I'm afraid your journey here was a waste of time."
"Don't be so swift to judge that," Corwal said while waving his arm in dismissal. "There are other people in Ayersbert who'll find them if they've left any tracks. And if not, I'll learn about their whereabouts here."
They fell into the discussion about where the mercenaries could have went to hide while Arawn watched the streets. He wanted to help, but his knowledge about the countryside was non-existent.
The already familiar feeling of being useless surfaced in his mind. Once more, he could do nothing but walk behind Corwal, unable to offer anything to the conversation. He hadn't been to the main cities of his land, let alone the countryside.
'I'm nothing but hired muscle. Just worse, since I'm a walking danger to everyone.'
The ether was all around him, but all of its power was useless when one needed knowledge about the world itself. No matter how sharp the sword, it could never tell its owner how to cross a river or navigate a city.
'And I'm just a sword, a sheathed weapon that Corwal can unleash whenever he wishes.'
It was a d.a.m.ning thought, but he didn't think it was beyond his friend. If the time came when it became a necessity, Arawn doubted Corwal would choose his peace of mind rather than victory. There was just something about the man that said he held his work above everything else.
They reached an inn on the other side of the town with a badly drawn dark bird's foot on its signboard. Peter was the first person to push through the door, and the room instantly went quiet.
The next instant, half of the crowd jumped to its feet and pulled out their weapons. Steel glistened in the light as ether gathered at the hands of many people. They raised them in a threatening manner, promising death to anyone who dared to take another step.
"What's happening?" asked a melodious voice from the stairs.
A woman in her early twenties leaned against the railing of the first floor, watching them. Her blonde hair was pulled into a tight bun at the top of her head, giving her a severe look. It was only enhanced by her narrowed eyes which were a little slanted inward.
She was dressed in brown pants and shirt while two daggers hung at her sides. She didn't draw them though, and neither did she call upon the ether. Arawn had no idea if she could even see it.
"Peter of Scarlet Treason.... To what do I owe the pleasure of your unexpected company?"
Peter took a step to the side, revealing Corwal behind him. His action almost brought a torrent of attacks upon them, but the woman ordered her people to stand down. They didn't look happy, but they lowered their weapons and sat back down.
"And he is?"
"Corwal. Just call me Corwal. I wished to meet you, but I had a feeling you'd be too busy to meet with a n.o.body, so I asked for an introduction. I hope it wasn't too much."
The woman looked him up and down, ignoring his attempt at formal speech. "Someone who can call upon Scarlet Treason's leader can't be simple, but what do I care. Come. If you want to talk, let's talk."
With those words, she turned around and disappeared on the first floor. Peter and Corwal looked at each other, then shrugged and went up the stairs. Arawn followed behind them, watching the crowd to make sure no one thought to send a blade of ether their way.
They did not.
The three of them reached the first floor without any trouble and went to the second room on the right. Its door was left open, revealing the woman curled up on the couch with a cup in one hand and a scroll in another.
She glanced up once they entered, looking mildly surprised. "You actually came…"
"I have an offer for you," Corwal said while sitting down on the opposite couch. "Your pride might get hurt, but hear me out and really think about it. I'm your only chance to make it out alive."
The woman placed the scroll on the table between them and gave Corwal a scrutinizing look. Soon, a smile stretched across her face, and she leaned back against the couch while holding her cup with both hands.
"You've got my attention. Do tell me how you're planning to save me."