“Sire, this is Sir Godwin of the Great Company,” Moore introduced the knight .

  The large man’s eyes, sharp and calculating, met mine, making my back tingle with warning. His face and armor, equally scarred, were proof of his extensive battlefield experience.

  Dangerous man. I hope he is more imaginative in his work than he is with names, I thought, as I nodded to him.

  “Welcome, Sir Godwin. Please, sit.”

  “My lord,” he bowed and took his seat.

  “My cousins paid quite well for your services. Your company must be really good.”

  “We are not the largest, my lord,” he said in a deep bass, “but we are one of the best.”

  “But?” I asked, noticing a slight hesitation in his voice.

  “I have some information that might be of use to you. Word from the grapevine is that men close to Duke Stormhaven are inquiring after several companies of mercenaries. Aggressively. We charged your cousins more for forgoing any future offers.”

  My eyebrows rose. “He doesn’t have unrest in his own lands, does he?”

  “Not that we are aware of, my lord.”

  I took long breaths to calm myself. Our Duke did not like Jack’s father, so it made sense for him to try to capture Nobart in its time of weakness. But was he dumb enough to attack when I was going to be the Prince Consort?

  I shelved the thought for the moment; no point worrying when I had immediate issues to solve.

  “Sir Godwin, my cousins have been confined to their chambers and the Crown has confirmed me as the new Count of Nobart. I’m sure you have seen the troops in the Crown’s livery, led by two knights of the Royal Guard?”

  He nodded silently.

  “So now you work for me for the duration of the contract, correct?”

  “Yes, my lord.”

  “Good. I believe you were paid five hundred gold coins for three months of service. That’s almost a gold coin per soldier, a month,” I emphasized. “Most people don’t make that even in a whole year. You better be really good.”

  “We are, my lord. We are fifteen heavy cavalry, twenty light cavalry, eighty archers and eighty five infantry. All veterans of multiple campaigns.”

  “Good. I need experienced men. Do your families follow you?”

  “Yes,” he said, hesitantly.

  I nodded. Families tied men far more securely than oaths.

  “Sir Godwin, do you enjoy the life of a mercenary?”

  “My lord?”

  “Do you want to keep fighting for this or that petty lord in random battles for the sake of their egos and greed?”

  “Such is the life of a mercenary.”

  “It does not have to be. I would like to see your men in action. If I’m impressed, I will offer your company a permanent position in the new standing army of Nobart. A well equipped, disciplined force in the service of peace and prosperity, not pointless fighting.

  The pay wouldn’t be as fantastic as what a mercenary makes, but it would be regular, and might come with a plot of land for a nice house.”

  He seemed to be considering it, or pretended to do it, so as to not offend me. Words, after all, were worthless without proof.

  I turned to the captain of my guards. “Theo, find a target below and empty your magazine into it.”

  He saluted sharply, approached the edge of the balcony and looked down into the courtyard.

  “Observe,” I told Godwin.

  Theo raised his repeating crossbow, sighted it and began firing.

  The thwip-thwip-thwip of bolts flying in rapid succession filled the air; iron biting into wood, until the magazine ran dry.

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  The echoes faded. Silence returned.

  I turned to look at Godwin, who was watching the weapon with awe.

  He got up from his seat abruptly to peer down into the courtyard.

  Almost a minute passed before he turned to face me.

  “May I purchase this weapon, my lord?”

  “No,” I said without hesitation. “Not even for a thousand crowns. Only men loyal to me will carry such arms. No one else.”

  He kept nodding, calculating, then looked at me, eyes sharp with determination.

  “We will prove our worth to you, my lord,” he said, bowing deeply.

  That evening, Reshma sat beside me on the balcony, her yellow-green gown contrasting beautifully with the distant snow capped peaks of the Erz range.

  “Your aunt has been constantly bothering me about your cousins. You can’t delay judgment for too long. Your indecision will be read as weakness.”

  “What do you recommend? Stripping them of titles and lands?”

  “No!” she said sharply. “That will cause unrest. Your county is unstable as it is. You need to be seen as a calming influence, one who brings peace and order to the chaos, not agitate it further.”

  “I can’t leave them as they are. They will stab me in the back the first chance they get.”

  “I know. They are not loyal, but they are also not entirely reckless. If they were, I would urge you to immediately discard them, but cautious men can be used.”

  “You are advising patience?”

  “Control,” she said slowly. “Justice delivered too quickly is still destabilizing, especially with the state your county is in. Delay forces people to reveal themselves.

  Until then, use them in a way that neutralizes them as threats. Make them dependent on you. Build a trap they choose to walk into, letting them reveal themselves.”

  “And my aunt? She’s not harmless either.”

  “Sideline her. Give her respect, but no authority. Move her to a nearby residence with a set of rotating servants to monitor her every action and communication. Invite her to religious functions and domestic ceremonies, but never councils. That will tell everyone she no longer holds any power. If she tries to grab some, she would have hung her own noose.”

  “What if they don’t step out of line?”

  “Then they will soon make themselves irrelevant.”

  “And if they do?”

  “Then everyone will understand why you had to move against your own ungrateful family.”

  I caressed her slender hand. “You’re terrifying.”

  A wicked smile came upon her face as she gave me a peck.

  “Good. That means you don’t have to be.”

  The next evening, Gunter, Olfric and Osilda arrived at the same balcony, escorted by Moore, Grimric and a few soldiers.

  While Gunter bristled with anger, Olfric eyed the knight of the Royal Guards with caution. Aunt Osilda, who had a beautiful smile on her face, went on her knees and grabbed my hand.

  “I’m so glad to see you recovering, Jack,” she said warmly. “I have prayed every day for you.”

  “Thank you, aunt. Please, stand.”

  “Why are we being treated like criminals in our own home?” Gunter asked.

  “At first, you were suspected of ordering the attack on me. The attackers’ testimony exonerated you of that, but we have found extensive proof of your abuse of office. Not only did both of you abuse some poor girls, you siphoned a lot of money meant for running the county.”

  “It was my prerogative as the Count to use it as I see fit,” Gunter spat.

  I exhaled. He wasn’t completely wrong. Rulers could push institutional policy, if it even existed, and rules aside on a mere whim in these times. It disgusted me, but such reform would take time.

  “And the girls?”

  “Youthful indiscretion,” Osilda butted in. “It will not happen again.”

  “I’m afraid I can’t just let it go, aunt. Their assets will be used to pay for the compensation we’ve arranged for the girls. But that is not the extent of their crimes. Sir Moore?”

  The man bowed and left us. He soon came back with a soldier.

  “Soldier, were you guarding the chambers where my cousins were plotting to attack me?”

  “Yes, Sire,” he nodded, eyes downcast.

  “Lies!” Gunter swore.

  I fixed him and Olfric with a stare. “Cousins, I sympathize with your plight. You come into power after my father’s death, then one proclamation of the Queen takes it all away. That doesn’t mean you get to murder me, which you were planning. If the Crown wasn’t standing behind me, I dare say you wouldn’t have hesitated at all.”

  “And done the world a favor by ridding it of a father-killer!” Gunter said out loud, digging his own grave.

  His poor mother tried to shush him, but he pushed her away with an angry glare. A few days in solitary confinement had destroyed whatever sense his younger brother had put in him. The said younger brother just watched the exchange in silence.

  “Olfric, you have nothing to say?” I asked.

  “Can we talk in private, cousin?”

  “No. Based on your actions, I’m not inclined to cut a deal with you. What do you have to offer, anyway?”

  “Peace. The entire county is in turmoil. You will need someone accomplished with words to bring it under heel. Lady Reshma isn’t even a Nanoan, let alone a northerner. Nobody will trust her words.”

  “I won’t let you plants seeds of dissent or personal loyalty among the people.”

  “I will renounce my right to the line of succession,” he said, shocking everyone.

  After a while, I broke the silence. “Let me think on it.”

  “I’m not going to haggle on my honor like my brother,” Gunter spat the last word like venom.

  It seemed his patience had run its course, and with it, his usefulness in the long term. I looked at Olfric, who looked resigned.

  “Jack, please!” Osilda again went to her knees and tried to clutch my leg.

  My first instinct had been to have Gunter and his loyalists be the vanguard to the attack on the thieves that took over Blackrain, but if he survived, he would become a hero. Killing him later would paint me as a villain. I’d have to find a different way to get rid of him.

  “Let us continue the discussion tomorrow,” I said.

  “Let me stay with my brother,” Olfric interjected. “I will convince him that strife within family isn’t good for anyone’s health.”

  I looked at him. “Be quick. I give you a few hours.”

  As they were escorted back to their chambers, I turned to look at the courtyard.

  Soon, it would be full of mercenaries, soldiers and the families of the fallen of the Battle of the Bog.

  I had to push through the hard choices, no matter how much I wanted to avoid them, or they would return, compounded.

  With interest that would be paid in blood.

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