RFC-ARC 3-Initiate-Part 9 (Patreon)
Content
“…huh?”
He’s not the only one giving me a confused look. It makes me want to laugh which only convinces me more about my decision. “Skills, boy.” Even though he’s not much younger than me. “Cooking, cleaning, sewing. Am I making sense?”
“I, um, I…my father used to work in a manor. I helped, er, my lady.”
“Good enough. You’re hired!”
“Huh?”
“Let me put it this way. You can either come work for me or you can stay with these people and get dragged off to prison.”
“You!” he shouts immediately. “But, um, I can’t leave my sister.”
He puffs out his chest as he declares that though his eyes are gloomy. How touching. I don’t have any siblings so it’s hard to relate. Would I be thrown into a damp dungeon to stick with Jac?
Saints no.
“She can come along too if you can keep her under control.”
“Yes! I’ll definitely make sure she behaves. Thank you, my lady!”
“None of that. And why are you still sitting there? Go over with them.” I jerk my finger in the direction of the Guiness knights. Earl slowly climbs to his feet and walks over, holding onto his sister tightly with a bewildered expression. The knights step aside to make room for him beside them, the boy looking vulnerable between their impressive statures. Heh.
“Alright. The rest of you—”
“Wait!”
I turn to the shouter. Oh, it’s Rat. He looks rather excited about something.
“If it’s servants you’re looking for, then take me!”
“Eh? Why would I want to do that?”
“I can serve as a guard.”
“Are you stronger than my wife?”
I laugh as he grimaces but the bandit isn’t done selling himself. “I’m a great cook! One bowl of my bear stew and you’ll never want to eat anything again.”
“I’m pretty sure I can hire a better cook in the cities. You know, people who’ve spent their lives dedicated to food rather than robbing people. And your name is Rat. Can’t say I’m comfortable with someone named Rat cooking my food. Just doesn’t sound like a good idea.”
“That’s not my name! The guards started calling me ‘street rat’ and refused to use my real name. It’s—”
“Hey now. I know it’s not the best name out there but you shouldn’t disrespect the name given to you by your mother. It’s filled with love.”
“Like I said, my name isn’t—”
“And a second thing. You say you want to be a servant of mine but you’re already talking back. Tell the truth, I don’t think you’re really servant material.”
The bandit flinched. “That’s not true. I—”
“Alright. Glad we settled that. You enjoy your stay in prison.”
“Wait!” the man shouts again, continuing to plead his case. To make matters worse, the others join in, pleading their cases. Huh? When did this become a mass interview? I decide to grab a few poor orphans and now everyone thinks I’m some kind of saint here to absolve them of their sins and lead them to a better tomorrow.
“AHH, SHUT UP!” My voice snaps out with surprising strength, causing a break in the ruckus. I stomp over to the closest Guiness knight and motion for their sword. After a quick look to Maxine, who nods, the knight hands over his weapon and I stomp back toward the bandits with narrowed eyes.
“You all want the spot so bad? Okay. This is how we do it. Starting from you,” I say pointing the blade at the one on the farthest right, “feel free to make your case but if I don’t find you interesting then I’m going to stab you.”
Nothing makes people rethink their life quite like brutal violence. Speaking from experience. Standing close enough to make out each individual bead of sweat on his brow, I hold the sword above him, the point hanging ominously over his chest. “Go on. Take your chance.”
“Ah, aaaa, um, I’m…fine with going to prison.”
“Great. Next.”
The bandit clears his throat. “I was born in—gahh!”
His words are cut off by a scream as I plunge the sword down, the weapon easily piercing through his shoddy armor. I pull it free and he coughs up blood with his next breath.
Uh, that looks bad. Is he dying? He might be dying.
…whatever. Kierra can help him if it looks like he’s going to slip away on us. But they don’t know that, heh.
I give the rest of the bandits a look and they flinch away. “Your life stories aren’t interesting and I have somewhere to be. Next.”
The next ten decide not to plead their cases. Even Rat skips his turn but the man beside him goes for it, taking a deep breath before shouting “I love pretty flowers!”
…okay, wasn’t expecting that. “Go on.”
“I want a garden of pretty flowers. But the prettiest ones are poisonous. Gave one to a friend and he used it to kill a noble. I was also accused and now I’m a wanted man so I have to be a bandit when all I want to do is take care of my babies!”
Short, humorous, and pitiable. Not bad. I move the sword away and take a step back. “What’s your name?”
“Gajin, milady.”
“Gajin, get up and join the kids.” He blinks at me, disbelieving. Then he hastily gets to his feet, giving me a clumsy bow while muttering his thanks. I shoo him off to the others. The next dozen in a half are busts and I stab one more before I arrive at the last bandit.
“And? What do you have to say for yourself?”
“Nothing. Prison or death, doesn’t really matter.”
“What?”
The young man looks up to me with dark eyes dead to the world. That goes beyond boredom and mere indifference. He truly doesn’t seem bothered by the idea of dying. “I’m just a ghost anyway. Living one second more is already a surprise.”
“…do you even want to work for me?”
“I don’t know why you’d want such a useless vessel but I can give it to you.”
“Um…okay?” This one is confusing. Almost as confusing as he is depressing. But even that is interesting, which makes him much more valuable than the rest of the rabble. “Do you have a name?”
“Trash.”
“…seriously?”
“That is how the one who raised me most often referred to me.”
Ouch. That’s just sad. “Is there another name?”
“They also called me Nomad.”
“Nomad.” I let out a sigh of relief. “I can work with that. Up you go.” I move the sword away and give him a helping hand. He lumbers over to the knights like the walking dead. “You guys can tie them up now,” I say handing the sword back to its owner. “You four, follow me.”
My new ex-bandit servants follow me to my carriage as the knights handle their ex-compatriots. Kierra appears at my side, wearing a smirk. “Are you sure this is a good idea?”
“Hm? Not at all. But it’s fairly low risk. I mean, what are they going to do? I can take them all. I’ve been considering getting servants for a while and took advantage of the opportunity. Besides, it was amusing at the time. They’re some interesting characters.” The loyal brother, the feral girl, the man who became a bandit because of poisonous flowers, and the living ghost. Sounds like a weird band of heroes from a bard’s song.
“I have to agree with that. This Gajin may also be interesting. I’ve been meaning to import a few plants.” She pulls out an arrow, waving it. “There isn’t much need for it but I would like to have my toxic coatings available in case something worthy passes us.”
She wants to be deadlier? Great. “Of course, dear.”
Geneva is standing in front of the carriage carrying Bell. My imp jumps toward me immediately and I catch her reflexively. After three months carrying her around, I barely notice the strain. “I suppose you heard all of that?”
“I did. These…ruffians are hardly suitable to serve you but I suppose they can be molded into something.”
“Coo.” [I would be more than happy to handle anything you need, Master Lou. There is no need for these inferiors.]
“Aw. But if I had you doing those things, I wouldn’t be able to cuddle you all the time.”
“Coo coo!” [I am always glad to accompany you!]
“You’re so sweet, Bell. Alright. Servants, we’ll work out the details of your employment later. For now, introductions. This is my lovely wife, Kierra, and the cute thrall there is Geo, my contracted elemental. Their orders are my orders. The adorable imp in my hands is Bell. She’s not too friendly to strangers so watch your fingers. Good? Great. Now, who can drive a carriage? Anyone?”
“The dreariness of the road is a fitting analogy for the bleakness of my life,” Nomad responds.
“That a yes?” I let out a sigh as he gives me a faint nod. “Then you can take over. Since we don’t have a second carriage, the four of you are just going to have to share the driver’s bench. I’ll get you some blankets and cushions or something later. Good talk.”
My new servants murmur their thanks and follow my orders. Lucky for them, my carriage is made extra-large so there’s enough room for them without being squeezed together.
Before we all board my carriage, I spot Maxine approaching. “Are you going to tell me that you want my servants? I’m sure the capital’s courts and dungeons won’t miss them.”
The merchant waves me off. “No, feel free. I was wondering if you needed any extra supplies since you’ve suddenly taken on more bodies.”
“Never missing a chance to do business.”
“Please. Something this small is nothing between friends.”
This girl is shameless in her efforts to get closer to us. However, after a few months, I’ve grown both accustomed to it and appreciative. “Thanks, Max. One of these days we’ll have to do something for you besides opening new trade routes.”
“Oh, well. There goes all my plotting.”
“Perhaps we can invite you to dinner,” Kierra offers with a grin. “Once we’ve redecorated our residence, you can give us your opinion.”
Maxine gives a small bow. “I would be delighted. Please let my subordinates know if you need anything. If you give us a few moments to finish this business with the bandits, we will be ready to continue.”
“Sure, take your time.”
Finally, I board my carriage again, letting out a deep sigh as I settle onto the bench. Not the worse way for an ambush to end but I swear, I am writing an official complaint about this road.