Hidden Agendas (2)
"Then don't wear me out. Slumped over the horse like this is making me dizzy as hell."
"Weak constitution."
"I was already in prison before you caught me. The only thing I ate back then was soup made with three cockroaches, you bastard."
"Eat."
Ritonovitch tore a leg off the rabbit roasting over the campfire and handed it to Unia. She snatched it and bit into it immediately. It was tough. She chewed with a grimace.
"No seasoning at all. Smells awful too."
"I caught it in a hurry so you wouldn't starve. Even if it tastes bad, eat your fill. And if you're going to die, don't do it in front of me. Wait until I've collected the money and left, then die in front of Lord Cain. I'm begging you."
"Piece of trash."
Unia tore another bite from the meat in her hand. They had just finished the rabbit between them when a voice called out from the darkness.
"Where are you headed?"
Ritonovitch snatched up the sword he had set on the ground with quick hands.
"No need to be on guard. We mean no harm."
The stranger stepped into the firelight. It wasn't one person—it was four. The middle-aged man who had spoken wore scale armor and sat atop a horse, while the other three were armed infantrymen.
"I'm Volanto, head of the Tykzael family from Paren Village. We're on our way to Harmel Castle to fight the Richard family. These three are my eldest son and his attendants."
"I'm Chivino, a wandering mercenary. I'm escorting a criminal."
Ritonovitch used his alias, eyeing the four men warily. His gaze was that of a hyena watching for someone to steal its prey. Volanto glanced at the chains binding Unia's wrists from atop his horse, then addressed her.
"What crime did you commit?"
Still seated on the ground, Unia smiled brightly.
"I came as an envoy from Lord Richard and got captured."
"What? An envoy?"
In an instant, the infantrymen surrounded Ritonovitch and Unia. Though they hadn't drawn their weapons, all four stared at Ritonovitch as if ready to strike.
"I heard an envoy from the Richard family escaped from Harmel Castle. Is that woman the one?"
Ritonovitch clicked his tongue inwardly and replied.
"I wouldn't know. She claims as much, but we'll have to check once we reach Harmel Castle."
"Hand her over. I'll compensate you handsomely."
"Not selling. I'm taking her to Harmel Castle to show the lord, then sell her."
Suddenly, the man who appeared to be the eldest son drew his sword and pointed it at Ritonovitch's throat.
"Sell her if you don't want to die here."
"Why? Trying to steal the credit?"
Ritonovitch no longer bothered hiding his killing intent. He snorted at the eldest son in disdain.
"This woman is my prisoner. I won't hand her over to anyone."
"A beggar mercenary who doesn't know his place. Remember this—it's four against one."
The eldest son growled. Ritonovitch narrowed his eyes and gripped his sword hilt.
"If you're confident, come at me."
"Kill him!"
At Volanto's shout, Ritonovitch drew his sword in a flash and drove it into one attendant's chest. As the fight erupted, Unia sprang to her feet amid the chaos and began fleeing desperately.
"Money girl!"
Ritonovitch roared after her. He swung his blade and severed the eldest son's head in one stroke. He tried to chase after her, but Volanto and the remaining attendant rushed in to block him. Swords clashed violently. Ritonovitch's movements were fluid and swift. After slaying the second attendant in an instant, he turned his blade on Volanto. Volanto blocked with his shield, but the wooden shield shattered helplessly. Losing his balance, Volanto tumbled from his horse. Ritonovitch seized the opening and drove his sword into the man's throat.
"Damn it!"
Having dispatched all four in moments, Ritonovitch sprinted in the direction Unia had vanished. Unia, fleeing with both arms bound, hadn't gotten far. Her legs gave out twice, sending her tumbling to the ground. Ritonovitch caught up like a beast. He reached out from behind, grabbed her by the collar, and slammed her to the ground.
"Kyaa!"
Ritonovitch kicked Unia in the side as she lay there, then seized her by the collar and yanked her up.
"Trying to pull a trick already. You're a clever one."
Ritonovitch's eyes widened as he grinned savagely. Unia coughed and wheezed from the blow to her side.
"If you try this bullshit again, my patience and leniency will run out. So be prepared. That patience only lasts as long as the other side behaves. If you keep resisting like this, I'll have to get forceful, won't I?"
"Heh heh."
Unia laughed lowly, blood trickling from her mouth.
"What happens when your patience runs out? You'll beat and rape me?"
"No."
Ritonovitch suddenly leaned in and planted a kiss on her forehead.
"I'll take you deep into the mountains where no one will find us and make you my wife."
He smirked, lips curling, and for a moment he looked like a monster. Unia felt the hairs on her body stand on end.
***
Marcus's life in Herrera was leisurely and peaceful. Lord Usheril and his wife, Qualin, were kind and cheerful, treating the envoy Marcus and his young wife Lemarchi with utmost hospitality. Marcus and Lord Usheril got along famously. They met often like old friends to play chess and discuss the state of the world, and at night they would drink and gamble until dawn, just the two of them.
"My friend, Marcus. Are you in?"
At the sound of Lord Usheril's voice outside the door, Lemarchi shook Marcus awake from where they lay side by side. Marcus wanted to sleep longer, but there was no helping it. He was an envoy, after all. His job was to keep the other lord in good spirits. No doubt the man had come to challenge him to a game of chess before breakfast.
Marcus rubbed his eyes, threw on his clothes, and stepped outside.
"Good morning!"
Lord Usheril greeted him with a bright embrace before leading Marcus out to the garden. Birds chirped in the fresh air, and a faint morning mist still lingered. The two men sat across from each other at an outdoor table. As always, a chessboard sat atop it, with two maids in attendance and a knight standing guard for the lord. The moment they sat, the maids brought them hot tea with lemon slices in milk. One sip eased the hangover from drinking with Usheril the night before. Truthfully, they had drunk and gambled until three in the morning, only to meet again three and a half hours later. That was how much Usheril had taken to Marcus. And despite being seventy-three years old, he was as vigorous as a young man.
"I'll feel quite lonely once you leave for Lanchester."
Lord Usheril was already lamenting their parting.
"While you're here, ask your lord if you can stay until your wife gives birth. I'll take excellent care of you both."
"Why not just settle down here for good?"
At Marcus's joke, Lord Usheril slapped the table and roared with laughter.
"Splendid idea! I'll take you on as my vassal! And give Lord Richard the most useless one of my own in return!"
A warm smile spread across Marcus's lips.
"I'm deeply grateful for how kindly you've treated my wife and me. Truthfully, I'd like nothing more than to stay, but I can't leave my lord alone with a clear conscience. I'll visit often even after I return."
"Your lord isn't a child. Has he married?"
"He's still unmarried, but he's set to wed a very noble and beautiful lady soon."
"So he's unmarried for now."
Lord Usheril wore an enigmatic smile. The two men enjoyed the chess game and the clean air until the last traces of morning mist had cleared. Later, during breakfast with Lemarchi and the lord and his wife, a knight suddenly brought in a letter. Marcus thought little of it at first, but the moment he glimpsed the seal, an ominous feeling settled over him. The letter was from the Cluiston family.
"Hmm…"
Lord Usheril's frown deepened as he read. When he finished, he closed his eyes in thought before turning to Marcus.
"Lord Richard has no children, does he?"
"Not yet."
Whatever he had been confirming, Lord Usheril suddenly clapped twice. A knight who had been waiting outside rushed in, and Usheril whispered something to him. Tension filled the once-pleasant dining hall. Marcus gently took his wife's hand beside him and swallowed hard.
"Understood."
The knight hurried out. Moments later, a group of young women entered the dining hall and lined up before Marcus. There were fourteen maidens in total. Their ages varied from women in their twenties to girls not yet ten. Marcus knew exactly who they were. They were all Lord Usheril's daughters.
"Greet Marcus here."
"Yes, Father."
Lord Usheril had long worried over the lack of a son with his wife Qualin. Hoping desperately for a male heir, the couple kept having children until they finally had twenty-five daughters. Whether it was a curse from the gods, the Herrera family never produced a successor. To make matters worse, five years ago Lord Usheril lost the ability to father children altogether.
"Eleven of the twenty-five have already married. The prettiest, Libilla, wed into the Metis family far away. Others I gave to knights of our house, or to merchants when we needed loans for the territory's finances, or to a dim-witted cousin who couldn't find a wife, or even to my younger brother—who's sixty-seven now—after his wife passed."
Lord Usheril clicked his tongue bitterly.
"I wasn't thrilled about sending one to my old brother either, but it couldn't be helped. Since I can no longer have sons, I hoped my brother and daughter would join forces to produce an heir for our house."
He took a sip of wine.
"Explaining where the rest went would only tire my mouth. In any case, they've all gone their own ways for the sake of Herrera. So these are the ones left. Fourteen in total."
He gestured toward his daughters.
"Take a good look at their faces and figures. They take after their mother—ample bosoms and sturdy hips that could bear dozens of children."