186 Secret Deal (2/2)
”I don't plan to sour anything.” Despite his sharper tone, Brym still retained his smile. ”Aren't half of those bandit attacks caused by northern barbarians? You aren't suggesting that I or any of my men made a trip west, into King Amautu's territory, and then north through the mountains, are you? And when we made our way through all of King Amautu's lands, undetected, we looked for allies among people whose language we don't even understand, and coordinated attacks against trade caravans with them?”
”Nothing of the sort. Even so, the attacks around Ancash Forest seem far too well organized and the bandits there are far too well-equipped. They surely have a strong backer. Do not forget that Eastern Medala is also King Amautu's territory, so you should tread with caution.”
As they were talking, the palanquin had entered Lord Betucio's private estate, the goal of their journey.
”Well, after the incidents during the succession war, it is fact that our wolf mercenaries have become well-known for their ferocity. I'm sure these bandits were put off by the reputation of the white devil mercenaries, which is why we made it through there despite my relatively weak entourage.”
Brym pretended to think for a while, before he presented a solution that would let him continue to deny his involvement with the Latrus bandits.
”How about this: We can loan out a few of King Corco's men for your own caravans. This way, these bandits will see the white devils, so you can safely travel through that forest yourselves. But I don't have many mercenaries at my disposal, and I'm responsible for their security as well. Be aware that I'm risking my position here.”
”Of course, Official Brym. I will be in your debt.”
Still embroiled in their conversation, they entered the halls of the Betucio Mansion. As they walked, they took a short break, consisting of Brym flattering the lord on his sense for interior design, mostly. Despite his calm demeanor, the merchant had no idea what would happen next. Somewhere in here, he would meet Inti, and possibly further representatives from Amautu's side, for proper negotiations. The bandit issue was just a little aperitif, barely of importance in the grand scheme of things, but it was still one Brym considered won. However, the merchant still didn't know the reason behind Betucio's secrecy, or why they had talked about the bandits on the way here already. As a last resort, he decided to be a bit more direct than usual.
”I wonder why we couldn't meet elsewhere? Since we represent the two kings, shouldn't we be meeting in one of their residences, or right in the palace?” Although Brym was his big brother's disciple and didn't really care for the formal rules of Medala, he was still aware that most of the lords were very adamant about them. It was a bad idea to not play by them and risk offending some of Corco's allies. Although he lightly insinuated his poor treatment to his host in an attempt for more information, Betucio only looked uncomfortable and dodged the question.
”Please excuse me, Official Brym. However, the circumstances have forced this lord's hand, so matters had to be handled with care to avoid detection. Please be understanding. This way please.”
Although Brym still wasn't any smarter than he had been, he didn't question the lord further. He had always been good at reading people, and while Betucio had gotten more and more uncomfortable at his repeated probes, the governor didn't seem to have malicious intentions. Still, the chance for some sort of sneak attack could never be disregarded. Maybe someone had forced Betucio into a scheme, or maybe the governor was unaware of someone else's machinations. While he thought, Brym calmly stuck his hands into his wide, Medala-style sleeves, his right gripped around his wheel-lock pistol.
”Whatever the circumstances are, Lord Betucio, I am sure you have your reasons. I don't mind the secrecy. At least we won't have to deal with all those palace officials here.”
Ready to jump to the side and take the governor as hostage in his own home, Brym followed into a spacious salon, warmed by a grand fireplace. However, the other two guests stunned him so much he almost lost grip on his weapon. Of course, Inti was there to represent Corco's side, but the second guest of Betucio's wasn't someone Brym had ever expected to meet outside of the palace.
”The officials are not here because this king risks his reputation by meeting with a common warrior, and a barbarian no less. After all, this king's support stems from the wise scholars of the west and they would not want me associated with the likes of you.”
There, on the best seat in the house and across from Inti, sat Amautu Secundu Pluritac, King of the North. Brym's eyes widened for a second as he understood the implication of Amautu's words. Although he complained about their difference in status, this was a rare chance to talk away from prying eyes, about much, much more than he had initially planned.
”Official Brymstock di Pluritac greets the King of the North.”
After he corrected his rare slip-up in expression, Brym's eyes turned stern and he lowered his head in a perfect bow.
”Very well, you may raise your head,” the king said. ”Please enter, there are many matters to discuss.”
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From atop the walls of his city, Lord Makipura watched as the last vestiges of King Pacha's army disappeared over the western hills.
Now that the king's men had left his territory, Makipura could breathe easy at last. Although being host to a king should have been an honor, King Pacha's great warriors had proven to be nothing more than locusts, acting like invaders rather than guests. After they had emptied all of his granaries and displaced all of his farmhands, at last they had moved on to do their dirty deeds further west. At least the southern king's landing had still been in time, so some of Makipura's foundation remained. He would suffer during the next harvest and he had to eat into his treasury to get his warriors through the winter, but the worst was over. Still, despite his distaste for Pacha's horde, the lord didn't mind a northern win, so long as it was quick.
In truth, he didn't care much about the conflict between the two kings. As a lord on the border between Sachay and Sinchay, he had plenty of contact with both southerners and northerners and didn't mind the shallow differences in culture. On the other hand, he was also perpetually stuck on the front line of any battle. Since the northerners were usually the aggressors and couldn't get past Qarasi Castle, they would naturally spend most of their time in his lands, to Makipura's detriment. If this infernal war didn't end soon, it would spell even more disaster for his lands.
With these thoughts in mind, Makipura retreated back into his mansion to begin the rebuilding process of his deserted lands, and to organize the defense against a potential counter attack from Qarasi Castle. Although Pacha had left some troops behind to take care of their encampment, he had pushed most of the work onto Makipura and his men. At least they had been excused from any more frontline fighting. At this point, the lord was mentally drained and didn't even care that Pacha's poor impression of him would only net him a small portion of any loot at the end of the war. He really was just happy if those mighty kings had stopped forcing their wills on him.
However, his wishes had been too bold, it seemed. As soon as he entered his private study, he found a suspicious letter atop his desk. It was sealed with the Triquetra, the imperial sigil of House Pluritac. To Makipura, the thing exuded a malevolent aura like no piece of paper before it. How foolish Makipura had been. Of course the arrogant young king Pacha wouldn't leave without a final jab at his honor. The lord took a deep breath and opened the letter, expecting to be exposed to more of King Pachacutec's tirades and threats.