Chapter 23: Shield (2/2)
“You’re fucking hired,” Viv mumbled in her metaphorical beard.
“I am Marruk,” the Kark woman replied, “and you — something — shield? Yes? I am strong!”
“Do you speak Old Imperial?”
“Not understand...”
Viv invited the shieldmaiden to sit and then asked her to wait. Whatever arrangement the woman wanted, it did not concern the other mercenaries present here. She had an inkling that they were not fans of competition. More importantly, they gave a bad vibe, and Viv trusted her instincts.
After ten minutes or so, the sniveling deacon returned and asked for her presence with the face of someone who smelled a particularly pungent turd.
Viv invited Marruk to follow her with a gesture that the heavyset Kark understood easily. They made their way through the temple, then back into a large alley peppered with closed doors. The place was mostly silent, and they did not come across anyone.
Their guide knocked onto the largest door at the end, then left with one last venomous glare.
“Come in,” a smooth voice said.
Viv signaled Marruk to stay there and entered the sanctum of her potential employer. She stopped in her tracks when she saw the youth now sitting behind an elaborate desk overburdened with scrolls and envelopes.
[Voice of Neriad, not dangerous, follows a path dedicated to the promotion of church interest, including diplomacy and administration. Smart.]
It occurred to her that the inspection skill only referred to someone’s immediate ability to turn her into mincemeat, or well-done human kebab, when it mentioned dangerous or not. She had no doubt that opposing a voice of Neriad would only end poorly in the long run.
For one moment, she considered that he might not be as young as he appeared, and yet there was something in his traits that betrayed a certain vulnerability that even competence and self-confidence could not hide. He was not yet jaded.
Viv took all of this in, only hesitating for a few moments before stepping up to a seat that had been left for her. It was bare and looked rather uncomfortable.
“Can I trouble you to speak Old Imperial?” she asked as she sat down, “I have not learned the vernacular yet.”
“Certainly. You must be Bibiane then, though the brave lieutenant warned me that he could not pronounce your name properly.”
“Bob is fine.”
She did not care because Marruk could say it. She could say Viviane. And that was glorious.
“I find it curious that the reports from two of my subordinates could be so radically different?”
“You mean, the heroic knight I fought side by side with for weeks and your rude doorkeeper?” she asked.
Branch master Farren frowned in a way that showed he knew exactly what she implied.
“Cernit informs me that you seek employment, and also that you are uniquely suited to slaying the undead. He is… quite vocal in his esteem of your personality and contribution. It feels almost too much.”
“Lieutenant Cernit is a man of honor and he survived because I was there. He is certainly trying to repay me by, perhaps, embellishing some of what happened?”
“Can you truly kill a gut spiller in one spell?”
“Yes.”
Clearly, the voice of Neriad did not expect such a direct answer. His brows rose in surprise.
“Well, color me impressed. And you… do really wish to work with the church?”
“There is something I need,” she says.
“Of course there is…” the man replies, leaning back into his seat, “let’s hear it then.”
“My soul is wounded. I need expert help to heal it.”
Surprise twisted the Voice’s features for the second time.
“A wounded soul, you say? Are you quite sure?”
“Yes.”
“Extraordinary. A very rare and peculiar ailment, yes. Why, I believe that very few cases exist as people tend to… die immediately. You will require the help of some of the most talented healers on Param and beyond.”
“Yes. Perhaps we could help each other?”
“Indeed. Hmmm. A complex request. You see, I could get you committed to life in an asylum where you would be taken care of in comfort, if that were your wish. But you want to be healed. The time investment in dealing with unique and complex wounds… Let me think. Hmmm.”
Viv appreciated that he considered her request seriously instead of just agreeing and have future Farren find an actionable way to help her. It boded well for their future cooperation.
“Hmmm. Yes, this could work. Indeed! Very well, Bob, I see a way for us to help each other. I assume that you do not wish to join the church permanently?”
“No.”
“Then I could name you as a major contributor to our holy fight, but you would need to be consistently effective. Achieve a few important contributions. If what Cernit says is true, you have already started by stopping not one, but three necromancers with only a tiny garrison. Impressive! I have a few missions in mind that could be carried out with someone of your talent. You will be generously compensated for your efforts, of course. Would that be agreeable?”
“That sounds good.”
“Now, we only need to find you a proper team to provide protection.”
“Ah speaking of which, I met this… Kark woman, Marruk?”
Farren’s expression switched from excited to guarded in an instant.
“Marruk is in good standing with the church, if you have complaints about non-humans—”
“No! No… I merely wanted to know more about her, since she apparently wants to be my shield. Unfortunately, she does not speak Old Imperial.”
“Oh! Oh, well, this is unusual. Let me think. Marruk is a female Kark who recently left her tribe, or rather what remains of it. The Kark are undergoing hardships recently, and I do not know which one of us is more to blame. Them, or us.”
“Humanity is at war with them?”
“Not humanity. Many of the Northern Free cities have coalesced into an alliance of interest called the Pure League… Ah, I have no time for a history lesson. Suffice to say, she does not deserve the abuse the local mercenaries have forced her to undergo. As for an agreement with her, you can expect her to fulfill her promises. In fact, the Kark do their best to fulfill their promises. A bit too much, sometimes. You will not regret giving her a chance.”
Viv noticed that Farren grew more animated as he spoke of the towering woman. He was strangely defensive of her. She decided to pry.
“You appear to care about her,” she stated.
The branch master’s expression turned, once again, guarded. He guaged her reaction, and Viv did her best to appear innocuous. Perhaps he was concerned about Viv using the information to her advantage, somehow? Perhaps Kark lover was a slur in Param.
“The Church of Neriad welcomes all who fight to keep the darkness at bay, regardless of origin. The scriptures encourage us to regard heart above appearance. I have had difficulties convincing the locals of that.”
“I understand. I have no objection to working with her, I am merely concerned about the language barrier.”
“Do you wish to strike an agreement? I can translate for you.”
Viv jumped on the offer and Marruk was soon invited to join them. Farren took the time to go to a nearby office to find an extra chair for the Kark to sit before he would begin. Viv found his attention touching. The simple gesture flustered the massive woman too, and she did her best to appear smaller.
Viv started the negotiation by asking exactly what Marruk had in mind. She mentioned that, though she could use someone to watch her back during missions, she could also use a bodyguard when going around town. Someone who would guarantee her safety full time. She had several reasons for doing so.
First, one of the lessons the Baranese had shown her was that a caster was most dangerous when free to act, and that meant being protected from the imminent threat of dismemberment.
Second, although the town was reasonably safe, that could change if the locals realized that she was absolutely fucking loaded.
Third, Viv was a recent graft on a living society that she was unfamiliar with. Things were pretty mild since no one had yet tried to enslave, rape, rob, or kill her yet, and she knew parts of her own world that were much worse. It did not change the fact that she was a new player on an old board, rife with alliances and grudges that ran as deep as the root of their massive tree. It would pay to get close to the only other clear outsider here, even if Marruk felt loyalty towards Farren as well.
Marruk babbled something in a raspy tongue that Viv did not understand at all. The shieldmaiden kept stealing glances towards Viv’s relaxed form. Viv guessed here and there that Marruk was a shit negotiator. Her suspicions were confirmed a moment later.
“Marruk agrees to be your shield in battle and strongwoman outside, if you agree to treat her as such. That means you do not force her into sex and you do not use her as a maid. You will also provide enough food, and lodging, as well as… a silver a week.”
Viv’s focus clasped on that small hesitation like a bloodhound to a wounded deer’s leg.
“What did she really ask for?” she demanded.
Farren sighed.
“Can I trust you?”
“I have no intention of harming Marruk, if that is what you asked.”
“Not what I meant. The Kark take their agreement very seriously and some tend to abuse that trust, and it so happens that the girl is… desperate. No team will take her. She is on the brink.”
“She is broke?”
“We have secretly fed her for the past ten days for free, by pretending that we provide this service to anyone. We do not. She would not accept charity otherwise. Listen, she asked for an iron talent per week, but that’s just slavery. I can only ask you to treat her well. Do so, and I will personally consider it a favor. Different species working together for the common good is our sort of thing.”
“That’s fine. A silver a week to start, and I’ll increase it to three if she proves herself during the next month. Food and lodging. I’ll help her get gear if she needs it. Does she have a black mana repellent cloak?”
“No, but I can sell you one at a discount.”
“Ok, good. She gets one day of break per week provided that we are in town. Deal?”
Farren relayed her proposal. The Kark woman looked at her with abject hope tinted with suspicion. Viv could not blame her. From her perspective, it was perhaps too good to be true.
“Deal.”
They shook on it.