The Valor Of Man (3)

"Neither of those is a possible option, I'm afraid."

"Then do it yourself. I'm sick of you always manipulating the people around you to do your dirty work. Now, if you're quite finished, get the hell out of my office." Baron Reynolds remains where he's standing. The real conversation begins now. "What else do you want? I said get the hell out of here!"

"If I leave now, who's going to hide that money you embezzled?"

"What the hell did you say?"

"Ten thousand Denarii are missing from the collected tax pool. I wonder who could have done such a thing?"

"That's impossible. I checked it myself," Armstrong says as he rummages through the paperwork on his desk.

"Of course, who else but you holds control over the town's finances?" Reynolds maintains his knowing smile as Armstrong frantically continues searching. After several minutes, the Baron in charge of finance grows pale.

"How did you–?"

"I didn't do anything. Kobayashi, on the other hand–"

"He would never!"

"You'd be surprised what that man is capable of when his men's well-being is on the line." Reynolds leans against the desk, so his face is only a few inches away from that of his prey. "Now, what can you do to help me? We both just want to make this whole thing disappear."

"You son of a bitch," Armstrong hisses.

"Now, now, name-calling won't get us anywhere."

"I'll make a call." The finance minister pulls a small orb from his desk and fills it with some mana. The sphere glows a dull green color before a man's face appears on the other side.

"Baron Armstrong! It's been too long. How the hell are you?"

"I've been better. Look, I need to ask you for a favor."

"Of course. What can I do for you?"

Baron Reynolds exits the capital building with a bright smile on his face. Now that the deserter situation has been handled, all he needs to do is report to the Duke. Reynolds walks slowly across the market square to the tent stationed at the far edge. He takes a quick breath before pushing through the flaps.

"I swear if one more of you idiots come up to me with a problem, I'll have your head!" The Duke raves. It seems the situation has deteriorated since this morning.

"My lord, I have news about the deserters," Baron Reynolds interjects.

"What is it?!" The Duke's bloodshot eyes fall upon the lesser noble.

"I've contacted the Mercenary Guild, and they're dispatching a unit to capture the renegade troops."

"What the hell were you thinking?! Call them back!"

"Sir, this is the best chance of dealing with the deserters without thinning our troops."

"It's also the best way for everyone to find out about them!

"Sir, we'll need all the men we can get to defeat the fairies."

"What?! You're saying we can't beat a handful of fairies?! If you're so scared, then get the hell out of my office. I'll take care of it myself!"

"I'm just saying we should be cautious because the fairies have defended against multiple invasion forces already."

"You must think I'm stupid!" The Duke shouts accusingly.

"No, my lord, I'm just–"

"Then you must think I'm weak!"

"Not at all, sir, I–"

"Then call off the mercenaries and put together a force as I ordered you the first time."

"Yessir!" Reynolds jumps to his feet and races out of the tent before the Duke can lambaste him further. Kobayashi turns to the Duke after his partner in crime has left.

"I know you're anxious, but that's no reason to attack him like that."

"Goddammit, don't you think I know that?" the Duke responds as he slides down into his chair.

"He's working himself to the bone for your sake."

"Bullshit, he's working himself to the bone for his own sake. He doesn't give a damn about what I'm trying to accomplish."

"Maybe so, but politics makes for strange bedfellows."

"Ha, you always have an answer for everything, don't you."

"They're just some shallow words of regret from an old man."

"Don't sell yourself short. You're a good person. You're willing to defend him even though he didn't notice you standing beside me."

"Thank you, my lord."

"Now, hopefully, we can remove Reynolds from the invading force, so I don't have to worry about him stabbing me in the back."

"All's fair in love and war." Kobayashi shrugs.

"Shut up, you old bastard." The laughter of the two nobles fades into silence before it can reach Baron Reynolds. After taking a verbal lashing from the Duke, he returns to the capital building with his tail between his legs.

"Get the hell out of my office. If I ever see you in here again, I'll kill you myself." Baron Armstrong spits poison at his adversary but is completely ignored. Reynolds walks up to his desk and plops a big bag of coins in front of him.

"Here's the money Kobayashi borrowed. He told me to give it to you," Reynolds explains in an exhausted tone. Eric Armstrong remains silent and only glares back suspiciously. "And call off the mercenaries. The Duke doesn't want a bunch of them running around looking for the deserters. He says he doesn't want the news to spread."

"I called back and canceled as soon as you left."

"Ha, I suppose I should thank you." Baron Reynolds walks to the door with his shoulders slouched. "I'll be glad when all this is over."

"It doesn't matter," Eric replies. "Things will never go back to the way they were. You've shown your true colors."

"At least you haven't changed." With a sigh, Baron Reynolds exits the room and closes the door behind him. The bright suns drill into his skin like a burning light of retribution. The missteps he's made have finally caught up to bite him.

"I guess I'll do it myself." He trudges back to the main troop formation to look for one of his knights. Unable to find him, he calls out the knight's name, "Sir Marcus!"

"Reporting!" Like a ghost, the young knight appears, standing right behind him.

"Ah, there you are," Reynolds replies while trying to hide his shock. "How many men have you been assigned?"

"Twenty-four, sir."

"That'll have to do. Gather them up by the command tent and prepare for departure. We'll be heading off to hunt down the deserters."

"But I thought we would be involved in the main invasion force."

"Orders are orders. The Duke wants me to send out a squad within our forces to accomplish the task, so I'd like to oversee it personally." Marcus only responds after a brief hesitation.

"Very well, sir."

"Good. Now, keep your chin up. Hopefully, we can get those bastards fast enough that the war isn't over by the time we get back. Quickly now."

"Yessir!" The young knight darts into the crowd with renewed vigor.

There's no way we'll return in time to join the battle, but he doesn't need to know that. The thirst for glory is what drives these men, and I can't just take that away from them.

The smallest sliver of a grin rises on one side of the Baron's face as he thinks back to his time as a knight. The young man's sparkly-eyed naivete is enviable.

If only I could go back in time and do this all over again, maybe I wouldn't make so many mistakes. Maybe things would be different.

His grin fades as he arrives at the flaps of the command tent. Who knows what kind of abuse awaits him on the other side? The Baron braces himself by taking a deep breath and pulling all the emotion off his face. The cold, calculating face pushes through the tent flaps and approaches the Duke.

"I've gathered a squad of men to hunt down the deserters. They'll be led by myself to ensure the work is completed properly."

"Very well, you're dismissed." Baron Reynolds blinks in surprise at the calm reply. Confused, he looks up to see Kobayashi standing stoically beside the Duke.

"Yes, right away, my lord." Before the Duke's mood sours, Reynolds dashes out of the tent to find Marcus standing nearby with his men.

"Reporting, sir!" Marcus cries with passion in his voice.

"Good. Let's go to the stables and get everyone a mount. Can everyone here ride horses?"

"No, sir." A young militiaman, not much older than a child, steps forward with a forlorn expression.

"Well, you'd better learn fast. Let's get moving." The Baron leads his troops to the military stable set up just outside the town and fills out the requisition forms to have each person assigned a horse. Once everyone is strapped in, he gives tips to those who have never ridden.

"Marcus!" the Baron shouts.

"Yes, sir." We are probably going to be gone for at least a week. How many rations did you bring?"

"Enough for two, sir."

"That's what I like to hear. Move out!" With that final order, twenty-six troops leave the main force and head to the next town to hunt the deserters. Little do they know, they'll never see any of their peers again.