The Viscount and the Witch (3 page)

“So now I see…you’re here to rob me, is that it?” Albert shouted. “Well, the joke is on you.” He looked down at his feet and made a noise—a pathetic laugh. “I have nothing…nothing at all.” Just then he dropped to his knees, put his hands to his face, and began to cry. “I have no place else to go,” he whimpered. “While it provides little more shelter than the maple tree it leans on, this barn is at least a roof over my head, and provides a soft place to sleep.”

Royce and Hadrian stared down at him.

“So, this is the great ogre, then?” Royce asked with a smirk.

“If all you needed was a place to rest, why did you threaten the farmer’s wife?”

Albert wiped his face and looked up with a puzzled expression. “Who?”

“The woman who owns this farm. Why didn’t you just ask her permission to sleep here?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Old witchy looking woman? She lives in the house just up the hill. She says you threatened her.”

Albert looked first at Hadrian, then at Royce as if trying to decipher a riddle. “No one lives there. Have you seen it? I sleep here because the house is a disaster. The floorboards are all rotted and there’s a giant wasp nest in the rafters. This farm has been abandoned for years. Any fool can tell that.”

Royce looked to Hadrian who quickly left the barn and ran up the slope.

The sun had slipped behind the treeline casting long shadows across the fields and the house. Just as Albert had described, the building was a wreck. A good size sapling grew out of the kitchen floor. With slumped shoulders he returned to the barn where Royce was gathering wood for a fire.

“See,” Royce said. “Told you this wouldn’t go well. She’s gone, right? The nice lady you wanted to help has fled, taking our horses and all our belongings with her.”

Hadrian allowed himself to collapse on a fallen oak beam and muttered a curse about the woman.

“Don’t blame her. This was all your doing. You practically begged her to rob us. Now will you listen to me next time?”

“I just can’t believe someone would do such a thing.” Hadrian shook his head.

“I know. That’s why I had to show you.”

Hadrian looked up. “You knew?”

“Of course I knew.” Royce pointed at Albert. “Like he said, any fool could see this farm hasn’t been lived in for years. And didn’t you wonder why she was hiding along the road like that?”

“So why didn’t you say something?”

“Because you had to learn a lesson.”

“This is one costly lesson, don’t you think? Our payment, our gear, not to mention the horses themselves.”

“Well, that’s what you get for helping people.” Royce replied. “Didn’t they teach you anything in Hintindar? If you had been raised properly, you’d know better.” Royce turned to Albert. “Isn’t that right? I bet no one has ever helped you, have they?”

“No,” Albert replied with his eyes downcast.

“How long have you been here?”

Albert shrugged. “A week maybe.”

“What have you been living on?”

He plucked the material of his nightshirt out from his chest. “I didn’t come here in just this, you know.”

“You’ve been selling your clothes?”

He nodded. “The road has a good flow of traffic. I had some very nice pieces. My doublet fetched enough for an entire cask of rum, but that only lasted a few days. I was serious about the nightshirt. You’d be doing me a favor if you bought it.”

“That’s all you have. What are you going to do, walk around naked?”

Again he shrugged. “No sense leaving anything behind. My father taught me that.”

“See, this poor bastard is going to die here—penniless and miserable. He’ll starve. The world is a cold, ruthless place.” Royce paused to study Albert. “Probably in less than a month, I’d wager, and no one is going to lift a finger in his favor. That’s the way the world is, cold and indifferent, even on its best days.”

Hadrian sighed. “I was just trying to help.”

“Yes, you can see how much she needed you. She needed to be saved from this scoundrel. Look at him. He’s a monster if ever I saw one.”

“You’ve made your point, Royce.”

“I hope so. I hope we won’t have to go through this again. I’ll clear those stars from your eyes yet.”

Royce built a pleasant fire near the door, to allow the smoke to escape, and by the time he had it strong enough to put on a good size log, the sun had set and night arrived.

“Here,” Royce said, handing Hadrian a strip of salted pork.

“So that’s why you were rummaging in your pack.”

“I should let you go hungry,” Royce replied.

Albert stared at the bit of meat, his eyes following it.

“How long has it been since you’ve eaten?” Hadrian asked.

“Days. I had a bit of bread someone threw at me—that was…three days back. Yesterday I chewed some bark, which was awful, but it helped settle my stomach a bit.”

Hadrian held out the strip to him, which brought a groan and an eye-roll from Royce. “Didn’t we just go over this?”

“You gave it to me, didn’t you? Besides, you just said that I should go hungry, and yet you gave it to me anyway. Why was that?”

“Because…” Royce scowled. “Oh do what you want. I don’t care.”

Hadrian watched as Albert bit off the end and chewed, then asked, “So what’s your story? Why are you here like this?”

“I told you, I’m the Viscount Albert Winslow.”

“Seriously?”

Albert nodded.

“I thought that was just some line you were giving me. You really are noble?”

“Yes. Granddad Harlan Winslow lost the family fief by losing a bet to the king of Warric. My father didn’t do any better. He squandered what was left of the family fortune on women, gambling, and drink. Neither of them gave any thought to me and how I would survive with nothing but a title that serves as a noose around my throat.”

“How’s that?” Hadrian asked.

Albert took another bite. “Do you think anyone hires a noble for mucking out a stable or laying cobblestones?” He held up his hands. “I don’t have a single callus. Even if I decided to leave title and pride behind, I lack any useful skills. I’m like a milk cow slapped on the backside and turned out of the barn to make her way in the forest. A chicken, returned to the wilds to fend for myself.”

“I don’t think chicken’s have
ever
been wild,” Hadrian said.

“Exactly.” Albert paused to stare at the remainder of the salt pork strip. “Your friend is right. This is just prolonging the inevitable. It’s a waste. Here.” He held out the meat.

“Keep it,” Hadrian said, tilting his head at Royce. “I’m supposed to be learning a lesson.”

“Oh shut up, the both of you. I have more.” Royce pulled another strip of pork from his vest and handed it to Hadrian.

“So that’s my miserable story,” Albert said. “How about you two?” He looked at Hadrian. “I’m guessing you’re his apprentice?”

Hadrian laughed. “No. We’re…business partners.”

“What line?”

“Procurement,” Royce said.

“What kind?”

“Any kind,” Royce answered.

Albert stared at them for a moment, then his eyes widened. “You
are
thieves.”

“He is.” Hadrian pointed to Royce. “I’m new to this.”

“Really? What did you used to do?”

Hadrian thought a moment. “Kill people.”

“Assassin?” Albert sounded impressed.

“Soldier.”

“Oh. Guess that explains the three swords though. How’s business? Clearly you’ve been making out better than I. What do you do? Pick pockets?—no, with three-swords here you’re probably highwaymen, right? Hold up merchants? Or do you kidnap and ransom?”

Royce chuckled.

“What’s funny?”

“We don’t do those things,” Hadrian explained.

“No?”

“No. Stealing—like that, it’s—wrong,” Hadrian declared.

“But you’re thieves—you
are
thieves?”

“Like I said, he is.”

“Oh—I see. You’re the honorable soldier—but wait—why are you working with him then?”

“Same reason you’re trying to sell your nightshirt,” Royce replied.

“For rum?”

“Rum?” Hadrian said. “Not food?

Albert shrugged. “That’s what I do with all my money. It helps take my mind off the fact I spent all my money on rum.” He quickly added, “So what do you do, if you don’t rob people?”

“Contracts, mostly” Hadrian replied. “People who need help come to us and we—”

Royce grumbled. “You see how he thinks? We don’t
help people,
we
use
them. Let’s say—oh I don’t know…” Royce whirled his fingers in the air as if trying to conjure a thought. “Let’s say—purely as an example—a merchant sets up shop across the street from an established one. The established merchant, let’s call him
Bernie
, doesn’t like it, so he tells the new guy, we’ll call him
Andrew
, to leave. Let’s say Andrew doesn’t. The next thing you know some thugs tear Andrew’s place apart and breaks his wife’s arm. Then Bernie tells the new guy—Andrew—that he needs to leave, or the next time he’ll be dead.”

“So you’re the thugs?” Albert asked?

“No, we…”—he looked at Hadrian—“we
help
the new merchant.”

“How so?”

“I’m a creative problem solver.”

“You bust-up Bernie’s store?”

“No, that would get Andrew killed.”

“What then?”

“I hire the same thugs to trash the store of the wealthiest merchant in town—and tell them Bernie supplied the gold. Next day someone starts an ugly rumor that ’ole Bernie is causing trouble for his competition. The story is easily confirmed because of the first incident. The wealthy merchant, we can call him Sebastian, has connections—they always do. The next day a fire burns Bernie’s shop to the ground. Unfortunately for him, Bernie’s caught in the fire having accidently fallen asleep in his shop—tied to his bed.

“The money we paid the thugs is only half of what Andrew paid us. We pocket the rest. Once I get Hadrian schooled in the art of intimidation, we’ll make more.”

“They shouldn’t have killed him,” Hadrian said.

“See what I have to deal with? Problem is, you don’t get too many jobs like that. But what you said about ransom is true. There can be good money in that if you grab the right target. Even
he
can’t complain too much about that kind of work.”

“Well, in return for the meal, let me offer you a bit of advice,” Albert said. “We’re just outside the City of Colnora, and if I were you, I wouldn’t pull any kind of job around here, or the Black Diamond will be after you.”

“Black Diamond?” Hadrian asked. “Is that the city patrol?”

Albert chuckled, and Royce shook his head, looking at Hadrian as if he had dropped his pants in public.

“You’re not from around here?” Albert asked.

“From Hintindar, a tiny manorial village south on the Bernum river.”

“And you’ve never heard of the Black Diamond?”

“I haven’t been in the area much. I’ve been away for quite a few years.”

“Oh,” Albert said. “Well, the Black Diamond is a thieves’ guild. Some would say
the
thieves’ guild. The most powerful and extensive one in the world. Their headquarters is just down that road in Colnora. And like any thieves’ guild, they don’t like interlopers. If they find out you’re practicing your trade around here, they’ll track you down and slit your throats. And trust me they’ll know. The Black Diamond is not an organization to toy with. Kings have been known to bow to them rather than face their wrath.”

“Well, I hope they catch up with that woman who stole our horses then,” Hadrian said.

“They already know about her,” Royce said. “She was Black Diamond.”

“What do you—” Hadrian shook his head. “You knew? I can’t believe you didn’t say anything. You just let her take our horses and all our gear?”

“What part of ‘you need to learn a lesson’ didn’t you understand?”

“You’re insane, do you know that?”

“Yeah, well you’re not the first to bring it up. But there’s nothing more to be done tonight. I suggest we settle in and get some sleep.”

Royce scrambled up to the loft and bedded down there. Hadrian continued to stare in shock after him for a minute before giving up and mounding a pile of hay near the fire. “I honestly can’t believe him sometimes.”

The nights were still chilly and by morning there was a damp fog hanging in the air. Royce was the first one up. He got the fire going again, which surprised Hadrian as they had nothing to cook. He likely built it out of boredom while he waited for Albert and Hadrian to wake. Most people would have done it to stave off the cold, but Hadrian had never seen Royce affected by the temperature, neither cold nor hot.

“Morning,” Albert said as Hadrian sat up, shivered, and moved to the fire with the rest of them.

He scrubbed his face with his hands and wiped his eyes clear. The day was cloudy and the valley filled with a thick mist. Hadrian enjoyed mornings like this, quiet and serene, like a drowsy pause a lazy world was taking. He crouched to catch the warmth of the fire while dodging the smoke.

“So, where were you two headed before misfortune dropped you here with me?” Albert asked. He lay sprawled next to Hadrian, like a dog before a hearth.

“Up north. A place called Medford,” Hadrian replied and began brushing hay off his shirt. “Royce has someone up there he wants to visit. Ever hear of it?”