Unfortunately, I do not get to watch Alana and Kierra’s “conversation”. Yulia convinces me to accompany her out of the carriage. Certainly not as a deterrent. Geneva, who is sitting on the driver’s bench, is more than capable of that. I suppose she wants me to watch her work from up close. I don’t mind. It’s not where I want to be but listening in is a thrill of its own.
I’m surprised Yulia takes Allen though. It’s good for my entertainment, as I suspect Alana would be much less susceptible to Kierra’s charms with the large, innocent eyes of a child watching on, but worrying. The boy isn’t in any danger, unless there’s a cohort of master casters lying in wait, but I’m surprised a mother would take the chance, no matter how remote.
She must be very confident in our abilities, a not altogether unreasonable possibility. Or perhaps she wants me to think she has such confidence in us. An action that makes sense if I look at it from Alana’s perspective of her sister.
Trust begets trust. Such an overbearing gesture of vulnerability would inspire warm feelings in all but the coldest heart. But to risk her son for such a reason? Maybe I’m too trusting when it involves a pretty face, but I can’t imagine such a thing.
The bandits are nothing to speak of, common examples of their kind. Men, most of them young and foolish, stand behind the charismatic leader, distinguishable from the other riff-raff by his place of prominence at the front of the group blocking the road and his nice leather vest.
He isn’t like the bandits in bawdy tales, with a head of lush hair and a charming grin. In fact, he has no hair at all. His rather plain face is made distinctive by a long scar by one eye and his smile is mangled, the expected result of a life of violence and no access to an accomplished healer.
Like the other times I’ve been waylaid by brigands, more of their number lie in wait out of sight. They’ve gone the extra step to block our retreat as well. Measures that will do them no good, as we’ve no intention of running but it speaks to their level of organization. That’s part of my problem with the whole situation. Rat and his bandits were quite organized as well. It says a lot that so many criminals have the leeway to organize.
The leader’s stern expression softens with confusion as we approach, his eyes on Yulia. Surprised to see such a beauty? Or is he surprised to see a young mother and her son? Is that a shred of humanity I see in the scourge of society? Amusing.
And another possible explanation for the boy’s presence. Though bringing her son to give her an edge in negotiation is probably worse than bringing him to endear herself to me.
“Good afternoon, gentlemen,” Yulia starts, greeting them as if the crowd before her aren’t holding weapons and grim intentions.
“Afternoon, milady,” the bandit leader says gruffly. “There’s no need for things to get nasty—"
“Wait a bit, boss,” one of his lackeys says, cutting him off. Baldy Bandit doesn’t like that. And I don’t like the new speaker. He’s a much better fit for the randy rogue that seduces maidens before robbing their fathers blind, with a passably attractive face and the expected head full of dark hair.
He’s nothing compared to Lancecain, the saintly knight with a face that could make a young lady forget her modesty, but he beats out Mr. Talented, the man who thinks himself the star of his own epic. Though the lackey’s leer ruins his appearance. For me, the man goes from inconsequential to disgusting as he eyes Yulia like a piece of meat.
“Perhaps the little lady would like to pay us another—gah!”
His disgusting suggestion is cut off by a sharp smack to the back of the head, delivered by Baldy.
“Forgive the boy, milady. Does too much thinking with ‘is second brain.”
“I can’t say I’m not offended.”
Baldy dips his head in acknowledgment. “There will be none of that on my watch. We are just here to collect our due and we’ll move on.”
“And how much is your due?”
“Fifty gold pieces. Should be nothing for a fine lady like yourself.”
Nothing, he says. A laborer in my father’s village would be lucky to see ten gold pieces after a year of hard work. After expenses, saints forbid for a whole family, they’d be lucky to put away a few bronze crowns every month. Ten gold is a lifetime’s savings for the average person. It’s not an insignificant amount for quite a few nobles. Having a title doesn’t guarantee money, as I can certainly attest.
This bastard just casually asked for five times that much.
Yulia isn’t happy with the number either. “Surely you jest.”
“I’ve a lot of mouths to feed.”
“I see. Then you see the lives of your men as your responsibility?”
“We may be outlaws but we aren’t savages. Most the time.” He gives the lackey who spoke up before a look, causing the young man to shrink away.
“That’s good. If you were a heartless criminal, I would have felt bad for taking a chance on you. As you say, I am a lady. Perhaps you will recognize at least one of my names. Yulianna Eleanor James. A pleasure to make your acquaintance.”
Baldy’s thick brows furrow. “James? As in…the ducal family?”
“Indeed. My father is the current duke.”
“Do you think we’re scared of your daddy, girl?” the lackey from before asks. “All I hear is you’re worth a lot more than fifty gold.”
“Yes, but your leader hears that I am a daughter from a territory famed for its many and ferocious fighters. He is also wondering if the daughter of the duke would travel from her home unattended. The answer is no. Several master casters are waiting to kill you and all your men. My goodwill is the only thing staying their hands.”
“Horseshit.” The lackey glances between his boss and Yulia, growing more uncomfortable by the second with Baldy’s silence. “Boss?”
“…I don’t see any knights.”
“And if you do, they will be the last thing you see.” Yulia smiles. “Luckily for you, sir, I am traveling with my little boy. This is his first time outside of Victory and I would rather we didn’t have to spill any blood. A reward for your meritorious deeds, no doubt.”
The bandit leader is struggling. He doesn’t want to give up what looks like an easy payday. His brigands also seem ready to pounce, many growing agitated by the lack of action. To back down now will undoubtedly cause friction in his organization.
On the other hand, Baldy seems to be quite familiar with Victory’s reputation and doesn’t want to take the risk that Yulia is telling the truth. Which she is.
“I see we are at a bit of an impasse. As such, I have a proposal.”
I see. Tell them they’re going to die, then make a second suggestion. No matter what she suggests now, it’ll seem reasonable. Downright appealing given the alternative.
“You say it’s your job to fill hungry mouths and so that’s what you shall do. You all will be our guests for the night for a good meal, a drink, and a little conversation. Come morning, we’ll depart as friends and a fine gentleman like yourself would see his friends off safely, wouldn’t you?”
“…we would be honored, milady.”
Huh. That actually went surprising well. When she suggested a meal to stave off a bandit attack, I thought she was mad, but here’s a result, just as she promised. She told him he could either have death or a warm meal and she said it with a confidence that left no room for doubt.
Between the two, it’s obvious which one a sane man would pick. His subordinates don’t agree but Baldy quiets their grumbles with a glare that he sweeps along the crowd.
When they’ve quieted down, he turns back to Yulia. “If you and your escorts would come with us milady, we will show you a good place to camp for the night.”
Unfortunately, I do not get to watch Alana and Kierra’s “conversation”. Yulia convinces me to accompany her out of the carriage. Certainly not as a deterrent. Geneva, who is sitting on the driver’s bench, is more than capable of that. I suppose she wants me to watch her work from up close. I don’t mind. It’s not where I want to be but listening in is a thrill of its own.
I’m surprised Yulia takes Allen though. It’s good for my entertainment, as I suspect Alana would be much less susceptible to Kierra’s charms with the large, innocent eyes of a child watching on, but worrying. The boy isn’t in any danger, unless there’s a cohort of master casters lying in wait, but I’m surprised a mother would take the chance, no matter how remote.
She must be very confident in our abilities, a not altogether unreasonable possibility. Or perhaps she wants me to think she has such confidence in us. An action that makes sense if I look at it from Alana’s perspective of her sister.
Trust begets trust. Such an overbearing gesture of vulnerability would inspire warm feelings in all but the coldest heart. But to risk her son for such a reason? Maybe I’m too trusting when it involves a pretty face, but I can’t imagine such a thing.
The bandits are nothing to speak of, common examples of their kind. Men, most of them young and foolish, stand behind the charismatic leader, distinguishable from the other riff-raff by his place of prominence at the front of the group blocking the road and his nice leather vest.
He isn’t like the bandits in bawdy tales, with a head of lush hair and a charming grin. In fact, he has no hair at all. His rather plain face is made distinctive by a long scar by one eye and his smile is mangled, the expected result of a life of violence and no access to an accomplished healer.
Like the other times I’ve been waylaid by brigands, more of their number lie in wait out of sight. They’ve gone the extra step to block our retreat as well. Measures that will do them no good, as we’ve no intention of running but it speaks to their level of organization. That’s part of my problem with the whole situation. Rat and his bandits were quite organized as well. It says a lot that so many criminals have the leeway to organize.
The leader’s stern expression softens with confusion as we approach, his eyes on Yulia. Surprised to see such a beauty? Or is he surprised to see a young mother and her son? Is that a shred of humanity I see in the scourge of society? Amusing.
And another possible explanation for the boy’s presence. Though bringing her son to give her an edge in negotiation is probably worse than bringing him to endear herself to me.
“Good afternoon, gentlemen,” Yulia starts, greeting them as if the crowd before her aren’t holding weapons and grim intentions.
“Afternoon, milady,” the bandit leader says gruffly. “There’s no need for things to get nasty—"
“Wait a bit, boss,” one of his lackeys says, cutting him off. Baldy Bandit doesn’t like that. And I don’t like the new speaker. He’s a much better fit for the randy rogue that seduces maidens before robbing their fathers blind, with a passably attractive face and the expected head full of dark hair.
He’s nothing compared to Lancecain, the saintly knight with a face that could make a young lady forget her modesty, but he beats out Mr. Talented, the man who thinks himself the star of his own epic. Though the lackey’s leer ruins his appearance. For me, the man goes from inconsequential to disgusting as he eyes Yulia like a piece of meat.
“Perhaps the little lady would like to pay us another—gah!”
His disgusting suggestion is cut off by a sharp smack to the back of the head, delivered by Baldy.
“Forgive the boy, milady. Does too much thinking with ‘is second brain.”
“I can’t say I’m not offended.”
Baldy dips his head in acknowledgment. “There will be none of that on my watch. We are just here to collect our due and we’ll move on.”
“And how much is your due?”
“Fifty gold pieces. Should be nothing for a fine lady like yourself.”
Nothing, he says. A laborer in my father’s village would be lucky to see ten gold pieces after a year of hard work. After expenses, saints forbid for a whole family, they’d be lucky to put away a few bronze crowns every month. Ten gold is a lifetime’s savings for the average person. It’s not an insignificant amount for quite a few nobles. Having a title doesn’t guarantee money, as I can certainly attest.
This bastard just casually asked for five times that much.
Yulia isn’t happy with the number either. “Surely you jest.”
“I’ve a lot of mouths to feed.”
“I see. Then you see the lives of your men as your responsibility?”
“We may be outlaws but we aren’t savages. Most the time.” He gives the lackey who spoke up before a look, causing the young man to shrink away.
“That’s good. If you were a heartless criminal, I would have felt bad for taking a chance on you. As you say, I am a lady. Perhaps you will recognize at least one of my names. Yulianna Eleanor James. A pleasure to make your acquaintance.”
Baldy’s thick brows furrow. “James? As in…the ducal family?”
“Indeed. My father is the current duke.”
“Do you think we’re scared of your daddy, girl?” the lackey from before asks. “All I hear is you’re worth a lot more than fifty gold.”
“Yes, but your leader hears that I am a daughter from a territory famed for its many and ferocious fighters. He is also wondering if the daughter of the duke would travel from her home unattended. The answer is no. Several master casters are waiting to kill you and all your men. My goodwill is the only thing staying their hands.”
“Horseshit.” The lackey glances between his boss and Yulia, growing more uncomfortable by the second with Baldy’s silence. “Boss?”
“…I don’t see any knights.”
“And if you do, they will be the last thing you see.” Yulia smiles. “Luckily for you, sir, I am traveling with my little boy. This is his first time outside of Victory and I would rather we didn’t have to spill any blood. A reward for your meritorious deeds, no doubt.”
The bandit leader is struggling. He doesn’t want to give up what looks like an easy payday. His brigands also seem ready to pounce, many growing agitated by the lack of action. To back down now will undoubtedly cause friction in his organization.
On the other hand, Baldy seems to be quite familiar with Victory’s reputation and doesn’t want to take the risk that Yulia is telling the truth. Which she is.
“I see we are at a bit of an impasse. As such, I have a proposal.”
I see. Tell them they’re going to die, then make a second suggestion. No matter what she suggests now, it’ll seem reasonable. Downright appealing given the alternative.
“You say it’s your job to fill hungry mouths and so that’s what you shall do. You all will be our guests for the night for a good meal, a drink, and a little conversation. Come morning, we’ll depart as friends and a fine gentleman like yourself would see his friends off safely, wouldn’t you?”
“…we would be honored, milady.”
Huh. That actually went surprising well. When she suggested a meal to stave off a bandit attack, I thought she was mad, but here’s a result, just as she promised. She told him he could either have death or a warm meal and she said it with a confidence that left no room for doubt.
Between the two, it’s obvious which one a sane man would pick. His subordinates don’t agree but Baldy quiets their grumbles with a glare that he sweeps along the crowd.
When they’ve quieted down, he turns back to Yulia. “If you and your escorts would come with us milady, we will show you a good place to camp for the night.”
