Ignoring History - Ranger's Apprentice Fanfiction

Chapter 32

Chuckling, Halt leaned back as nonchalantly as possible. "I'm sure my lord has plenty of other things to do than learning an assassin's choice of beverage."

"Oh?" said Morgarath. "Did you have something in mind?"

Halt hummed to himself, cocking his head to his size. A knife appeared in his hand, his elbow leaning on the armrest of his chair. He spun the weapon around lazily, watching Morgarath carefully. His expression was unreadable.

"How much did you say you'd pay me?" Halt said. "Five hundred gold royals, was it?"

Morgarath smirked. He popped the wine bottle open to pour himself another glass. "We're similar people, you and I, Arratay," he said. "Always looking for ways to profit."

Halt leaned forward, gripping onto his knife so that it stopped spinning. He brought his hand down, pushing the blade into the table. If Morgarath was angry at the damage he had done, he didn't show it. "Then you would understand," Halt said, "why I will ask you to raise my payment to eight hundred royals in exchange for some extra information."

Morgarath narrowed his eyes. He sipped at his wine. "What kind of information?" he said.

"Oh, I think you'll find it very interesting, my lord. You see, it has something to do with... the rangers."

Halt could feel the change in the air even if Morgarath showed almost no sign of weakness. His face was the same, pale like the ghost of death itself, sharp and hardened. His eyes didn't waver, unbreakable blue. He sat in a stunned silence, sipping at his wine to cover up his hesitation.

He laughed a low rumble. "Good try," he said, "but I'm afraid three hundred extra gold royals is far too much for mere information."

Halt frowned. "Seven hundred, then," he said.

"Five hundred fifty," Morgarath countered. He drummed his fingers on his desk. "Take it or leave it."

"Seven hundred." Halt repeated firmly. "No less."

Morgarath stared at Halt, the corners of his lips tugging upwards. "I like you, Arratay," he said. "You drive a hard bargain."

"Is that a deal?" Halt said.

"How about," Morgarath said, "you start working for me."

Halt blinked. He sucked in a breath slowly. He raised an eyebrow. "I'm listening," he said.

"I think it would be favorable for the both of us that you become my personal... ah, soldier, per se. Of course, you'll receive a monthly payment from myself. Maybe you'll even get extra every successful job you perform." Morgarath paused. He set his glass down, bending forward. He met Halt's eyes. "I can make you a very rich man, you know. You'll live a good life. Good food, good home, good coffee. You don't have to go back to your abysmal cave, anymore. You can live a life of luxury right here. You just have to work for me."

To any other person, that would have sounded appealing. It was an opportunity for a good, stable life. But Halt knew better. He knew Morgarath was looking for a way to keep his coin.

"I suppose I can consider it," Halt said. He pulled his knife out of the table. "I'm not sure I would like losing my ability to roam free."

"Oh, I think you'll find my conditions much more advantageous." Morgarath stood up, waving his hand to dismiss him. "Think about it," he said.

Standing, Halt sheathed his knife. "I will," he said.

"Good, good." Morgarath moved towards the door. "Ask for a servant," he said. "I have a room prepared for you. I shall await your decision."

"Thank you."

Opening the door, Morgarath straightened in surprise. Halt crossed his arms. A courier stood on the other side, his fist raised.

"My lord!" he gasped. "I was just about to knock."

"What do you want?" Morgarath said.

"I have a letter!" he said. "From our associates in the west."

"Is that so?" Morgarath mused. He opened the door wider for the courier to enter. Glancing at Halt, he nodded. "I'm afraid I have other business to attend to," he said. "I'll call for you soon."

Halt bowed. "Yes, of course, my lord," he said. "Have a good day."

Halt sighed as the door closed behind him. He ran a hand through his choppy hair, gulping. Shutting his eyes for a split second, he shook his head and breathed in. He had made good progress today. Morgarath seemed to like him, and he appeared to be convinced that Baron Arald was truly dead. All he had to do now was steer his attention away from Crowley and Gilan. Nodding at himself, he turned around and called out to a servant to find his room.

After that meeting, he had some things to think about.