Heir to the Empire

20. Apricot & Honey - Ethelston

As two new patrons walked into the inn, she looked up, aware that she would have to serve them quickly. Before doing so she looked towards Ethelston "Most of my clientele are members of the Black Knife Syndicate." with that she stood up and proceeded to attend her new clients.

Ethelston took another swig of his drink and admired its contents as he swallowed once more. Though before he could focus on how delicious the contents were, he overheard the new patrons conversation.

"News is Lord Millendahl has been imprisoned by his nephew Ethelston Darke. Apparently, he returned from gods knows where and kicked him off the throne. Not sure the bosses will take to well to it." the first patron commented.

As the innkeeper passed them a tankard each, the second patron replied "Didn't he run away years ago like some coward, surely he will be easy for the bosses to deal with."

'I was only ten winters when it happened' Ethelston thought to himself desperately trying not to rile himself up and blow his cover.

"Rumour has it that he's the Manticore Hunter, so he's not exactly a coward."

"Manticore Hunter my ass, some of these nobles make up stories to make them sound more fearsome than they actually are. Give me five minutes with him and I bet I'd have him begging for his life."

"Doesn't matter if it's true or not, what matters is whether he will continue the agreement with us or if he'll set the city guard to task."

"They wouldn't dare!"

It was obvious that these men were Black Knife Syndicate members, and there was an arrogance about these men that suggested that their organisation ran deep within the heart of Ravenscourt.

Continuing the arrangement with them was out of the question, but an all-out war in the streets would certainly not cement his position as Duke of Ravenscourt.

Suddenly, the two patrons noticed him, both smiling at him before smiling at each other. It wasn't long before they started walking towards Ethelston in a confident manner.

"Hey turnip" the first patron called.

Having been around similar men like this on his travels, Ethelston knew this could end up deadly, but he still wanted to remain anonymous. Leaving his swords in the keep, all he had kept on him was a dagger stuffed in his boot.

Taking a swig of his drink from his left hand, he quickly pulled out his knife and held it on his lap with his right.

"What's a pretty boy like you doing here?" the first patron goaded as they sat at opposite sides of the table to Ethelston.

Ethelston smiled and took a swig of his drink. "Enjoying this fantastic drink. I can't believe I found something so nice here." he responded as innocently as he could.

The second patron smiled and leant forward. "Listen, turnip, this here is Black Knife Syndicate territory. You don't just come here from wherever and drink what you want. There are rules, rules which must be obeyed."

Turnip? Bit of a strange nickname.

"Im sorry, I've been travelling for some time, I'm not aware of these rules you refer to."

The two men looked at each other and smiled.

"Rules are simple, " the first patron commented "You give us a fee, say everything you've got, and we don't cut off all your fingers." he said as he slipped a dulled knife onto the table.

"And your clothes, " the second continued, "they look reasonably good quality, so we'll take them too."

As they were spouting off and attempting to demonstrate their masculinity, Ethelston had already determined that he could kill them both even before they could reach for the dagger. Slicing their throats with such precision that they would be holding their throats in complete shock, desperate to stop the gushes of blood that would undoubtedly cover the table. The desire was great but unnecessary, this had to be resolved as peacefully as possible.