Castle Blackfield was in quite a state of lawlessness after the arrest of the wounded Baldrick Gaule. Captain Noc and twenty Brukalil soldiers infiltrated the Healer's ward and took the heir to Toad Keep away on a stretcher. Luckily, Baldrick's ten guards knew better than to try to cross swords with the legendary Brukalil. The finest foot soldiers from around the kingdom all in one highly trained unit, second only to the knights for their skill in battle. Many considered them better soldiers than knights. Though they protested, they stepped aside when Bartera the Terror drew her large, single-bladed blade.
Prince Tauron's order to detain the son of Desmond Gaule made everyone fear the city would break out in fighting. A good portion of the visitors to the Festival of Steel were from the swamplands, and if there was one thing they liked to do, it was fight. And there were several. A crowd of fifty charged the Brukalil soldiers defending the tower where Baldrick was held, resulting in three dead and sixteen injured. Two of the injured were Brukalil soldiers.
Later in the day, they charged again, this time it was ten dead and ten injured. With the body count rising, Prince Tauron ordered a curfew, and for Baldrick to be moved to a location inside Castle Blackfield itself. That did not stop the Swampland folk from gathering in a big group around dusk and going on a rampage through the town. Inns were torched, animals let loose or slaughtered. Nearly a third of Blackfield village was either damaged or burnt by the time the first night was over. And the next day, smoke rose above Soot City in places other than the forges.
"You've unleashed hell on Blackfield!" Helg Velrock shouted at Prince Tauron after he had been given a report of the damage, "You've turned a time of festivities into a riot!"
"I did what I had to do."
"What you had to do? What exactly warranted kidnapping Baldrick? Do you have no idea how much the Swamp people adore him. They love him more than his father!"
"That does not sound like much."
"And now you expect Lord Desmond Gaule to just march with you to Raingaurd is that right?"
"Yes, it is," Tauron spoke plainly, as if it were just another day.
"Your father will be furious! My father will be furious! Everyone will be furious at you!" Helg exclaimed, "I'm furious with you! I was going to come and congratulate you on your wedding, but this! Now I doubt Lord Dayvey will hand over his daughter to you."
"He will. You know him. He'd die to have royal grandchildren. Besides this will all die down when we march. We'll defeat the Morcars, I'll release Baldrick, and I'll marry Lisa Dayvey. Not much to it, old friend."
"Not much to it?" Helg said, "Desmond Gaule is an Archbaron! One of the most powerful men in Forthren if not all of Liticea!"
"I'm aware of that, my father taught countless lessons."
"You know," Helg gave up, "Do as you please. You want to squander your campaign, go right ahead."
Many eyes and blades were aimed towards Julius the Black as he rode into the Userian encampment. They all recognized the black sun of the man who had defeated their leader. Clearly the riots of the previous day had gotten them scared, for they were nearly half a mile outside the village and there were many guards on their camp's perimeter. A horseman came to meet him, with a long spear and a look in the eye to match. Judging by the man's bright red robes and feathered collar he was a man of great importance in this company.
"Where does the Black Sun go?" he spoke to Julius with a heavy accent that somehow made him sound both dim-witted and threatening.
"I want to speak with Nazeen. On behalf of Prince Tauron, heir to the King of Liticea and all her holdings," Julius said loudly so that all around could hear.
"What does the Black Sun speak about?"
"A proposal from the Prince. He wishes to hire your company."
Talk began to flow from the mercenaries, "We have Proposal. We work for Saud."
"The Prince is willing to pay you twice what Saud paid you," Julius said with a wink, "And he has sent me to discuss terms."
The big Userian did not say anything, but his eyes widened enough to let Julius know that he was enticed by what he heard.
"Come."
Julius followed the man deeper into camp until they came upon a tent that was twice as large as the others and with about a hundred more colors. By the time they got a large crowd of the warriors was following him. Tauron ordered him to go alone to not be too threatening.
"Here. Inside."
They both dismounted, and there horses were taken care of. The big Userian led him through the open drapes and inside. The smell of incense hit Julius like a war hammer and he almost lost control of himself coughing. The tent was a maze of exotic tapestries of every color and of every shape. They were in the shapes of lions, elephants and other creatures Julius did not recognize. They were of mountains, sunsets and the vast open ocean. Julius often told Helg that he would like to see the open ocean before he died.
The Big Userian led him through and then stopped. In a pile of fine silk pillows lay the lean form of Nakbar Nazeen. A women was in each of his arms and a serving boy stood over him with a cup of wine. A few words of Userian were exchanged and Nakbar's eyes turned to Julius. The eyes darkened with the same intensity that Julius saw during their fight. He spoke a few words, and the big man, the serving boy, and the two women left him alone. He was shirtless and his body was like a marble structure form Spartica. He wrapped himself in a red and black robe and finally spoke to the Knight.
"The Black Sun returns to me," he said in a very well-spoken accent, "Do you wish to kill me this time? I could go for a rematch, give that scar on your chin some company."
"I did not come to fight you, Nazeen."
"No. Armar says that you bring a proposal from the Prince. Is this this true?" he said standing up and pouring himself a cup of wine. He offered some to Julius but he politely declined.
"The Prince wishes to hire your company."
"Does he? Well, I regret to tell you that me and my friends are currently employed. By Arhan Saud if you have forgotten."
"I have not forgotten. And the Prince is offering double what Mr. Saud paid you."
Nakbar raised one of his thin eyebrows. It was cut from the middle to just above the eyelid, "Is he now. Does he think he can so willingly get me to throw myself against the Morcars?"
"The Morcars?"
"Don't play dumb with me, Julius the Black. The only reason you Litici would even consider hiring me is because you do not have enough little pink men. The Prince wants my swords to fight the Morcars. We know of them, Julius the Black. The word has spread all the way south: a great terror from the west is laying waste to your country. Must be very distressing for your poor Prince."
"Tauron has the situation well under control."
"Which is why he decided to imprison the Frogman's son. Not a bad idea. Nothing motivates more than the death of a family member."
"Baldrick will not die. He told me himself."
"And one of my former emplyers down south promised me a castle if I took Aria Asiah for him. He went back on that promise, and now his head us rotting somewhere out in the desert. Don't put too much faith in men's words, Julius the Black. It is a man's purse that never lies."
"Well, here in Liticea we hold people to their promises. It's called honor to keep the promises you make."
"I held him to his too. And now he is dead. I suppose I'm quite an honorable man by your standards."
"I would never sell my sword for money."
"And what do you sell it for?"
"My Lord, my king, and my country."
"Lords, Kings, Countries," Nakbar repeated, "All finite things. The only thing that is forever is money. Whether gold, silver, or a woman's touch. Money is always there, if you have the skills people want. In Useria, the most value a man has is his skill at killing. You would make a fine sell sword. Perhaps you should come back with me and we can be partners."
"Partners?"
"Yes. Unlike most of the cows in this country, I have respect for you. I respect men who can kill me. It is what has kept me alive when others have perished."
"Yet you work for Arhan Saud. No offense to him but he is not the warrior type.'
"Yes, if a man can't fight he uses his wealth to hire people to fight for him. It's the way it works in Useria."
"But somehow the Prince's offer is not appealing to you?"
"No. Because unlike you knights, I value my life more than anything else, and I know a suicide mission when I see one. I don't know much of these Morcars, but I do know that there is a lot of them, few of us, and few of you. My men and I are only two thousand strong. What can we do?"
"You can defend a keep."
"Yes, we can."
"The Prince does not seek to meet the Morcars in the field. We are marching to Riangaurd, a Keep that has stood strong since the First Empire. Two thousand good men could hold it off against ten thousand. The Prince's army will be twenty thousand by the day's end and will be twenty-five when we reach the Westland. March with us, and we will become a super force. Not to mention we will have what remains of the armies of the Westland, and so the number of soldiers can only go up. To even have a chance, the Morcars must have an army of one hundred thousand. Ask yourself, Nakbar Nazeen: Who will have the advantage come battle?"
"Advantage of hiding behind walls. But for what? So the Morcars can sit outside whilst you starve in there," Nakbar asked. Julius knew that this man would be no fool, "In war you cannot win with just defense, Julius the Black. You're eventually going to have to come out and face them, or enjoy eating your own dead once a year or two has passed."
"But that will not happen," Julius said proudly.
"Oh, do tell."
"The Westland is huge and to get there the Morcars had to go through leagues of dense forest, which yield little to no food. And so thy have very long supply lines. Supply lines that barely deliver anything, so they must live off the Westland. Once the Westland is depleted, there will be no food and they will starve long before us."
"Ah, a war of attrition!"
"Exactly!"
"Not really my kind of fighting. I prefer to look my death in the face, not wait for it to slowly creep up from my belly," Nakbar explained.
"I see,' Julius did not know what else to say, "So there is no way to convince you?"
"In Useria, if someone wants something badly they sweeten the deal," Nakbar winked.
"How would you sweeten it?"
"Triple what Arhan Saud promised us. That will be worth any war of attrition or bellyaches."
Julius smiled there might actually be a chance now, "I will take it up with the Prince."
"Triple, and me and my company are yours."
"I'll deliver your terms," just as he was about to walk out he turned back.
"Nakbar, before I go I must ask you something.'
"What is it?"
"When we fought in the tournament, did you fight at your best, or did you let me win as some sort of compensation for injuring Baldrick Guale?"
Nakbar gave him a strange look. It was not the look that he gave when they fought it out in the arena, but rather as if he was looking as Sir Julius as a respected equal.
"You Litici and your honor. I suppose in your mindset it would be appropriate. I injure some poor boy and put an end to his fighting days and I repay that by surrendering the title of champion," looking around at the tapestries as he spoke, he walked with the elegance and the composure of a dancer.
"But, I do not have that idea. The answer you're looking for, Julius the Black is no. When we fought, you fought all that Nakbar Nazeen had to offer, and you beat him. For doing that, you have earned my respect and my gratitude for showing me that I still had much to learn," when he finished, Nakbar held out his hand to the knight.
Julius looked at it and back at the Userian's face. It was a face as sincere as he never seen before, aside from probably his father or Helg. Oddly, this man who killed for a living and mocked the honor by which Julius lived by was looking more like a friend than an enemy. The cut on his chin felt none-existent as the Black Sun reached out and shook Nakbar Nazeen's hand.
"And you have my respect, Nakbar Nazeen."
"Very good. May we fight again sometime and prove our qualities once more."
Julius smiled, "May we so. One more thing if I may ask?"
"Yes?"
"You're awfully well spoken for a common mercenary."
Nazeen laughed, "Yes, I'm sure you think we all are illiterate brutes. I grew up in a monastery. They taught me reading, writing and all that other stuff."
"Which monastery?"
"The Kaloh Nivi, way to the south past Cargho and Xaro. Left it about fifteen years ago. Don't even know if its still there."
"I see. Well, goodbye. I'll see on the march."