"So, Werdas, would you happen to have a copy of The Radiance that I could read? I do not wish to be alone tonight in my cold bed," said Gerran loudly, undoubtedly for Aerham's benefit.
Aerham rode in silence as the three men burst into laughter for the fifth time. He had control of his anger. Let them laugh. They were nothing to him. He would be a Brother of the Sun soon and he would show them what it meant to live by the teachings of the Lady of Light, and woe to them if they chose to stray from the path then.
"There is a farm ahead on the left, I think," Gendis said uncertainly. "We can ask there."
What would a farmer know about finding a woman for Uth Garenthil? Likely every man back at the inn would have known. Aerham didn't ask questions, though. He only watched Gendis dismount, knock on the door of a small cottage, and speak with a balding, elderly man in a nightshirt before climbing back on his horse.
"We're in luck," Gendis announced. "Just down the road a bit. A camp follower."
Gerran and Werdas laughed together.
Aerham followed. He didn't like either of the bannermen, or Gendis. He wanted to punch them in the face each time they laughed. He wanted to punch them in the face when they weren't laughing, too.
"I wish I was a lord," Werdas mumbled. "Or even a Brother." And he laughed alone. "I buy one woman and I'm broke for a month."
"Maybe you should be a farmer," Gerran suggested. "Then you can have as many cows and sheep as you like and not spend a copper."
"I said woman," Werdas corrected. "Besides, I wouldn't be content to bed your sister and cousins like that."
"Trust me," Gendis added. "I've seen the women you buy. Best stick to cows and sheep and save a few coppers."
The three laughed again.
Aerham was sick of their company and he hated Uth Garenthil for sending him with them. He no longer cared if they bought a prostitute. He was tempted to ride back to the camp and leave them to their filth. Yet, something about the way they laughed bothered him. The whole situation bothered him.
Aerham followed them down the road, veering through a barren field toward a soft, yellow glow marking a home. Aerham could barely make it out in the darkness; a small wooden building, which may have had three or four rooms and a good size for struggling farmers. There were many such homes on his father's lands. They were hard working folk.
"Keep an eye on him," Gendis said to the two bannermen. "I suspect he will be trouble. I wish the Lying had sent him back to camp." His companions snickered.
Aerham felt his pulse rush. Why would they have to watch him? He had not been trouble so far, had he? No, they knew they were doing something wrong. They knew he would not approve. Uth Garenthil wanted him to see whatever it was, though. Was it to teach him? Or out of spite?
Gendis blended into the darkness and Aerham squinted to find him again.
"Hail, friends," Gendis called out. "I am here by the authority of the good senators of Saroken. I am representative of Uth Garenthil the Lion, of the Fortress of Light, Brother of the Sun, and Slayer of Giants. I bid thee open the door and permit me to speak with the master of the house."
Werdas and Gerran burst into stifled chuckles.
Aerham realized that Gendis had said 'the Lying' instead of the 'the Lion' while speaking the titles.
The front door opened a crack and lantern light cut a wedge from the night. A tall man in his forties peeked out before opening the door fully. He wore a plain brown shirt which hung to his knees. His belt was fastened over the shirt, brown pants barely visible where the shirt ended and his knee-high boots began. He held a sturdy broad sword in his right hand, tip resting on the floor. The man didn't look pleased, but he listened to Gendis in silence, nodding.
Aerham wondered if they were haggling over the price of a prostitute. The man appeared to be a farmer and nothing more, holding his sword like a shovel. He could not imagine how rough the prostitutes would look that such a man could manage.
Gendis held out his open hand, palm up. The yellow light made it difficult to be sure, but Aerham thought the coins were silver. The farmer accepted them with a frown, disappearing into his house, leaving Gendis at the open door.
"He went straight to the coin this time," Gerran whispered in amazement.
"Yes, I thought he was going to use the 'lure the father away' trick again. All of that extra coin is making them lazy," explained Werdas. "And no fun."
"I wish they'd throw some my way." Gerran laughed, and Werdas quickly joined in.
Aerham knew they weren't here for a camp follower, or some regular from the local brothel. His hand closed tightly over the hilt of his sword. He didn't know what he would do, if his fears were proven true. What could he do? They had said something about luring a father away. That meant there was a child.
A woman's voice protested within the cottage, followed by a man's stern voice. Then silence.
Gendis turned and nodded to the men on horseback. He faced the open doorway again and took a knee, beckoning to something or someone.
Gerran and Werdas dismounted and turned to face Aerham. Gerran placed his hands on his hips and Werdas crossed his arms.
Aerham took a deep breath, moving the hand from his hilt to the pommel of his saddle. With his heart racing, he sat still in the darkness. The two bannermen were clearly waiting for him to act and were prepared to pounce on him. He hated Uth Garenthil for putting him in this situation. He likely couldn't physically overcome the three young men without using his sword; and that would raise the stakes dramatically. He was certain in a contest of swords, he could best all three of these louts at once. Although, they likely had a chance at winning if it were three versus one.
The farmer appeared in the doorway; a skinny, young girl held before him. She couldn't be older than fourteen, and was likely younger. When her sleepy eyes realized he was pushing her to Gendis, she began to wail and tried to run, but the Initiate grabbed her, pulling her through the doorway by the arm.
Gendis struggled to hold her. She screamed and kicked. The farmer had to spin in the doorway to restrain his wife. She was a stout woman and likely more than Gendis could handle.
Gerran and Werdas tensed, still facing Aerham, no doubt ready for him to act.
This was all wrong. This was not the Light of the Blessed Lady. This was not an act of servants of Ravyneira. This was a crime. Even if the father was accepting payment and apparently consented for whatever reason, it was wrong. Yes, Aerham knew lords took their pleasures on a whim, doing what they chose, but such things weren't the actions of a Brother of the Sun. This just couldn't be happening.
"Don't do anything foolish," Gerran said calmly, though his voice hinged on fear. "It's the right of the nobility. Her father was paid good coin, besides."
"We could have just taken her for free," Werdas pointed out and tapped his sword hilt.
Aerham forced a soft laugh. His mouth was dry and he gripped the pommel of his saddle with both hands to hide the shaking. It almost seemed he had heard someone else laugh, as if he were witnessing the scene through the eyes and ears of someone else. If this was a nightmare, he wished he would wake up soon.
"Why didn't you just tell me what we were doing? My father and I used to do this all of the time," Aerham said, watching the tension drain from the two bannermen. He dismounted, and while approaching the two men, added, "I wouldn't have given them a single copper coin, though. Well, if the girl was good, I might give something."
Aerham laughed and the two bannermen laughed with him. He punched Gerran in the face and felt the nose crunch under the blow. Choking on his laugh, the man landed flat on his back.
Werdas took a step backward but couldn't react before Aerham's fist struck his jaw. The next swing connected with his nose and he joined Gerran on the ground.
Aerham stormed toward Gendis, who still struggled with his prize.
"Give me a hand," Gendis pleaded, dragging the girl toward the horses. He had clearly mistaken Aerham for someone else.
Aerham stopped in the light from the doorway, making no effort to hide his anger or contempt, but kept his hand away from his hilt.
Gendis saw his face and then looked past him for help. He let go of the girl and tried to put his arm up to block, but Aerham's fist crashed into his nose. Already off-balance, Gendis was driven to the ground by the blow.
The young girl sprinted through the doorway to her mother, throwing her arms around the thick skirts.
Gendis held a hand over his face and reached for his sword with the other.
Aerham's steel flashed from its scabbard and he placed the point of his blade between Initiate's eyes, a finger's width away, tempted to cut them farther apart. The metal caught the yellow light from the doorway. Having been crafted in Laemyn by the legendary sword-smiths there, the edge was as sharp as a razor, though many would say sharper.
"What is wrong with you?" Gendis demanded, slowly releasing his hilt, allowing his blade to slide back into the scabbard. "Are you so lost in Garenthil's make-believe stories that you can't see the real world?" He wiped blood from his nose with his sleeve. "This is ridiculous."
Aerham's sword trembled in his hands. It was anger raging through his veins. He spun sideways as Gerran and Werdas approached from behind. He held his sword toward the bannermen and both put their hands up defensively and began backing away. None of them wanted to test themselves against his skill. They had all sparred many times in the training yard. And, they've all likely been drinking.
"Good wallop there," Werdas nodded respectfully, rubbing his jaw. "I owe you one." He frowned at the sword. "Not tonight, I guess."
"Garenthil sent us here to do this. You are disobeying the orders of a superior," Gendis informed, climbing to his feet and brushing the dust from his white tunic. "Garenthil was right. You're an idiot."
Aerham clenched the hilt of his sword as hard as he could. His forehead tingled and beads of sweat caught the cool night air. The Brotherhood of Light was dedicated to Ravyneira and the people whom she protected. A Brother of the Sun should be pious and valiant, not bedding young girls against their will. The Lady of Light should strike them all down for their blasphemy!
"You can tell Garenthil why he is sleeping alone tonight." Gendis turned toward the open doorway and started to speak to the father, but after a glance at Aerham, he offered, "Keep the coin. It'll likely come from this fellow's allowance."
Gendis huffed loudly, stomping to his horse and climbing into the saddle. His expression was lost to the night, but with venom he added, "Maybe you can share Garenthil's bed with him instead. You get to be with your hero and no wrongs are done."
Aerham released a deep breath to steady his nerves. Uth Garenthil was not his hero. At least, not anymore.
Gerran and Werdas climbed on their horses and the three men rode away. The sound of hooves beating the ground faded into the night.
Aerham looked to the father and the man's face dropped in shame. The mother, a husky woman with a large frame, repeatedly uttered thanks to Aerham, holding her daughter buried against the front of her skirts.
"You may sleep in peace the rest of this night," Aerham promised. The heat left his face and the night suddenly felt cold. "Keep that coin for your suffering. No soldier will trouble you. I shall see to that."
Aerham walked through the darkness to his horse, scratching the side of its head with the fingertips of one hand while flexing the fingers of his other hand, the knuckles of that hand throbbed. He tied the reins to a small tree, and then he sat cross-legged before the house, facing away, sword across his lap.
Whispers carried from the doorway before the worn hinges groaned and the lantern light was cut off.
Aerham sat in the darkness. Perhaps that is where he belonged. It was certainly where he wanted to be at the moment.
While growing up, Aerham had heard Uth Garenthil's stories at his father's dinner table. The man had told many tales of his own heroics. In fact, he had told too many stories for one lifetime. They had been believable because Aerham had been a child when he had heard them. It was unlikely that any man could kill four giants at once, or twenty beastmen. How would a beautiful maiden come to be a prisoner in the frontier to begin with? Gendis had called Uth Garenthil's stories make-believe in a manner that made it seem so matter-of-fact. If all of the Uth Garenthil's stories had been lies, then that would make the Brother no more than a selfish, pompous liar. Aerham recalled how so many others had referred to the man as Uth Garenthil the Lying. Gendis said there hadn't been a campaign into the Faraway Hills or Murdered Lands in twenty years, yet Uth Garenthil had an endless supply of stories of his conquests in those lands. Everything Gendis said seemed to fit. And it only made Aerham hate Gendis for being right and Uth Garenthil for being a liar.
Whether or not his stories were true, Uth Garenthil still liked to bed young girls against their will. When the sun rose, Aerham would ride back to town and kill the man. It was that simple. Uth Garenthil was a despicable man and a disgrace to the Brotherhood. Why had the Blessed Lady allowed such scum to masquerade as one of her Brothers? Perhaps, she would hurl lightning from the sky and deal with Uth Garenthil herself before it was all over. If so, she would have to do it before Aerham found him or she would lose her chance.
The sound of hooves beating the soil neared from Aerham's left and abruptly stopped.
"I can't see," came a loud whisper, undoubtedly Gerran. "It looks like he left."
"I told you if we waited a few minutes, he'd ride back to town crying," Gendis said loudly, laughing.
"He's lucky he left," Werdas chimed.
Aerham climbed to his feet, expecting his pulse to roar, but it didn't. He wore his anger like armor; it was there, but only on the outside. He had been afraid of harming anyone before, not sure what to do. This time, if these three wanted to fight, he intended to use his sword. If they died, it would be trying to perform an immoral deed, liberating Aerham of any wrongdoing. He drew his blade from its scabbard, intentionally filling the night with unmistakable scraping leather and ringing metal. He twirled his sword before him in a pattern of large and small circles, the blade whirling and cutting the air.
"What if I didn't leave?" Aerham grimly asked to the darkness and steadied his blade before him, feeling the heat rise across his face. He took a deep breath and his heart sensed the danger finally. He didn't know if the Brotherhood would charge him with a crime if he killed them in a sword fight. The Lord of Light, Uth Arthgrin, would be shocked to hear of the vile deeds of his followers, for certain.
"The Dark take him," Gendis cursed. "He is stubborn."
"It's not worth the fight, I don't think."
"Let's just get twenty or thirty soldiers. He would have to give up then."
"No," Gendis surrendered. "He would just fight them all and it would irritate me if he won. Oh well, let's go. We are missing the drinking. Uth Garenthil will deal with him if he comes back."
The three horses faded into the distance.
Aerham stood there listening, studying the darkness, to be sure no one had stayed behind to jump him. He heard and saw no one. After a few moments he was satisfied they had gone. If they returned, it would be because Uth Garenthil had forced them. Aerham would attack without hesitation, knowing what their orders would be.
Aerham sat cross-legged before the farmhouse again, offering a prayer to the Lady of Light. He asked that She continue to watch over his father and betrothed and provide guidance.
The only response was the chirping of insects in the night.