With a worried look, Corco spied out of the window, down onto the streets in front of the Fastgrade rchant Company. Across from his position, the prince found the small crowd which had been standing there for days on end, right on the corner of the street, as they observed anyone who entered or left the place. At this point they didn’t even try to hide anymore. While Corco was focused on them, another man walked past as he ate an apple. Just as he crossed the entrance of the Fastgrade rchants, he threw the half-eaten fruit over his shoulder, into the front yard. At least he had the decency to not aim for one of the windows. A good man.
"So this is supposed to replace our old contract?"
With a sigh, the crown prince turned around to the source of the voice, only to find Dedrick sitting in front of the desk in Corco’s study, leaned over a piece of writing.
"That’s right," the prince answered casually.
"We’re not servants to anyone. We won’t beco your own private army, so you best forget about this new deal of yours."
Upon Dedrick’s rejection, Corco frowned, before he left the window and walked over to take a seat in his chair opposite the rcenary. It seed like persuasion might take a while.
"You won’t be my private army. It says so right in the contract. Once I am ready to leave for the dala Empire in two years, you and your n will accompany . You will stay under my command for five years, help stabilize my rule and train up my own private troops. After that, you get to go back ho with riches and honors. It’s the sa agreent we had before, except it’s more long-term. Where’s the problem?"
"If we’re just hired for a while, then why does it say here that we’re supposed to be your ’warriors’?" Dedrick pointed at one of the items on the agreent, crumpling the paper in the process. Annoyed, Corco snatched the contract from under Dedrick’s finger and tried to smooth out the fresh wrinkles.
"No other way around it. Within the dala Empire, the other nobles would never allow the existence of an independent rcenary army, especially not one filled with foreigners. If you want to fight for , I will have to elevate you and your people into the warrior class, at least for the duration of your stay."
"Wait," the rcenary raised his hand, wide-eyed at the revelation. "Are you saying there are no rcenaries over there? No militia? No conscripts? None?"
Although Dedrick wasn’t strictly speaking correct, there was no reason to bother with too many details for now.
"Not every place is Arcavia, you know? Our customs are our own."
"Yeah, sure, but you’re saying that in your country, I’d need a special status first to die for you. How does that make any sense?"
Corco put away the contract to launch into a proper explanation. He had really hoped to save this explanation for later, but the prince hadn’t expected Dedrick to actually give the contract a proper reading.
"The warriors do more than simply ’die’. In dala, there is a much stricter class system than here. Technically, you would beco part of the walla. They’re warriors; or at least they should be. That gives them great authority, since war itself is revered in my ho country. Every warrior is directly subordinate to one of the noble families, so they take on their nas. Which gives you, my uncouth friend, the great na of Dedrick di Pluritac. Congratulations."
Corco looked up at the rough rcenary with a faked smile. In reply, Dedrick pretended to spit on the expensive carpet. For a few seconds, the n stared at each other, before the prince said "anyways," and continued as if nothing had happened.
"Unlike the commoner castes, a warrior is allowed to enter the inner parts of dalan towns and cities. He can also bear arms openly, which might be important if you want to do the protective work I spend all that money on."
Corco couldn’t hold back his little jab. Dedrick’s n were expensive after all, and with this new contract, their price would only increase further.
"Warriors might also receive training in cultivation techniques, though most families are tight with their secrets. The one I’ve been teaching your n is a simple technique for soldiers, straight from the imperial family. You can consider it a down paynt on the contract," Corco continued.
"Technically, warriors are one of the two noble castes of dala, which ans you get to cut down peasants or anyone else below you with little justification. If it’s a rchant or a craftsman you don’t need to justify anything, actually."
"Sounds like my kind of deal," Dedrick grinned.
"...Forget about the last part. Seriously. And keep your n in check as well. We’re civilized after all, whatever that ans. I won’t have my reputation sared because one of your n lost a dice roll. Oh, and just so you know, there’s... a few downsides to being a warrior too," Corco said as his smile transford into a grin.
"Like what?" Dedrick sat back in his chair, vigilant towards the prince’s next words.
"Well, you’re already cared for by the grace of your master, so why would you need property? Walla can own no land and run no business, which might limit your options a bit. You also get to fight and die in all those glorious dalan wars, while your master, that’s , stays out of the slaughter to engage in more elegant and refined duels."
Corco spat out the last few words as his smile ran away from his face. He wasn’t a big fan of so of his ho’s practices, now less than ever. "Oh, and while they are technically warriors, and though it might sound impolite, a lot of lords will just call their warriors ’servants’. Because that’s what they are, really. Since no one else is allowed into the inner cities or the lords’ mansions, warriors have to take over every job the lords won’t do themselves. Guards, shop keepers, manservants, musicians, courtesans. From the lowest water carrier to the lord’s personal advisor, they get to do almost everything. Aren’t you glad?"
"What, you want my guys to clean your palace? Best be careful or you’ll wake up with an empty treasury and an army on the run," Dedrick barked.
"No need to worry, I won’t have you do actual work. I doubt you or your n are capable of anything beyond wanton slaughter."
Although any other man would have objected to Corco’s dismissive words, the rcenary seed almost proud and didn’t challenge the matter further.
"Okay boss, but if they’re nobles, can you just make us warriors like that? No need to check with anyone?"
At last, Corco’s smile returned once again, pride in his voice.
"I am the crown prince of dala after all. I can na as many warriors as I please, so long as I can pay their salaries... which is exactly the point of our little agreent here."
With a wave of the paper in his hand, Corco turned the conversation back to their contract. However, Dedrick’s frown wouldn’t leave his face, despite the prince’s confident announcent.
"That’s all well and good, but in the end this all sounds like castles in the sky. If we follow you to that country of yours, there’s no proof we’ll get any kind of reward for our work. I an, no offense, but you..." Although the rcenary stopped short in his words, Corco knew what he wanted to imply.
"I was exiled," the exile completed the sentence. Years ago, his status had weighed him down like an anchor, but now, he didn’t mind his forr sha any more. Soon enough, he would leave this godless continent behind and return ho to claim his place, to show everyone who had looked down on him just how wrong they had been to underestimate the emperor’s true heir. "While I may be an exile, I’m still the nominal crown prince. dala isn’t like Arcavia, where we split our countries into a million tiny pieces every ti soone dies. Over in dala, the eldest son almost always inherits the entirety of his father’s estate. That goes doubly for the imperial family. Not once in the almost three centuries of the Pluritac dynasty was the throne not inherited by the eldest son of the house.
"Once the crown prince turns thirty at the latest, it is customary for him to be involved in the day to day politics of the palace, to prepare him for his future role as ruler. In two years, once our new agreent cos into effect, I will be twenty-nine, ready to go ho and demand my birth right. With enough force to be heard, no one will deny . Plus, while the northerners might not like , I will have plenty of support from the southern lords. Even if I ca back a pauper, I would still have a fighting chance, so long as my father supports . However, if you increase your troops to five thousand like our new contract states, and I keep amassing wealth and ships over the next two years, there will be nothing my enemies can do once I return ho."
Self-satisfied, Corco leaned back in his chair. Since he had received his miraculous mories, he had set his goals and spent five years working towards them without rest. Rather than rush things and fail at the final hurdle, he didn’t mind waiting another two years until he was ready. Within that ti, the prince could finish writing the last of his books, collect all the best artisans of the continent and stockpile key resources. Once he had taken power, Corco would use them to kick-start the greatest revolution in human history. However, even with all of his employer’s explanations, Dedrick still didn’t seem convinced.
"What?" the prince asked the still-frowning rcenary. "Don’t worry, you’re not gonna get short-changed even after I succeed. It’s called the Silver Throne for a reason. Once I’m emperor, the amount of money specified in the contract will be chump change to . On the other hand, I’ll have to consider my reputation once I’m back ho, so short-changing you and your guys would be the last thing on my mind. On top of that, even if we were to fail, you’ve seen how well my company operates. Even if, against all odds, we fail to win the crown and have to sail back to Arcavia, I already have more than enough money to fulfill my part of the bargain. You’ll just have to live without the prestige of being a dalan warrior then."
Dedrick thought for a while, before he finally asked the question which had weighed on his mind ever since he had received Corco’s, no, Prince Corcopaca’s offer.
"That’s all well and good, but are you sure this needs to be done? I an, you could just stay here. You’ve already carved out a pretty good life for yourself. You’ve dealt with the Duke too. Since we kicked his ass last year, he hasn’t made a single peep. Why risk everything and on an uncertain throne when things are going so well over here?"
At last Corco understood why Dedrick had hesitated to bring up his concern. He must have expected his employer to be angry at the unsolicited advice. However, the prince had no reason to be annoyed. In the future, he would have to learn to live with so opposition from his subordinates anyways. Thus, Corco took his ti to make Dedrick understand why he was wrong.
"’Going well’? Have you looked outside recently?" the prince raised an eyebrow. "You’ve seen as well as that the city has turned against us. I an for fuck’s sake, we’ve had to board up the windows on the lower floors because people kept throwing them in."
"Didn’t they say you saved the city though? What happened?" the rcenary asked. The reaction of the townsfolk must have been a mystery to Dedrick. It wasn’t to Corco.
"People have short mories, even more so if they owe you. In ti, they’ve forgotten just how they survived the Bornish attack three years ago. Instead, they only see our wealth, and how we buy up more and more of the city. To them, we are the foreign invaders now, no better than Borna. Not to ntion those creepy Joanite Reverers who’ve been coming over from the east. ’Wealth is the sign of a good person,’ they say." Corco scoffed. "Doesn’t that give everyone an excuse to leave morality behind for their own benefits? It’s crazy. No wonder public security keeps going down."
"Still shouldn’t have attacked them in the town square like that." Dedrick interjected. In return, Corco rose from his seat and raised his voice to match.
"I stood up for my beliefs, and I’ll continue to do so in the future. I don’t care if so people dislike the truth. The people of Etra need a good dose of reality damn it!"
"And now they hate you," the rcenary concluded with his usual dry voice.
At last, the prince cald down again. After a second of introspection, he continued in a somber tone.
"Yes, now they hate . And it won’t get any better at this point. I an, let’s face it: I’m not an Arcavist anyways, which is already close to a death sentence in this ti of religious conflict. Both sides assu that I belong to the others, and both sides have a problem with ."
A knock on the door interrupted Corco’s explanation. Soon after, Brym entered the study. From a precocious brat, his ward had grown into a proper young man over the past few years, although he had retained his chubby physique sohow.
*Too much sugar, the prince thought. Best leave that stuff in Arcavia.*
"Big Bro," the stocky rchant said. "It’s a letter addressed to you. The seal on front looks kinda like your necklace, so I thought it was important."
Without a word, Corco took the letter and looked at the front, at the symbol of the Triquetra, the official sign of his family. With a swift motion from a dagger on his desk, he opened the seal. The letter unfurled, the prince began to read while he finished up his previous conversation with Dedrick.
"As for Herak, I don’t believe for a second that the guy will stay still. Yes, he may have lost the support of the other Bornish nobles and has taken a heavy hit to his reputation, but he’s still one of the richest n in the south. That guy won’t give up so fast. Expect a reaction sooner rather than later. No, I won’t be any safer here if I stay around. It’s best to take whatever I can and... prepare..."
When Corco first began to read the letter written in the language of his ho country, he was still focused on finishing his thoughts. However, as he droned on, he began to identify the now unfamiliar script of his forr ho. Soon after, he also decoded the outrageous contents on the paper in his hands. Confused, the prince’s words trailed off, fully focused on the writing. Dedrick, Brym, Arcavia, the prince forgot everything around him as he stared at the letter in his hands.
At last, after he had read the words three tis, enough to erase any misunderstandings, he looked back up, into the worried eyes of his companions. With shaking hands, he tilted the dagger, to see his own ashen complexion within the reflection. After the blade had fallen back down with a clang, the crown prince of dala explained himself to the n before him. His voice was dull, sapped of all emotions.
"My father is dead. I need to go ho."
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