Chapter 10: The General's Bargain - 2

Stepping back into the main room, Ferene found the other two sitting at the table now. Amelia stood up, turning to face them. “So, what conclusion did you come to?”

“She doesn’t know anything about what is going on so she can’t mean us any harm.”

Frowning, Amelia leaned back against the table. “What should we do with her?”

Tullund chuckled. “I’m going to take her with me to finish fixing the fence.”

“Seeing you back there really surprised me.” He said as they walked. “I didn’t expect to ever see you again.”

Ferene stayed silent. Tullund had collected tools from a shed, and given several to Ferene to carry. She held a shovel in each hand, while he carried a hammer and several flat pieces of wood.

“At the house, I was thinking that you talk more than you used to, but as soon as we started walking you went entirely silent again.”

She remembered this. He would talk as he walked. It was annoying. Velan had fidgeted at first, but stopped after a short conversation. Tullund seemed to constantly think of new things to say to her.

“It is amusing, to find you here on a farm, in the end. Doing work on the farm, as well. You were very vocal about not wanting to be a farmer.”

Rilya, of course, also didn’t talk to her. Her family had talked amongst themselves, letting Ferene stay silent. It seemed that only Tullund was so insistent on having a conversation with her. Even without getting a response he continued.

“I sold my bow, after you left. I considered it something I owed to you, for helping me.”

“You traveled here unarmed?” She suddenly asked.

“I bought space on a caravan.” He replied, not showing any sign of surprise at her choice to finally speak. “They had armed guards, and we didn’t run into any trouble anyway. A slow and uneventful trip.”

Ferene nodded, though as he was walking in front of her, Tullund did not see it. The single response seemed to satisfy him, as they walked in silence the rest of the way to the edge of the farm, where he showed her the fence in question.

A simple wooden structure, evenly spaced posts with two boards across them, marking some line Ferene could not see. Several posts were bent horribly, the holes loosened and the boards barely holding on.

“I put it up like this but we need to take it back down and do it properly. Fix the holes so the posts are straight, then put new panels on.” Setting his items down, he held out a hand to Ferene. “Two of us, two shovels. Shouldn’t take long.” She handed him a shovel, and they got to work.

When Tullund had something to do, aside from walking, he was focused and silent. Ferene watched him expand the first hole, and then went and copied what he did further down. The digging went by fast. He then took over and finished it, reseating the posts and then hammering the new boards into place on top of the old ones. Ferene stood and watched him as he worked, suddenly remembering when he appeared in her dream.

Shaking her head, Ferene decided that he was far too annoying to be intimate with. As much as she missed her family, missed Rilya, she did not want to spend more time with Tullund, especially if he talked that much. The version of him in her dream was much quieter.

“Done.” He announced, standing up. “Let’s get back, and then find something else to do until it’s time for dinner.”

Apparently he had decided she was joining them for dinner. Ferene picked up the shovels and followed after him.

Once more, Tullund talked, describing his journey south and how he met Ameila. Ferene didn’t pay attention, since it seemed that he would talk regardless. He talked even more than she remembered. He was happier than she remembered, as well. Perhaps those two things were related.

As they approached the house, both of them stopped, noticing the problem at the same time. The front door was open, leaning at an odd angle, broken. Ferene suddenly realized, once again, that she had no weapons aside from the Hatharen dagger. Tullund didn’t have anything either. All they had were shovels. Ferene held one out to him, and when he took it she dropped the other, pulling out her dagger. She trusted the weapon over the digging tool, regardless of any advantage in range it might offer. Slowly, the two advanced.

Their attempt at stealth turned out to be useless. Once they got closer, someone walked out the door, yelling at them. “That’s enough!” The man wore the same armor Ferene had seen back in the army’s camp, and he pulled Ameila, bound at the wrists, out the door after him, pushing her against the wall. In his other hand he held a sword, and pointed it at the woman’s back.

“This is going to be very simple. The two of you get on your stomachs and crawl the rest of the way over here, or I very, very slowly start cutting up this girl.”

Tullund immediately dropped his shovel and laid on the ground, but Ferene stayed on her feet, taking another step forward, dagger in hand.

“I said GET ON THE GROUND!” The soldier yelled, raising the sword higher, pushing the tip against Ameila’s shoulder. Ferene stared at him and didn’t stop walking. She saw red stain the girl’s clothes, but kept walking.

“Ferene, please…” She heard Tullund’s voice behind her. If he had his bow this would have been easily solved.

Lowering his sword, the man spun his captive around, pushing her against the railing. Ferene saw her face, her eyes red from sobbing. She was gagged, but the soldier removed that. “Scream. Let her know how much it hurts.” He said, shoving his finger against the cut on her back.

“He killed Garvin!” She yelled. “He’ll kill you b-“ Her warning was cut off as the blade of the soldier’s sword burst from her chest.

Ferene specialized in running, and she crossed the space between her and the front deck of the house in a matter of seconds, dagger in hand. Letting Ameila’s corpse fall, he leaped to the ground, bloodied sword ready to meet her charge.

With her momentum and short weapon, Ferene was at his mercy. As the soldier brought his blade up to intercept, Ferene twisted, throwing herself to the side and barely avoiding getting impaled. Her boots slid on the loose dirt as she came to a stop, the man turning to face her.

Anger took over her. Taradira’s soldiers followed her and killed innocent people. For what? Why send her here? Behind the soldier, she saw Tullund standing up, shovel in hand. He wanted to live in peace as a farmer. She laughed to herself, drawing a strange look from her opponent. If Tullund wanted a life where he didn’t have to kill, Ferene would just do it for him.

Again, she moved, running in. Predictably, the soldier brought his sword up, trying to stab her before she got in range. Holding her dagger in front of her, Ferene gently pushed the sword to the side, throwing its wielder off-balance. The fight ended shortly after, Ferene thrusting the blade into the man’s eye, penetrating his brain.

Ameila was dead. Ferene watched Tullund check the body anyway. Wordlessly, he looked inside the house, then back at Ferene. Neither of them needed to talk now. She knew what he saw inside.

In silence, he entered and came back out carrying the body. Ferene picked up Ameila and followed him. After setting the two down, Tullund retrieved the shovels, handing one to Ferene. They buried them behind the farmhouse.

“I need you to come back with me.”

Tullund looked up at Ferene from his spot on the deck of the house. After finishing the burial, he sat there silently. Ferene finally decided it was time.

“Why?”

“That man was a soldier. We’re going to go back and figure out why he came here.”

Tullund looked down, then over at the body in the field. They hadn’t buried the attacker. “If he just killed her and left, I’d say it was obvious. But he wanted to kill you, and you killed him. You said the General sent you here?”

Ferene shook her head. “She sent me to someone else, who sent me here. Man called Alref. He told me everything I know about this. I-“ The thought process felt right, but it also felt odd. “I don’t think the General knew the details.” Disagreements. Infighting. Humans were always doing that, weren’t they? Ferene felt herself being pulled into something complex. She wanted to go back there and kill Alref, but she couldn’t do that. Not with an army around him. “I need you to tell them what happened.”

Tullund nodded and stood up. “Let’s go.” It was late in the day, and it would be night by the time they reached the city, at a human’s pace. Tullund started walking anyway. After picking up the dead soldier’s sword, Ferene followed him.

Compared to the walk to the edge of the farm, Tullund was a different person. Ferene walked slightly behind him, matching his pace. Hours passed without him saying a single word. They were more than halfway to the city, the sun setting, when he finally spoke.

“It happened again.”

“What happened again?”

“I found peace. I found a place to be. Last time, I had a wife, I said I wouldn’t kill any more. Then people came and killed her. I found you and we killed them. Then I said it again. I’d go back to a peaceful life. I found another place to be. Then someone came and killed them. Now you and I are going to figure out why, maybe kill some more people.”

Ferene couldn’t think of a response to that.

“Makes me wonder if it’s worth it. It just doesn’t work for me. I try to get away from this and it follows me. Is that why you do what you do? Because you know that if you run away, it will chase after you?”

She thought about that as they walked. Minutes later, she found the answer. “It isn’t chasing you.”

This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

Tullund stopped, turning to look at her. “What?”

“It isn’t chasing you.” She came to stop, meeting his eyes. He had been crying. “I went to the edge of the human lands. I found the Hatharen. What do they do? They live basic lives every single day until they go and fight and die in a stupid war. Then they return to their homes and start waiting again. They mourn the ones they lost while they train for the next battle. Death doesn’t follow you, and it doesn’t follow me. It’s everywhere. Trying to run from it is pointless.

“I used to think that if I killed enough people, it would mean something. I’d make a small difference, or die trying. I didn’t care if I died or not because I was one of those people that made it worse. If I killed a hundred or more scum and then died in a ditch the world would be better off. It won’t. There’s always going to be another horrible person, another thief or killer or slaver, to take the place of whoever I kill. So I can’t stop. I can’t just wait until one of them kills me.

“I’m going to do what I want to do, answer the questions I want answered. Learn why my mother sold herself to bandits. And while I do that, I’m going to kill any monsters I find. You don’t need to give it all up. The next time you find people, protect them. Because you know how to fight. Don’t become a victim.”

He stared at her as she ranted, and then she looked away. This was just like before. Somehow, he had made her talk. She never spoke that much to anyone else.

“If you aren’t a killer, you’re a victim. Isn’t that what you said before? Maybe you’re right. Both of the times I stopped, people got hurt. I just need to kill the right people.”

Stepping forward, he put his arm on her shoulder, patting her. He looked like he was about to break into tears again. Ferene nodded to him. The two of them turned and continued walking.

They were not stopped at the edge of the camp. Rather, they were noticed and left alone. Soldiers turned to watch the two as they walked through, Ferene holding the sword, covered in dried blood, in her hand. They walked all the way to the center, where Taradira’s aide stopped them. This was the same shorter man with the thin beard that met her the previous night. “I need to speak to the General. Now.”

“She’s not here right now.” He said, looking her over, his eyes lingering for a moment on the weapon, then Tullund. “She’s busy training. I can take you there, but we’ll have to wait for her to take a break.”

Ferene nodded, and the man led them into the central area, where the tents spread out. It didn’t take long for them to hear the sounds of sparring, and they were soon greeted with an impressive sight; Taradira, her massive bulk exaggerated further by her black steel armor, swinging her hook-shaped sword at an even more heavily armored, but more normal-sized, opponent. Her target held a standard sword in one hand and a shield in the other, but stayed entirely on the defensive, alternating between shield and sword to block Taradira’s blows.

The aide had said to wait, but Ferene strode onto the training field, unarmored, and threw the bloodied sword onto the ground between the two combatants as soon as there was an opening. Taradira halted, turning to glare at Ferene, sweat dripping from her brow, her white-gray hair stuck to her face. “What is this?”

“I talked to the people that Alref told me about. A soldier - one of your soldiers - followed me, killed two of them, and then tried to kill me and the third person there.”

Taradira said something in Hatharen. Oddly, it was the first time Ferene heard her speak the language. Sliding the sword onto her waist, she bent over and picked the weapon up off the ground. “Come with me.” She turned before even finishing the command, walking away with her long strides. Ferene trotted after her, Tullund and the aide following.

“That is a full Hatharen?” He whispered to her. Ferene nodded. “Are the men even taller?”

“She’s the biggest one I’ve seen.” Ferene replied.

The three of them followed Taradira to a large tent where a guard stepped forward, attempting to say something before the General barked at him to stand aside. Throwing the flap open, Taradira ducked through the entrance, Ferene, Tullund, and her aide right behind. The four of them stood in front of a table where Alref and three others sat, all of them looking upwards at the towering General, who buried the tip of the sword in the wooden table.

“General.” Alref said, starting to stand up.

“Stay seated. All of you.” Taradira barked. Her voice reverberated through the tent, and Ferene felt her spine straighten. The General spoke with confidence and authority.

“Is there something we can help you with?” Alref asked calmly.

“The problem you were having. With the farm. Tell me the details.”

“One of the properties along the river is owned by the family of a knight. A previous king gave it to the man as a reward for his service. She refuses to return the land despite being offered compensation.”

“And why do we need to take the whole land instead of just buying the part next to the river from her?”

“It is a waste of time to negotiate with these farmers over every square foot of land. Ultimately, it is easier to just buy out entire areas and rent them back. It’s what we did with all the others.” Alref replied calmly.

Taradira turned to Ferene. “And you, as a third party negotiator, were told to acquire the entire property?”

Ferene nodded, then added. “I was instructed, specifically, to get the owner to agree to the deal offered, no more details.”

“Alref.” Taradira said, turning back to the man. “You are a warrior. Not a merchant, not a farmer, not a clerk or a scribe. Your job is to do what is best for the army. If the king cared about expenses and bartering, he would have sent professionals. Would he not have?”

“Yes, General.”

“And did you not make the promise, to the king, that despite your misgivings about an outsider being in charge, you would do your best to follow my orders?”

“Yes, General.”

“So why did you send the assistant I gave you on a foolish errand while also ordering one of your men to kill her and multiple of the king’s subjects?”

Alref glared up at Taradira defiantly. “I gave no such order.”

The two held eye contact, neither budging, until one of the other people at the table broke the standoff. “He did, actually!” A high-pitched voice said. Both of them turned to the speaker. A young woman sat in one of the four chairs, smiling openly. “I was there when he talked to the soldier. I think he said ‘Leave the peasants where they can be found, but make the orange bitch disappear.’ Or something like that.”

Ferene could see Alref’s eyes go wide, his expression twisting. “General, this woman-“

“Who is she?” Taradira demanded. “You do not have any female soldiers, yet here is one oddly in a uniform. That’s very odd, isn’t it, Captain Alref?”

“Ah-“

“I can answer that as well!” The girl said cheerfully. “You made a rule banning soldiers from bringing whores back to camp. Or at least I think it was you. He said ‘the she-bear’ did it and that’s how he talks about you. I’m his personal property and he didn’t want to be away from me, so he dressed me up as a man and had me stay around.”

Alref lunged for her, springing out of his chair, a dagger suddenly in his hand. Taradira punched him in the face, metal-clad fist connecting with flesh to the sound of bone breaking. “Thoms, detain the other two. You, woman, stand up.” She gave orders as she grabbed Alref by the back of his shirt, lifting him up and staring into his broken face. “If I am a bear then you are a rat.”

Captain Alref made a noise back at her, and she pushed him back into his chair. “You stay there.” Turning to the girl, Taradira glared. “Are you wearing anything under that uniform?”

In the face of a fully armored Hatharen more than two heads taller than her, the girl giggled. “If you want to know what I’m wearing, you-“

Taradira’s hand shot out, armored fingers wrapping around her neck. “I am the final authority in this camp. If you do not answer my questions promptly and accurately, I will have you executed. Are you wearing any clothes under your uniform?”

Her fingers, tiny by comparison, struggled against Taradira’s wrists. She nodded, and the General let go of her. The girl immediately gasped for air. “Then take it off, as you are not a soldier and have not earned the right to wear it.”

Ferene and Tullund stood silently, watching as the girl unbuttoned the jacket, neatly folding it and placing it on the table, followed by the trousers. She stood in the tent in only her smallclothes, staring up defiantly at Taradira.

“What’s your name?”

“Lily.”

“Are you willing to cooperate with me and tell me everything you heard Captain Alref say and saw him do?”

Ferene saw defiance in Lily’s eyes, until she looked over at Alref, his face slowly swelling up, and nodded. “I will.”

“Good. Come with me to my tent, I’ll find you something proper to wear and you can tell me everything. Ferene, you come as well.” She paused, turning to look at Tullund. “Who is that?” She asked, pointing.

“He was the third person on the farm. He’s a friend of mine from before. His name is Tullund.”

“The dead wife guy? He can come to.” Taradira reached out, placing a hand on Lily’s shoulder and guided her out of the tent, leaving Ferene and Tullund to follow.

Ferene nodded to Tullund. “I’m going to do what she says.” He nodded back, and the two of them left the tent, just as two guards entered, walking towards Alref, who was still sitting at the table, experimentally touching his swollen jaw and eyes.

Inside Taradira’s tent, she very quickly found what she called ‘proper’ clothes for Lily, which turned out to be a shirt that nearly came down to the girl’s knees, making her look like a child wearing her parent’s clothes. After removing her armor, the General and Lily sat facing each other on the two chairs while Ferene and Tullund stood off to the side.

“Why did Alref have you attend all his meetings?” Taradira asked calmly once they were all settled. It was clear that she didn’t entirely trust the girl yet. Ferene found herself paying close attention.

“He considered me one of his advisers. For politics. He’d ask my advice on these things.”

“Why are you knowledgeable about politics? You implied that you are a whore.”

“My mother was a servant in-“

“Were you taught, or did you pick it up from exposure? I do not need to know your entire life’s story.”

“Exposure, ma’am.” She slouched after Taradira cut her off, as if she was trying to hide.

“Would you say you advised him well?”

“No.”

Taradira leaned forward. “And why is that?”

“He did not treat me well. I only advised against the worst plans. I had ideas I didn’t tell him. I wanted him to fail so I could get away.”

“Did you consider simply turning him in?”

“I didn’t know who to trust. I didn’t know who would bring me back to him, or where to find you.”

Leaning back, Taradira sighed. “Do you know the full details of his plan with Ferene and the farm?”

Lily looked over to Ferene. “He was purposefully avoiding making a good offer. He wanted it to go badly to make you look incompetent. He sent that soldier there to kill the farmers and your friend and make it look like your friend had killed them and ran off, so that he could blame it all on you for trusting an outsider.”

Ferene could feel Tullund stiffen beside her. “Ameila and Garvin died because of this?” He spoke quietly, but his words carried through the tent. Ferene nodded.

Taradira sighed again, standing up. “This is a tragedy and a failure on my part. I cannot bring back the dead, so I cannot right this wrong.” She looked directly at Tullund. “I can make offers of compensation, but that is only how those in power apologize to those who are not. From my understanding of the situation, you may be the one who ends up with that land, if you want it.”

“Piss on that land."

Taradira nodded. “I can also offer you mon-“

“Let me join your army.”

Ferene turned to look at him. He glared directly at Taradira, his jaw set. She looked back, not quite wide-eyed but with her eyebrows raised in surprise. “Why?”

“They died because I couldn’t defend them. That’s what you are here for, isn’t it? To defend the land and the people? Horrible job of it so far. I’ll do better. Give me a place here, give me weapons. I’ll defend them.” He looked over at Lily. “I want her, too.”

“What?” Lily spoke up, staring at Tullund.

Frowning, Taradira said, “I can’t just give you a person.”

“She called herself his property. I want some of the property of the man that ordered the deaths of my friends. No monetary compensation. Just a position in your army, and her.”

Tilting her head, Taradira seemed to consider this. “What will you do with her?”

Tullund looked at Ferene, then at Lily, then back at Taradira. “I want her with me. She gets to teach me about politics, and she stays with me and learns about fighting. How to protect herself. She doesn’t have to be a soldier, only my assistant.”

“If you can pass a competency test, I might be able to make you a lieutenant. You can have her as an assistant. If you can’t, I can give you a lower position, and you can’t have her as an assistant.”

“Do I get to say anything about this?” Lily asked, standing up.

Taradira laughed. “My plan for you was to send you to the castle to scrub pots. You have too much information about this camp to be let free. Do you want to stay here, as the assistant to this man, or become the lowest servant in the castle?”

Lily threw up her hands and sat back down. “Well, I suppose I can finish questioning you later.” Taradira announced, turning to Ferene. “I believe that I owe you some information, Ferene.”

“You do.”