The large wooden doors of the longhouse shut behind the Nobleman and his protectors as they exit. Leaving myself, Mr. Wyatt, Mama, and Thorpe to ourselves in the spacious building.
The conversation lasted for about an hour. Discussing the terms and expectations of the Nobleman's stay.
By decree of Baron Mayorga, steward of Llanercost, his nephew, Lord Felix Mayorga, will be staying with us for as long as necessary to learn what has made our crops resistant to the sickness. As well, the mercenaries tasked with protecting Lord Felix are also meant to be investigating the Brigands who raided the Alder caravan, as they were reported to have been traveling in our direction.
The two mercenaries who were with Lord Felix are the leaders of the band accompanying him. They were eventually introduced to us as Ser Steppan Heinorad and Ser Ethel Albrich. Ser Ethel is the actual leader, while Ser Steppan is her secondary.
Apparently, they are both C-Rank mercenaries. Which Thorpe has told me in the past is the Rank where mercenaries are considered specialists. And they're usually around level 7 to 9. So both of them are certainly no pushovers.
Suffice it to say, I am no longer as confident that Thorpe could handle them easily. At least not by himself.
I didn't really speak much during the lengthy discussion. It was mostly Lord Felix laying out his expectations for his care, as if we were running an Inn he just booked into. But at least he didn't really seem that bothered when Mama and Mr. Wyatt had to shoot down a few of his requirements. So I think he's just pushing his luck and hoping for the best.
I don't know how he would expect us to have Greater Arachnid silk sheets…
And honestly, thinking about the implications of where that might come from makes my skin crawl.
After hashing out the details, Lord Felix decided it's best to save the rest of the discussions for tomorrow. It had definitely been a hard day for everyone in the room, and no one was really in the mood for any more serious talk.
But now that they've left the longhouse, the silence is creeping back in while we wait for the Nobleman and his protectors to get far enough away.
Mr. Thorpe's shoulders relax, and that seems to be the signal for everyone else's to loosen up as well.
The old man produces his pipe, which he had slipped into the back of his belt. Loads it up with tobacco and moves over to the center of the room to light it from the fire pit. He takes a puff as he flicks the twig he used back into the weakened flames. "Well…that was something."
Mama folds her arms over her chest, a pensive expression hard set on her face. "No kidding. I can't even begin to wonder how our crops, even with loads of them dying from poison soil, can somehow be strong enough to resist a plague that can spread to everyone else's." She sighs as she reaches up to pinch the bridge of her nose. "I just don't understand what I'm supposed to tell him tomorrow."
Mr. Wyatt scratches his neck and lets out a low hum. "I dare say, we don't do much differently than Marcus or Mrs. Cuthridge. I was talking to them at the co-op last season, and their villages were the first in the valley after Llanercost was founded."
Mama shakes her head. "We'll have to interview the [Farmers] for each section. All of them." She grimaces at the idea before turning her attention back to Thorpe. "What did you think, though? They legit? I've never heard of a Lord Felix before."
The old man takes a few puffs from his pipe while he's knelt next to the fire, poking at the logs with the accompanying metal poker. "Don't need an [Identify] scroll to know he's legit. But he's not from Llanercost, he's straight from Berxley. Which works rather well in our favor."
"You know him?" Mama asks plainly.
"I know OF him. I've seen him before, but he was just a kid back then. It was at his granddad's funeral." The old man admits while standing back up and walking back over to us. "Not sure what stroke of luck we hit, but I'd trust Lord Felix more than some other [Inspector] from town. He's got a good track record. Takes his job seriously."
Mr. Wyatt scoffs. "How serious can he be if he's demanding we offer wild luxury goods while he's here?"
Old Guard chuckles as he takes another puff from his pipe. "Didn't say he wasn't a typical noble. He was mostly pushing his luck and hoping for the best. But despite how he looks, I haven't heard anything bad about him other than general disdain for his eccentricity and overall snobbery."
I purse my lips at that. I'm not entirely convinced he won't start acting like the corrupt nobles in some of the books I've read. But there are more pressing things to comment on. "They definitely know something…"
The other three turn their attention to me, and Thorpe nods in agreement. "Most definitely. They came in here all suited up, even after settling into the guest rooms. On edge throughout that entire conversation. They were expecting trouble. And I don't think my inclusion here has made them feel much safer. But at least they left a bit more relaxed."
The old man's brows furrow in thought. "Yara. When they got here, what happened? Anything odd?"
Mama raises a brow and scoffs. "You mean other than them showing up out of the blue?" She asks rhetorically. "Walt at the front gate said that a few mercenaries approached first. He said they were acting squirrelly and were really demanding, but eventually they flagged in Lord Felix and the rest of the band with him."
Old Guard's mouth forms a thin line, his pipe held in the right corner with his teeth. A thick puff of smoke rises from it after a particularly long drag. "When you went out there to help haul his shit back here. Did you get a good look at the damage on his carriage?"
She shakes her head. "Didn't even see it. The way I heard it, the carriage broke down further away, so he had the mercs haul his things for a while. Then he had them stashed in the tree line about a half hour from the village. But a lot of the mercenaries' travel supplies were stashed along with it."
My face scrunches up in confusion. "Why not just have the mercenaries carry it all the way?"
Thorpe gives a low hum, narrowing his eyes. "Because they were expecting a fight…which is why they left their packs behind too."
Mr. Wyatt's eyes widen. "Could they have been attacked on the road? They did mention a Brigand problem with the mercs."
Old Guard seems to contemplate that for a moment. "Maybe. But I think we'd know if they were outright attacked. But something definitely spooked them on their way up here." He admits, gnawing on the bit of his pipe. "Like Liore said, they are definitely hiding something more. I don't think they're lying about the crops, and especially not the Brigands. But there is more to it that they aren't letting on."
Thinking about it again, there was something that bugged me before. Something the armored woman said early on. "Ser Ethel said that the plague has been driving mercenaries to brigandry. But the way she said it bothered me. I don't think she believes that."
Old Guard shakes his head. "I don't either. I think she was repeating the popular running theory." His expression gets a bit sour. "But I've met plenty of mercs who started acting like Bandits for much less. So it's not entirely unbelievable."
Mama and Mr. Wyatt both nod in agreement as if that's common knowledge. Leaving me to wonder how reliable mercenaries actually are. "Does…that happen often?" I ask them tentatively.
Thorpe scratches at his stubble for a moment before he raises a hand to tilt it back and forth a few times. "Kinda sorta. It's a spectrum of things. I can probably count the number of mercs I've seen go completely Brigand on one hand. And they're all dead. But the Mercenaries guild does have a bit of an…extortionist problem."
Mama grimaces and nods at that. "When I was growing up in Alder, our village had issues with a particular mercenary band extorting us for protection. Even going so far as to lead monsters right to us, only to step in and demand payment to help."
Thorpe sneers at that. "Yeaaaah, Kelso's group. They made me very upset…"
Mama smirks and gives the old man a friendly punch to the shoulder. "And you didn't kill him. Even though you really wanted to. I'm so proud."
Old Guard just frowns at her as his shoulders slump. "Still wish I did, though. He avoided getting hanged cause of the Baron at the time."
She gives a dismissive wave at him. "No need to dwell on it any further. It's been over 15 years now, Auguste. We have to decide how we're going to handle our guests." Her expression turns serious again. "You said you're certain he's legit. So, no use for the [Identify] scrolls?" She asks before her nose scrunches up. "And speaking of which, what foolish thought did you have to lie about Liore's class in front of someone who can definitely check?"
Thorpe lifts his hands in a calming gesture towards her. "I will still be using some of the scrolls I have, just to be sure." He takes another puff from his pipe. "And to answer your second question, my foolish thought was confidence." He remarks with a sly grin. "He'll definitely check tomorrow, make no mistake. But he couldn't tonight. He already expended all of his charges for it before he even set foot into the village."
Mama raises a brow at that. "What makes you think that?"
But instead of answering, Thorpe seems to turn his attention to me with that same grin. "Liore…why do you think he'd use up all of his [Idenitify] charges?"
I narrow my eyes at him. Is this really the best time to test my deduction skills? And Mama definitely looks annoyed at him for passing this off instead of just answering.
But I guess it's not that difficult to figure out. With how paranoid his protectors were and hearing about how they were acting when they arrived, it's pretty obvious.
I let out a sigh and look back up to my mother. "He likely used all of his charges on you and anyone you brought with you to pick up his luggage," I answer lightly before turning my attention back to Thorpe, giving him a bit of a glare. "BUT, that doesn't fix the issue of him checking tomorrow and then getting even more suspicious of us."
The old man smiles proudly at my answer before he chuckles. "Oh come on. You don't really think I'd make a claim like that without having a workaround?"
I just stare at him with my mouth pressed thin.
Mama's frown is deep enough for the corners of her mouth to touch her jawline. She looks like she's about to scruff him like a cat. And poor Mr. Wyatt is awkwardly glancing back and forth between all of us.
Thorpe finally caves and groans. "Okay, maybe my decision-making skills are a bit rough sometimes. I'm doing my best here! Have some faith in me for God's sake." He blurts out before returning his attention to me. "I'll swing by early in the morning with the workaround. Don't leave the house until then."
I give him a brief continued stare before a firm nod. "Alright. I trust you."
Old Guard sighs in relief, walking back over to the fire and dumping the spent contents of his pipe into the blackened and crumbling logs. "Now, if you don't mind, I think we've had enough for tonight. Liore is right. I need more sleep." He admits, his entire body slumping as he lets out a long-winded breath.
Mama relaxes and nods in agreement. "So do I. This whole day has been a nightmare." But a smile forms across her lips as she reaches out to pet her hand through my cloud-like hair. "But at least my little dove is home safe."
I return the smile gladly. "It's good to be back, Mama."
She leans down and lays a kiss against my forehead, holding me close to her when she stands back up. Then looks back towards Mr. Wyatt. "Arno, can you handle the last checks? I don't think I can walk much more."
Mr. Wyatt offers a pleasant smile himself. "Of course, Yara. No trouble at all. Need to make sure the outliers from the meeting have gotten a proper talking to anyway."
"You are a blessing, Arno." She commends him, giving the large burly man a brief hug.
He visibly blushes and gives a hearty laugh. "Just doing my damndest. Now you all get some rest."
We all tiredly nod in unison, moving towards the front doors as Thorpe picks up a metal bucket filled with water that was nearby the fire pit. Mr. Wyatt and Mama put out the candles in their sconces along the walls as they go. And with one splash the last embers in the fire pit are snuffed out. Blanketing the longhouse in darkness for the night.