A Sellsword's Compassion_Book One of the Seven Virtues

by Jacob Peppers

  “Yeah?”

  “I don’t mean to tell you your business either, but if some men should happen through, some more strangers, and they start askin’ questions about me and the others, you tell ‘em what they want to know, alright?”

  The innkeeper frowned, “What sort of men?”

  Aaron considered a moment, “The sort that can ask hard, you understand?”

  Herb nodded, the pleasantness gone from his face, “Folks in Krase ain’t real good with strangers sticking their noses where they don’t belong. These people come by askin’ their questions, they’ll get some answers—just might not be the ones they’re wantin’.”

  Aaron shook his head, “Not these men, Herb. Trust me on this. You tell them what they want to know, and get them out of your town as quickly as you can. These aren’t the kind of people you want to screw with. Especially not when you have something to lose. Promise me.”

  The innkeeper and his wife shared a worried glance then both of them glanced at the door where, Aaron suspected, their daughter was sleeping. When Herb turned back to the sellsword, his face was grim, “Alright, Aaron. Whatever you say.”

  Aaron nodded, satisfied, and left.

  CHAPTER

  TWENTY-ONE

  A bird whistled happily in one of the trees surrounding the road, and Aaron was barely able to resist the urge to shout at it. They’d been traveling for hours now and his mood was steadily becoming worse. The air was frigid, much colder than he was used to, and his tattered cloak did nothing to keep it at bay. This, however, was not the reason why he could feel his temper rising. It wasn’t the bouncing cart that made his back and ass ache, nor, even, was it Gryle’s constant snoring—how the man could sleep on the bumpy trip was beyond him. More than anything, he felt himself growing angry as the boy, Peter, continued to ogle Adina like she was a goddess come down from the heavens. With the amount of looks the boy kept flashing at her, it wasn’t surprising that the cart managed to hit every damned rock or root sticking out of the road. Truth to tell, Aaron thought as the boy smiled shyly at the princess again, we’re lucky the bastard’s managing to stay on the path at all.

  Jealous? Co asked in an amused voice.

  His frown grew deeper. For her? Hardly. I’d just rather the boy spent more time worrying about getting us to Baresh in one piece than eyeing her highness’s tits, and the way she’s treating him, smiling and chatting away like they’ve known each other for years isn’t doing anything but encouraging him.

  Uhuh. So definitely not jealous then.

  Aaron pinched the bridge of his nose and took a deep breath. It wasn’t enough that he and the chamberlain had been stuck in the back of some turnip cart while the princess and the boy rode up front like royalty, now he had to deal with Co’s taunts. In his time bonded with the Virtue, he’d learned that all women—even ones that were floating balls of light—could be a real pain in the ass. Even if I did care about her—which I don’t—I wouldn’t be worried about some hick boy with a face full of acne that can’t even shave yet.

  I see, the Virtue said in a reasonable tone that made Aaron even angrier, they do seem to be getting along famously though.

  Aaron glanced at the front of the cart, and saw that the princess was laughing, one of her hands on the boy’s shoulder. For his part, Peter’s ears had turned as red as his hair, and his gaze—for once—was locked on the dirt trail in front of them. Like I care, Aaron thought back. Suddenly, the chamberlain’s snoring was more than he could bear, and he gave the man a shove with one of his boots. The fat man shifted in his sleep and the deep, thunderous snores cut off.

  “Thank the gods for that, at least,” Aaron muttered, scowling, but no sooner were the words out of his mouth than the chamberlain’s snoring started again. Aaron sighed resignedly and readjusted in a vain effort to get comfortable. It was going to be a long trip.

  CHAPTER

  TWENTY-TWO

  It was nearly dark by the time Peter pulled the mules to a stop on the side of the road. Aaron’s muscles complained loudly from the bumpy ride, and his head ached as if it was going to split in two. “There’s a small clearing through here,” the youth said, “it’s not much, but we could have a fire and rest for a while if you’d like. I’ve used it before.”

  Aaron was sure the question was directed at the princess, but he’d be damned if he was going to be bounced around anymore today. “Sounds good. Lead the way.”

  The boy glanced at the princess then clucked to the mules and began leading the cart into the trees. In a few minutes, they came upon the clearing he’d spoken of. Aaron winced as he stood up in the cart and stretched his aching muscles. He’d wanted to borrow Herb’s mules because they’d make better time than walking, and with Belgarin’s men no doubt hunting him—not to mention that crazy bastard Aster—they needed all the help they could get, but he was regretting the decision just the same.

  He gazed down at the sleeping chamberlain with narrowed eyes, and kicked him. This time, Gryle let out a startled yelp, and jerked up to a sitting position in the cart. “W-what’s happening?” He squeaked, “What’s wrong?”

  “That’s a long list,” Aaron said, “and we don’t have the time. Now, come on. You’ve got first watch.”

  “Watch?” Gryle whined, rubbing a meaty paw at his eyes, “is that really necessary?”

  “Yes, now move your ass.”

  Aaron had never been this far north, and now that the sun was nearly down he was surprised at how cold it was. The wind cut through his clothing like daggers made of frost, and he and the others hurriedly gathered wood from the nearby forest and started a fire. As they sat around warming their hands on the small blaze, they helped themselves to dried jerky and bread. The food tasted like road dust to Aaron, and he washed it down with a bottle of ale that Herb had sent with him. The ale worked wonders on his sore body, not eliminating the pains, so much as covering them over with a pleasant numbness that was beginning to spread through his limbs.

  “So,” the princess said as they all ate, “how do you like living in the north, Peter?”

  “I-it’s good, I guess,” the boy stammered, obviously uncomfortable with being the center of attention.

  “Well, that’s nice,” Adina said.

  There was a pause before Peter spoke again. “That’s … maybe that’s not true. It used to be good until a month ago, when Prince Eladen up and disappeared and Claudius took over. My pa says that most nobles ain’t worth a spit, but the prince is different. The prince actually cares about us commoners, and my pa says that as soon as he gets back from wherever he’s gone, Claudius is going to have a lot to answer for.”

  Adina felt a pang of sadness at the thought of her brother, at the thought of all of his people waiting for him to return, not knowing that he was dead, and she felt a surge of rage at gods who would allow a man like Eladen to die while her brother, Belgarin, lived and forced an entire land of people to suffer because of his own greed. After a time, the anger passed, leaving her feeling empty and exhausted in its wake. She rose, walked to the cart and removed her bed roll. “I’m going to go to sleep. Goodnight everyone.”

  Aaron watched Peter stare after her, and despite the dim light of the fire, he could make out the boy’s expression of embarrassed hurt. Despite himself, he felt sorry for the youth. “Don’t worry about it, kid,” he said, surprising himself with the words, “She’s had a long day.”

  The boy nodded silently, retrieved his own bed roll, and lay down.

  “Are you going to get some rest, sir?” Gryle asked beside him.

  “Later.” They lapsed into silence, and Aaron sat, gazing at the fire as it whipped back and forth in the wind. Despite his best efforts to the contrary, his mind kept returning to Adina. The woman was damned bossy at times—no surprise that—and he’d lost count of the times she’d almost gotten him killed, but he had to admit that she had some backbone. What’s more, despite the fact that she’d no doubt spent her years being pampered and sleeping
in the finest beds, she hadn’t complained once about sleeping on the hard, rocky ground. Suddenly, a thought struck him and he turned to the chamberlain, “Why didn’t you leave, Gryle?”

  The chamberlain started at the sound of the sellsword’s voice, “Sir?”

  “When Adina’s other servants were bought out by Belgarin, why didn’t you leave? For that matter, why didn’t you take Belgarin’s coin yourself?”

  There was a pause, and when Gryle spoke, he sounded angry for the first time Aaron had ever heard, “I would never betray Her Highness.”

  He nodded, “So why not just leave? I doubt Belgarin would have spared any trouble going after you.”

  “Because the Princess needs me,” Gryle answered, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

  “And starving people need food,” Aaron said, thinking of Herb’s daughter, Paula, “but they don’t always get it. You’ve got to know that the longer you hang around with her, the more likely it is that you’ll be killed.”

  The chamberlain didn’t respond at first and when he did his voice was little more than a whisper. “I’m scared. Of course, I’m scared. I’m no warrior, like you.” He took a deep, hitching breath, “I’m a coward. But … King Marcus, before he died—gods protect and keep him—once told me something that I’ll never forget. He said, ‘A man has a right to fear death, Gryle, the same way he has a right to breathe, but if he has nothing that he’d be willing to face that fear for, to die for, then he’s not really a man, but an empty shell and of no use to anyone.’ I believe, I know, that the princess cares for her people, that she only wants to make the world better, and I pray to the gods each night to watch over her.”

  Aaron grunted, “I used to hear my father say something similar to my mother sometimes. It was the reason he followed Eladen; why he wanted to help him unite the whole of Telrear.”

  “Your father sounds like a wise man, sir.”

  Aaron hocked and spat, “My father’s dead. He and my mother were killed because he chose to follow the prince. No, my father wasn’t wise. He was a fool. As for the gods, pray if you want, Gryle. You aren’t the first, and you won’t be the last, but you know something? People keep dying, anyway.”

  “Sir,” the chamberlain said with a frown, “I really don’t thi—“

  “Forget it,” Aaron said, suddenly angry, “I’m going to get some rest. Wake me when it’s my time for watch.” He started toward his bedroll and turned back, “Oh, and Gryle?”

  The chamberlain blinked his eyes owlishly in the firelight, “Yes sir?”

  “You’re not a coward; a fool, maybe, but not a coward.”

  CHAPTER

  TWENTY-THREE

  The next day passed uneventfully. They rose, ate in near silence, and got back on the trail. After a time, the road took them out of the forest and into hilly grasslands that stretched on as far as Aaron could see. It rained that night. The sweeping fields offered no shelter. They got wet. They rose the next morning, all of them ill-tempered and out of sorts except for Gryle who was, at least to Aaron’s mind, annoyingly cheerful, constantly commenting on the fine, autumn weather or the surprising comfort of the cart.

  It was on their third day in the grasslands, the fourth since leaving Herb’s, that they topped a hill and first saw the dust cloud stirring behind them in the direction from which they’d came. “What is it, do you think?” Adina asked, “Someone else heading to the capital?”

  “Could be,” Aaron said, meeting her gaze meaningfully, “but I don’t think so.” He turned to Peter, “How far from Baresh are we?”

  The youth turned away from the road, his face screwed up in concentration, “We should make it to the capital around tomorrow night—no later than that. That is, if we don’t stop at Naya’s.” He smiled, apparently not noticing the worried expressions on the faces of the others, “Naya’s is a waystop for travelers, an inn of sorts. She makes the best sugared lemon tarts you’ll ever have. It sure would be good to—“

  “I don’t think we’ll be stopping,” Aaron said, frowning back at the growing dust cloud. Whoever it was, they were traveling fast. It was nearly impossible to tell from this distance, but he thought that there were three, maybe four of them. According to the boy, they had a day and a half before they reached Baresh; a long time to ride in a rickety old cart. Too long. Whoever was following them—and despite what he wanted to think, it would be foolish to think the riders weren’t following them—would be on them in the morning, mid-day at the latest. A thought struck him, and he turned back to the pimple-faced youth, “How far is this Naya’s?”

  Peter glanced up at the sky in thought. “If we stop for the night at about the same time as we have been, we should reach it an hour or two after we start out in the morning.”

  He nodded, “Alright then. Keep going.”

  Peter finally noticed their nervous expressions. “Do you know who’s behind us?”

  “Better than I’d like to,” Aaron said, “and if they catch us so will you. Best keep going.” They traveled on, speaking little. The youth didn’t say anything, but based on the stiff whiteness of his hands where they gripped the reins, and the punishing pace he was putting the mules to, he’d apparently decided that, while eyeballin’ the princess’s goods was an enjoyable pastime, breathing was an even better one.

  In the afternoon, they crested another large, grassy hill. Aaron looked back and spat in frustration. Despite the cart’s increased pace, the riders had got closer. A lot closer. “Bastards must be killing their horses,” he muttered. “Alright, lad, let’s slow it down some.”

  “Slow it down?” Adina asked incredulously, “Are you crazy? They’ll catch us.”

  He shook his head, “Not tonight they won’t.”

  “And after that?” Adina asked, “You heard Peter; we won’t get to Baresh until tomorrow night.”

  Ignoring her, Aaron turned to the youth, “You want to make it home to your family, boy?”

  The red head’s face was pale, his eyes wide with fear. He swallowed hard and nodded, “Yes sir.”

  “Alright then. Slow it down. Give the animals a chance to catch a breath. It won’t do us any good to run them to death.”

  Peter stared at him with those wide, terrified eyes, “Are they gonna catch us, sir?”

  Aaron glanced behind them again. “Probably.” He turned back to the terrified youth. “Relax, boy. Just do as I tell you, and we just might get out of this with our guts in place.”

  The boy nodded and eased the pace of the mules. Adina shook her head in awe, “You’re out of your mind.”

  He felt for the handle of the sword at his back, ensuring himself it was there, then turned to her, a grim smile on his face, “You have no idea.”

  CHAPTER

  TWENTY-FOUR

  He had Peter push the mules past the time when they normally would have stopped. They went on until the nearly-full moon hung in the sky, bright and pregnant, until he judged the men no more than a couple of hours behind them, then he ordered the youth to stop the cart. “What is it?” Adina asked, and though she masked it well, he could hear the fear in her voice, “Aren’t we going to keep going?”

  Aaron climbed out of the cart and took a moment to stretch his aching muscles, wrapping his cloak around him for what little protection it would afford him against the growing cold. He turned to Adina and nodded, “You are.”

  Realization dawned in her blue eyes and they seemed to sparkle in the moonlight, “You can’t be serious. You don’t know how many there are.”

  “I think I may. Besides,” he said, shrugging, “does it matter?”

  “But why? You don’t care about us—you’ve made that clear,” she said, her voice a mixture of anger and hurt, “why would you risk yourself?”

  “Look, we don’t have time for this,” Aaron said, feeling precious seconds slipping by, “We both know what those men want—what they’ll do. Now, we can sit around here arguing about this until they slit our throats, or you can
get moving.”

  “No,” she said, shaking her head, “it’s not right.”

  He barked a harsh laugh, “Nothing is.” He took in the princess’s angry, worried face and sighed, “Look, relax. It’s probably just a scouting party. Two or three men, four at the most. Besides, I don’t plan on letting myself get ghosted just yet—not until I get paid, anyway.” He turned to Gryle. The chamberlain’s face had paled visibly, and he was rubbing his hands together anxiously, “You keep going until you reach Naya’s. If I’m not there by first light, you and the others rush to Baresh like the Keeper himself is on your tail—because he is.”

  Gryle was shaking his head before Aaron was finished, “We can’t leave you, sir, it wouldn’t b—“

  “Listen,” Aaron said, “We can either wait for them to run us down tomorrow morning like fucking animals, or you can do what I tell you and maybe we can survive. You do want your mistress to survive, don’t you, Gryle?”

  The chamberlain nodded slowly, “Of course, sir, but—“

  “No buts,” Aaron said as he withdrew one of his blades and offered it to the chamberlain, “Here, take this.” He met the man’s eyes, “Run if you can, but if it comes to it, use it.”

  Gryle eyed the blade askance, as if its touch was poison. “I … I don’t think—“

  The chamberlain let out a squeak of surprise as Aaron grabbed a handful of his shirt and jerked him closer, “You’re not a coward, remember?”

  Gryle’s mouth worked silently for a moment, “Y-yes sir.”

  Aaron watched him for several seconds then nodded, satisfied, “Good. Remember, first light—not a minute more.”

  “First light,” the chamberlain repeated.

  “No,” Adina said, “We’re not going to leave you alone.”