Chapter 111 - Professionals

Chapter 111: 111 - Professionals

Adrien left Greymoor shortly after sunrise. The road south lay quiet, the fields still steeped in grey light. He rode alone, as he had settled the night before, while Vikir followed hours behind with the documents.

His first stop was a roadside settlement where one of the damaged caravans had been hauled after the last robbery. Two wagons stood beside a stable at the edge of town, one with a shattered wheel and gashed sideboards, the other stripped of its canvas.

The owner sat outside the inn with his left arm in a sling, two guards beside him, one bandaged around the thigh. Adrien went straight to them.

"Are you the ones from the caravan attacked three days ago?"

The merchant raised his head, recognition surfacing as he took in Adrien’s face and clothes. "Lord Clairmont?"

"Adrien is fine. I wanted to ask what happened."

The man seemed honestly startled. "You came yourself?"

"I wanted to know what was happening on the road."

The merchant nudged the empty chair toward Adrien. "I didn’t expect anyone to actually come. We sent the report because the town clerk told us to, but usually that sort of thing disappears into a pile somewhere."

Adrien sat, and the man gave his name as Tomas.

His caravan had carried cloth, preserved food and locked boxes of tools, with six hired guards. The road had been clear until they reached a narrow stretch between two low ridges, where a tree already lay across the path, set so both wagons had to halt.

"Not fallen," Tomas said. "Cut clean through. They had it ready before we arrived."

"How many attackers?"

"Maybe twenty. Could’ve been more in the trees."

One of the guards shifted and joined in, an older man with a scar running from jaw to ear and a dark stain seeping through the bandage on his thigh. "They knew where to stand."

Adrien gave him his whole attention. "What do you mean?"

"They didn’t rush us. Four came down first and told us to step away from the wagons. When we didn’t, the rest appeared around the ridge. Rangers had the high ground. Warriors and knights with shields blocked the road behind us."

The guard went on. They had tried to break through instead of surrendering, and the fighting had started there.

"We tried to force our way out. That was the mistake. They put two of us down immediately, but they weren’t trying to finish anyone. One man dropped his sword after taking a hit to the shoulder, and I heard one of them shout not to touch anyone who’d surrendered."

Tomas nodded as the guard finished. "They took the food, the Crowns and some of the tools. Left the wagons. Left enough water for us to reach town too."

That detail lodged in Adrien’s mind. It made the robberies no less criminal, but it reshaped whoever waited at the end of that road and made the Greymoor reports far easier to read.

"Did they take personal belongings?"

"Some," Tomas said. "Mostly money. One of them took a ring from another merchant, but someone higher up told him to give it back."

Adrien considered the ruined wagons. Ordinary bandits did not behave that way, least of all men desperate enough to hit armed caravans seven times.

"Did anyone die?"

"No."

"Would anyone have died if you’d surrendered immediately?"

The guard studied the table before answering. "I don’t think so."

Adrien stayed another half hour, asking about weapons, clothing and anything else they remembered. The descriptions never wavered: good steel, maintained armour, clear orders, men who knew how to halt a caravan without turning the road into a massacre.

Before he left, Tomas pushed himself up, still surprised that the lord responsible for the road had come himself. "Lord Clairmont."

Adrien turned toward him.

"I appreciate this. Even if nothing comes of it. I wasn’t expecting someone to ride out here because we lost a few crates."

Adrien weighed the wagons, then him. "Something will come of it. I can’t promise what yet, but I’ll see what I can do."

Tomas nodded, satisfied. "That’s more than I expected."

Adrien rode farther south until Vikir caught up near midday and handed over a leather folder swollen with copied contracts and payment records.

"I found more than I expected."

Adrien worked through the pages. The company surfaced again and again across years of Arquenay accounts: escort work, road protection, expeditions and reinforcement during two small conflicts.

"They worked for Gaspard often."

"Very often," Vikir said. "Not exclusively, but Arquenay was their most reliable employer in this region. The records are good. No disciplinary complaints, no missing cargo under their protection, and several contracts were renewed before the previous ones even ended."

Adrien turned another page. Whoever had ambushed Tomas knew exactly how to govern a road, most likely after years spent preventing that same ambush for somebody else.

"So they had a good reputation."

"Yes."

Adrien reached the final contract and found no payments beyond it and no renewal. Vikir waited until he finished the page.

"What happened after this?"

"Nothing." Vikir pointed to the date at the bottom of the contract. "Gaspard fell. The contract expired. Nobody renewed it. The company was paid what it was owed up to that date, and after that the records stop."

"How many?"

"The last roster lists one hundred and thirty-seven fighters, plus support staff."

Adrien turned back toward the road. One hundred and thirty-seven men did not stop needing food because a noble lost his seat.

Their gear wanted repairs, their camp wanted supplies, and anyone with family needed Crowns. That explained how desperation took root, though it excused nothing, since a wide gap remained between understanding why men reached that point and accepting what they chose after it.

"Do we know who leads them?"

"Marcus. Four Stars according to the last record. He’s been their captain for eight years."

Adrien closed the folder and considered the road south.

"Then that’s who I need to speak to."

If Marcus and his company stood behind the attacks, Adrien wanted to hear how men with years of clean contracts had ended up robbing the roads they once kept safe.