Chapter 116 - One Last Job

Chapter 116: 116 - One Last Job

Several days had passed since Adrien made his offer to the Bloodfang Wolves. It was a good offer, especially after weeks of attacks inside Clairmont territory.

Adrien could have ordered their arrest instead, with reason enough, though bringing one hundred and twenty-seven awakened fighters under House Clairmont was worth far more. If they signed, his fighting strength would rise by nearly a quarter.

The problem was that Marcus had refused. For now the attacks had stopped, but if he kept walking the same road, the matter could turn into armed conflict inside Clairmont territory.

Inside the Bloodfang camp, that possibility was becoming harder to ignore. Kael stood across from Marcus in the largest tent, a folded map and a sheet of paper lying between them.

"It’s a bad idea, Marcus. Whatever you’re planning, don’t do it."

Marcus stayed in his chair, eyes on Kael, showing no sign the warning had moved him. "We’ve had bad ideas before."

"Not with House Clairmont watching us."

Kael tapped the paper. The information had arrived that morning through one of Marcus’s contacts: a wealthy merchant would cross the region within two days, carrying enough Crowns to pay contracts farther south.

Before Adrien rode into the camp, the Bloodfang Wolves would have taken that caravan without hesitating, which was why Kael wanted nothing to do with it now.

"Adrien came here himself," Kael said. "He knows what you’ve been doing. He knows where the camp is and who leads us. If another caravan gets hit now, there won’t be any question about who did it."

Marcus leaned back, still unconcerned, fingers against the edge of the map. "And if we let it pass, what then?"

"We take the contract."

"No."

Kael’s jaw tightened, though he kept his voice under control, since he had expected Marcus to dig in. "Then find another one. But this can’t continue."

Marcus turned toward the canvas wall as voices drifted past outside. The camp had been restless since Adrien left, and men had begun asking aloud why they still lived off stolen shipments while steady work waited in front of them.

"That caravan fixes our problems," Marcus said. "One job. We take enough to keep everyone fed for months, repair equipment and put Crowns back into the company."

"You’ve said that before."

"This one is different."

"No, it isn’t. It’s the same thing, Marcus. Open your eyes. You’re going to bring us all down with you."

Kael’s answer came without hesitation. Marcus’s eyes returned to him, and Kael did not look away.

"The first caravan was supposed to keep us going until another contract came. Then there was another because the money wasn’t enough. Then another because we needed equipment. Every time, you said there was a reason."

Marcus’s expression hardened as the calm drained out of it, yet his voice stayed low. "And everyone ate."

"That’s not the point."

"It is when you’re responsible for a hundred and twenty-six other people, and their families."

Kael had respected Marcus for years, and most of the company had as well. The man had built the Bloodfang Wolves into something people wanted to join and had carried them alive through contracts that should have buried them. That history was the only reason Kael kept arguing. If Marcus had always been this way, he would have stopped expecting him to listen long ago.

"You aren’t doing this for them anymore."

Marcus rose slowly and planted both hands on the table, the warning in his stare immediate. "Careful what you say next."

"I’m not trying to insult you. I’m telling you what everyone can see."

Kael gestured toward the entrance, where every man outside would carry whatever Marcus decided.

"They want the Clairmont contract. Maybe not every person, but most do. They want pay. They want to send Crowns home without wondering if those Crowns will get them arrested later."

Marcus stared at him without speaking, anger plain on his face, and Kael pressed on.

"And Adrien gave us a way out. He could’ve brought soldiers here. He could’ve treated everyone in this camp like criminals, and instead he offered work."

"Under him."

"That’s what a contract is."

"That’s obedience. He’ll treat us like slaves after what we’ve done."

"No it’s not, you idiot. It’s a job. A legal one, like any other."

Neither of them raised his voice, though the air inside the tent had thickened. Marcus lowered his eyes to the route marked on the map. "You think they’ll respect us after this?"

"I think they’ll pay us."

"And when Clairmont no longer needs us?"

"Then we find another contract like we’ve always done."

Kael stepped closer, refusing to let the argument wander. This was likely his last chance to make Marcus understand.

"But if you attack that caravan after Adrien warned us to stop, this stops being something you can explain as desperation. He’ll come back with soldiers next time, and he’d be right to."

Marcus’s hand rested against the table. For several seconds he said nothing, long enough that Kael wondered whether the words had reached him. Then his shoulders loosened and some of the anger left his face.

"Fine."

Kael watched him carefully, because the answer had come far more easily than he expected. "Fine?"

"You’re right."

Marcus folded the paper once and slid it into his coat, most of the earlier edge gone from his voice. "We leave the caravan alone. I’ll speak to some people tomorrow and see what other work is available."

The stiffness went out of Kael’s shoulders. Marcus sounded willing to step away at last. "That’s all I’m asking."

Marcus nodded and moved toward the entrance, stopping only to glance back. "I need to clear my head. Tell the others there’s nothing happening tonight."

"I will."

Marcus left without another word, and Kael gathered the papers with the first real hope in days that the company might avoid destroying itself.

Outside, Marcus crossed the camp without pausing. He passed the cooking fires and the supply tents and kept walking toward a smaller clearing behind the stores, where twenty mercenaries waited for him. Their weapons were already prepared, packs rested beside their feet, and men checked straps and armour.

One of them stepped forward. "Are we still going?"

Marcus glanced back once toward the centre of the camp, then drew the folded route from inside his coat. Whatever agreement Kael believed they had reached had lasted less than a minute.

"Yes."

He handed the paper over. "Get ready. We leave before dawn, and we take the caravan before it reaches the southern road."