NOVEL NEXT Chapter Fifty One Borrowed Time
Lothar nibbled at his cold breakfast without enthusiasm. One advantage of living in an inn was being able to get a cooked breakfast whenever you liked.
On the other hand, The Smashed Marbles was full of distractions. Being alone gave him time to think. He pulled up his current list of missions.
KILL PRINCESS EYOTA
KILL WYNTER BLAIR
FORCE RAIMY MOLLEKER TO GET MARRIED
RECRUIT ARMY FOR GENERAL FEI
RAID DEEPWOOD DUNGEON
It felt like a long time since he had strategized his next steps. The Sargassian invasion had left him reacting to events, stealing his ability to make choices.
His next big move would be sending the Rotten Apples into Kuthenia. He had all but decided he should go with them. It looked like being a long-term campaign, and he would struggle to control things if he stayed in Avolo.
What missions should he complete before they left? Killing Princess Eyota felt necessary. She was too dangerous to ignore.
Wynter Blair was less of a threat, but he wanted her gone. It wasn't only his anger at what she had done to Ashlyn, and his promise to the girl that he would exact the appropriate punishment. It was also the damage to his reputation if he allowed her to get away with it.
The situation with Raimy Molleker was different. It wasn't Lothar's job to force people to marry when they didn't want to—even when they had agreed on the wedding, and there was already a child of the union on its way. On the other hand, it would harm his relationship with Urkal Foberoy if he didn't.
Finally, there was Deepwood Dungeon. It had been the first target of the Guild of Dungeoneers. If it was raided under the auspices of the Rotten Apples, it might persuade his mercs to stay with him. The barrow maps had encouraged him to explore the Deepwood. Perhaps that had been a trap set by the necromancer? But Lothar had destroyed the sorcerer. What if all that remained was the wealth of the Sargassian Empire, just waiting to be claimed?
A light knock at the door. Lothar opened it to find Odafe 'Smoke' Negedu, his premier nightblade.
"Come in. Eaten yet?"
This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.
"No. I've heard good things about the food here." Smoke followed Lothar into the kitchen where his eyes fell on his meagre breakfast. "Oh."
"Yeah, well. Rosalind doesn't make every meal for me, you know."
"Sure, chommie. I get it. I'll eat the ham for you."
"I'm honoured. I presume you have news?"
"The merc crew you wanted tailed. They've left the city. West gate."
"Huh." Lothar wasn't waiting and hoping Anke would change her mind and join the Rotten Apples. But she might have had the good grace to let him know her decision. She owed him that much.
"You want them followed?"
Lothar wanted to know what Anke was up to. But he already had five missions on his plate. "Nah. We'll have to leave them for now. I need to know where Wynter and Rake have got to. They were last seen in Eisenberg."
"Want them to disappear?"
"No. People need to know who kills Wynter. And Rake needs bringing in alive. I just want to know where they are for now."
"I'll find them. No one hides from Smoke."
***
Cutting grass was a monotonous job, but Oripione liked it. Her mind would disappear, and her body would take over. The scythe cut in an arc, requiring considerable effort, as her upper body twisted back and forth. She cut one long strip, turning at the far end of the oblong shaped field and coming back the other way. She would earn her meal at the end of the day, that was for sure.
The meagre farming skills she had picked up were a surprise bonus to her time spent at the Gerd farm. Most important, of course, was the time she spent with Femke. The woman was clever, and a good teacher. She was also kind enough to say Oripione was a quick learner.
One of your mercs improved their stats:
Oripione:
New skill: Medic
She thought Stiff would be pleased with her progress. She didn't know what Lord Seregin would make of it.
A figure approached from the far end of the field. She stopped her efforts. Christoph nodded appreciatively. "Good work."
"I'm not as skilled as you," she said ruefully, gesturing at the ground. "I can't help but make a mess."
Somehow, Christoph left his clumps of grass in tidy piles, making it easier to collect.
"Don't worry. The main thing is to get it cut. I'm sorry for any negativity you've had."
"Negativity?"
"The comments of some of the field hands."
She shrugged. "Oh. They were nothing. I've had far worse."
"Still, you shouldn't have had them at all."
Christoph and his family were so nice. The place was truly a little idyll, as if it existed beyond the real world.
"We have visitors. They're asking after you."
Oripione nodded. She knew she had been living on borrowed time.
Femke and Wade waited with their guests in the kitchen of the farmhouse. Valnor was there, along with a collection of the veteran warriors of the Rotten Apples. Swords, axes, and bows were on display. Clearly, fighting was expected.
Oripione couldn't help noticing they were all victims of the Sargassians, in one way or another. "You're going after the princess," she said.
"Very perceptive," said Mental.
"Stiff said we should stop by," said Greenblade. The girl looked awkward, looking at the floor rather than people's eyes. "To check on your progress here. He felt a medic would be a good idea. As a just in case."
"Femke has trained me well. I am ready."
"Doesn't mean you have to go," said Femke.
It was a strange idea. Of course she did. "I am ready," she repeated, not knowing what else to say.
"Well," said Femke, "we appreciate your help on the farm. Here," she said, offering her a parcel. "I've made you a lunch packet. You can't go off without some sustenance."