The Humble Life of a Skill Trainer

It was almost laughable how easy it was for Mason to get us back into the city. A few hours hiding under the stinking fur covers, and we were rolling up to the gate. The sound of annoyed peasants surrounded us as we approached the entrance. Which made no sense, the gate guards could barely be bothered to do their job when a wagon train came in, let alone individual travelers. But we spent more than twenty minutes just waiting to enter the city. When our cart reached the gateway, the guard called out for his sergeant, and then we were moving through town at a fair clip with a mounted escort.

What followed was an odd sight that I would have liked to enjoy. The mounted guards surrounded the wagon and acted as an honor guard for a load of stinking furs. Although Snowy was probably safe now, neither Snowy nor I pulled ourselves out of the pelts. After having a mercenary band after us, we were taking no chances, and an arrow from a cross-street was still a possibility. We had to get Snowy into the keep where the avenues of attack were better covered.

When we finally reached the keep and crawled out, it was quickly apparent that something was wrong. While I followed Snowy further into the keep, the guards made an effort to avoid my gaze. Suddenly, everyone was busy looking somewhere else. They didn’t seem upset or ashamed, I wasn’t worried that we were walking into an ambush or anything. But I had a sinking feeling that my secret was out.

Following behind Mason, Snowy, and Sergeant Baker, I noticed the number of guards stationed within the keep. The main pathways of the keep had at least one guard. The sound of the Baron’s voice was booming through the keep, and as we approached the Baron’s private study, it became clear.

“…I don’t care! Find her!” shouted the Baron before Sergeant Baker opened the door.

Behind his desk, the Baron slumped at the sight of Snowy and relaxed as he gestured the Captain of the Guard away. Before he could make his escape, the Baron told him to guard the door.

Once the guards left, the Baron rose from his chair and gave his daughter a gigantic hug. Mason snickered from the sight as the two of us sat, while Snowy tried to calm the Baron. I had a feeling that the Baron would want to talk to me. I wanted to escape any further entanglements, but I had little hope.

While Snowy grabbed an oversized chair that looked to be the Baron’s favorite resting place, the Baron returned to sitting behind his desk. I could see the moment that the Baron had regained his stability, the subtle routine of rubbing the armrests seeming to soothe him. Facing Mason, he coughed before he said, “Grandmaster Mason, I thank you for getting them back.”

Snowy and I both jumped in surprise at the title. A Grandmaster was a rare thing. Most kingdoms wouldn’t recognize someone as a Grandmaster without the skill being a high tier as well as a high skill level. Grandmaster cooks were exclusive to kings, Grandmaster smiths made weapons that were the pride of noble lines for generations, a Grandmaster combatant was a one-man army.

Quickly, Mason pointed at both of us, “No one should be hearing about that, you hear me?”

We nodded in agreement. I could understand Mason’s want of privacy, and I would be the last to spread it around. Though I would make an effort to see if I could get some training from the man. A Grandmaster was too rare to not at least try to learn from.

Rubbing his forehead, the Baron then turned to me and sighed, “Mr. Still, I am sorry to say that your secret is out.”

I nodded calmly. My guess about the looks was correct, though this was one time I would have been happy to be wrong.

“The communication scroll was stolen from my desk. One of the maids is missing, but I doubt that she had anything to do with it. I expect poor Milly is lying in a shallow grave somewhere,” said the Baron.

Snowy leaned forward in her chair, catching the Baron’s attention.

“The communication scroll said that there had been an assassination attempt. We were ambushed on the way back. We killed the ambushers and made camp to deal with our minor injuries. Joshua used a charm to protect our camp from prying eyes. A group of mercenaries passed us the next day. On the way back, they passed on the road twice. What happened here while they were searching for us?” Snowy asked.

Raising his eyebrow at this, the Baron called for the Captain of the Guard. While Snowy described the mercenaries, and especially their horses, the Baron was rubbing his chin in thought. Once the Captain had the description, the Baron sent him off to try and capture them, though none of us had much hope. By now, it was likely they had someone watching for Snowy, and the guards weren’t exactly subtle with their honor guard.

The Baron frowned before he answered, “Someone poisoned my wine, so that was true enough. Though I didn’t find out that the scroll was missing until I went looking for it to call you back.”

“Someone burned the scroll around noon yesterday. They probably thought we were near the hunting mansion and hoped that burning it would give us away,” I said.

While the three of us nodded in worry, Mason pulled out a dagger and started to pick his teeth with it. Which couldn’t have been an effective toothpick, but I’m sure he was just trying to show his lack of care for the subject.

I began, “Not to be disrespectful, Sir, but there is still the matter of my pay and the compensation for my secret. We both know I won’t use the punishment option within the contract. Not just because I respect Snowy…I mean, Snow-in-Blood,” then stumbled for a second with my use of Snowy’s nickname.

To my concern, the moment I said my nickname for her, the Baron gave me a narrow-eyed look. I think this was the moment he realized that he sent his unwed daughter into the forest alone with a young man. Mason just smiled at the awkward pause and I could see a sick enjoyment on his wrinkled face, the smile split by his dagger toothpick spreading even wider.

Giving me a frown, one that became deeper when Snowy tried to hide her smile, the Baron continued, “Your home was damaged, I've ordered it repaired. It was mostly furniture and the like. I spent quite a lot of money getting Mister Carten to retire here as a favor to your parents. I’m sorry to say that the evil bastard served his purpose.”

I started to speak, but the Baron waved me back, “No, no, I know the things he did before he retired. He was an unrepentant evil bastard. Let it go. Leave it to say a great many dead are now avenged with his death. The only reason I didn’t order him killed was he served a purpose and he committed no crimes on my lands. No, the real issue is your secret. Fixing your home is cheap in comparison. I’ve already ordered the carpenters to work.”

Watching my face, the Baron stood and removed something from his desk, then seated himself and handed it to me.

“Here. This should do it,” the Baron said with a satisfied smile.

Breaking the seal and then unrolling the scroll, I was surprised to see it was an official writ of support. I was now the Barony’s official Skill Trainer. I was now The Right Honorable Master Skill Trainer, Joshua Still. The Writ went on to say I had official support in my duties. The right to a certain number of guards for my guild hall - my alchemy shop - and a low mark of nobility. It wasn’t an inheritable title of nobility, it was assigned to my skill rank and any apprentice I should train and promote in my place. Though I did notice this came with taxes for the title and it tied me to the Baron. According to this Writ, while I would be shielded from overt actions while in the Barony, it would be unlikely to protect me from subtle attacks. This also meant the Baron could reserve my time and effort at a small discount for his own service.

I stared at the Writ for a few minutes, trying to work out the positives and negatives of the deal. There were other minor factors, like a small tithe the Baron would owe me for upkeep and improvement to my shop. A minimum service per year from the Baron to ensure I always had some work. This also made sure he had the first right to my assistance. As well as a small bonus for services already rendered, and so on.

Closing my eyes, I pressed at the contract spell and the magic agreed that this was at least equivalent to the value I had placed on my secret and the relative fault the Baron had in my secret being exposed. Frankly, it felt as much like a leash as a pot of gold. As far as I was aware, no Skill Trainer openly practiced anywhere in the Kingdom. This could be just what I needed to improve my skills further, who knew what kind of cross-training this could offer me. There had never been a Grandmaster Teacher or Trainer, as far as I knew. Given enough time and working openly, this could be what made that possible.

Rolling up the scroll, I tied tight the ribbons and slipped the manuscript under my arm.

“Very well, Sir. I agree.”

The Baron smiled at me in a way I wasn’t comfortable with, and that reminded me that nobles always had an agenda.

“Excellent. I am now invoking the ‘dire needs’ by-line of your Writ. I require your services to train my guards in resistance skills. The assassin was working for Baron Mard, and I’m going to want them trained to march in the cold so I can knock his bloody head off,” he said with a savage smile.

Mason laughed at my predicament, but his laughter cut short when the Baron let him know that he was being conscripted as well.

“Mard wants my land. His land borders mine and ‘bandits’ have been coming across the border for years now. If Snow-in-Blood and I had died, he could have swooped in to ‘restore order,’ against banditry. I’m not sure how the mercenaries connected Master Still with this. If it was one of your former customers, then I’ll let you know so you can apply corrective actions,” the Baron said.

I could only agree with that. Whoever had leaked my secret had endangered my life as well as Snowy’s. The Baron would obviously give me carte-blanche to do what I wanted to them in turn.