“Mention food and we’ll get Leon down here, even if it’s in the middle of a pig sty,” Torgar said with a deep laugh. “Heard he’s having a hard time getting his delicacies with all the guilds running amok. Shall I bring the boy with me on my duties, milord?”
Madelyn’s glare was a clear no, and that was enough to make up Laurie’s mind.
“Aye, you should,” he said. “Remember, Taras, I have given Torgar charge in these matters, not you, so do not contradict him unless absolutely necessary.”
Taras could hardly contain his excitement. He hadn’t been to Karak’s city of stone since he was nine, and his memories had long faded into worthless patches of images.
“Come,” he shouted to Torgar. “The city’s waiting for us!”
He galloped off, the sellsword dashing after. Madelyn scowled and looked away. When Laurie saw this, he felt anger growing in his chest.
“He must learn responsibility in these matters,” he said. “Dealing with the other members of the Trifect will do him good.”
“It’ll do him dead,” Madelyn said. “You send your own son into Veldaren with a single mercenary to guard his back? We’ll find them tossed aside in the street, rotting in the sewers, all because you’d rather camp under stars and save yourself an orc-scrap of coin.”
“Mind your tongue, woman,” Laurie said.
For a minute they rode in silence, Laurie’s horse trotting slowly behind the wagon as Madelyn sat with crossed arms atop her cushions. When the wagon halted suddenly, Laurie veered to side. They’d come to the first of the hills, and slowly the lead riders were heading off into the high grass, moving carefully with men on foot scouting ahead to make sure no holes or sudden dips threatened their wagon wheels.
“We’re here,” Laurie said. “We’ll have a comfortable camp set up for you in no time.”
“No you won’t,” Madelyn said. “I’m going home. Our real home.”
When Laurie glared, she glared back.
“You promised,” she reminded him.
The man swallowed, swishing his tongue side to side as if swallowing something distasteful.
“I will miss you dearly,” he said. “But go to the city if you must. I’ll get you an escort. Two armed men traveling together may not appeal much to the mob, but a gaggle of servant girls and a noble lady in her litter will prove a different matter entirely.”
He rode away in a far fouler mood than when he’d returned from the gate.
Ethric had been involved in many riots, but he’d never seen one created so spontaneously out of so little. He walked down the middle of the open street, almost euphoric at the chaos. Karak, being a god of order before his banishment by Celestia, should have frowned upon such activities, but Ethric felt them lift his heart. The only thing worse than chaos was false order, the kind established by faithless kings and the worshippers of Ashhur. Let chaos burn down the falsehood like fire upon a crumbling home. From the ashes, he and his kind would build anew.
At the western gate he came across a filthy beggar sitting beside the road. He was blind, and before him was a clay pot. Ethric watched as a chubby merchant wearing red and purple silks atop his tunic tossed in a handful of coins. Before the merchant could escape, the dark paladin was there, grabbing his arm while stabbing his sword into the pot.
“Let go of me,” the merchant shouted as he tried to wrench his arm away. Ethric’s grip did not release. When he pulled the sword out of the pot, the sharp tip had pierced through the center of one of the coins.
“What charity is this?” Ethric asked as black fire surrounded the blade.
“Help for those less fortunate,” said the chubby man as he looked around for someone to aid him. There were none. Everyone recognized Ethric’s black armor, the dark flame of his blade, and the white lion skull painted on his breastplate. Just like the priests of Karak, the paladins were forbidden from entering Veldaren, but when inside they were never seen. Better to safely ignore the darkness than call it out and risk death.
“Shall you buy your way into eternity?” asked Ethric. The coin slowly melted, the copper dripping down the length, bubbling and popping. “If copper to a blind man saves your soul, imagine your rewards if you threw gold to the feet of a truly holy man.”
“You’re evil,” the merchant said. Ethric felt impressed by his courage.