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Firefoot · 09-01-2004, 05:47 PM

Harold had watched passively and coldly when Samuel left the room, a single tear falling down his face. He always preferred persuading people to breaking them to his will, but sometimes people needed to be broken. Harold only did what needed doing. If Samuel had been stronger willed he wouldn’t have come in here complaining that he could not leave with a clear conscience. It never occurred to Harold that perhaps if Samuel had been stronger willed he would not have given in to going. He did not dwell on it, and returned to business.

He was packed up, except for perishable food supplies. Those could be gotten together in the morning, or later that night. The next thing that needed doing was the hiring of mercenaries. He was resigned to needing to pay them, and then trust them to do their job. He wouldn’t trust them, really, but he had to leave them. There was an inn a few miles up the road. Harold knew that sometimes mercenaries without work stayed there. The day was passing to mid-afternoon already, but Harold thought that he could be there and back before full dark.

For the third time that day, Harold headed out to the stables. It had stopped drizzling, but clouds were gathering again; he figured on more rain coming soon. He selected a chestnut mare for his ride into town. She was a speedy horse, but she would not be taken when they left because of her bad ankles. As he rode out, he saw Samuel headed for Arthur’s estates. Harold called out, “You may tell Arthur that I am headed into town to hire some mercenaries.” Then he passed out of earshot.

Harold made it to the inn in reasonable time. He had not pushed the mare beyond a steady canter, ground-eating but not too tiring. He tied her outside the inn and went inside. Once his eyes adjusted to the dim interior, he realized that there were not many people inside the common room yet, due to the early hour. He did find what he had been looking for, however: a small group of men standing to the side, marked by their swords and bearing to be soldiers. Harold nodded once to himself. They should work. He walked over there.

“Good day to you,” he said. “I have a proposition...”

09-01-2004, 05:47 PM	#38
Firefoot Illusionary Holbytla Join Date: Dec 2003 Posts: 7,547	Harold had watched passively and coldly when Samuel left the room, a single tear falling down his face. He always preferred persuading people to breaking them to his will, but sometimes people needed to be broken. Harold only did what needed doing. If Samuel had been stronger willed he wouldn’t have come in here complaining that he could not leave with a clear conscience. It never occurred to Harold that perhaps if Samuel had been stronger willed he would not have given in to going. He did not dwell on it, and returned to business. He was packed up, except for perishable food supplies. Those could be gotten together in the morning, or later that night. The next thing that needed doing was the hiring of mercenaries. He was resigned to needing to pay them, and then trust them to do their job. He wouldn’t trust them, really, but he had to leave them. There was an inn a few miles up the road. Harold knew that sometimes mercenaries without work stayed there. The day was passing to mid-afternoon already, but Harold thought that he could be there and back before full dark. For the third time that day, Harold headed out to the stables. It had stopped drizzling, but clouds were gathering again; he figured on more rain coming soon. He selected a chestnut mare for his ride into town. She was a speedy horse, but she would not be taken when they left because of her bad ankles. As he rode out, he saw Samuel headed for Arthur’s estates. Harold called out, “You may tell Arthur that I am headed into town to hire some mercenaries.” Then he passed out of earshot. Harold made it to the inn in reasonable time. He had not pushed the mare beyond a steady canter, ground-eating but not too tiring. He tied her outside the inn and went inside. Once his eyes adjusted to the dim interior, he realized that there were not many people inside the common room yet, due to the early hour. He did find what he had been looking for, however: a small group of men standing to the side, marked by their swords and bearing to be soldiers. Harold nodded once to himself. They should work. He walked over there. “Good day to you,” he said. “I have a proposition...”