For Cause or Coin? (Valanaer & WriteMood)

[Sarah]

Merek yawned as his eyes slowly opened, light warming his face and rousing his senses. It seemed the shade from the tree had allowed him to continue sleeping until near mid-day but the light inevitably interrupted his dream of a wonderful day lazing in bed with a beautiful woman. It wasn't an unusual dream for the man, nor was it so odd for his reality, his lucrative job funding his rather extravagant lifestyle. Beautiful women, fine wines and food, even the items he carried were of the best craftsmanship. That being said he was constantly on the move going wherever money was to be made. He was currently in one such place, a country in the turmoil, a corrupt and wealthy aristocracy using mercenaries to fight the rebel forces. It was common knowledge that the insurrection wasn't being quelled so easily though, the righteous rebel forces decimating everything thrown at them. It was to the point that the "so-called" leaders of the nation had begun to spend all their precious wealth on the best mercenaries, extending invitations to the larger and more infamous groups and even extending such an invitation to him. It was an invitation he fully intended to accept if the coin was right, not that he didn't find his possible employers to be disgusting but he didn't much care who he killed as long as there was plenty of coin to keep him entertained afterwards.

Thoughts of money in his future motivated Merek to rise from his comfy position beneath the tree and onto his feet, releasing another small yawn as he did. The man reached up and brushed a leaf out of his hair and dusted his clothing off before retrieving his things. He didn't travel with much, the clothes on his back, a small pack with a few 'essentials', and his rather unique and perfectly balanced sword. His essentials were merely some food, a few odd trinkets, more than a few golden coins, and a bottle of strong alcohol. He never traveled anywhere without a stiff drink and that was just for the road, whenever he stopped at an tavern or city he would drink more and refill his own, never running out if he could help it. With everything situated he let out one final yawn before continuing his journey through the woods, having previously seen the map and still being pretty sure he was on the right path. Of course he could be wrong but his sense of direction was usually quite precise. Not that he would mind getting lost for a day or two if it came to that, the woods in the country were incredibly lush and peaceful and with the warm climate of the region it was quite relaxing. Besides, the money he received would not be impacted by the date of his arrival, he would get his fee and fight until the job was done. Yes, he would enjoy the peace for as long as he fate willed it, though it seemed that it wouldn't last long.

It wasn't long before the sound of song birds turned to a much different and more familiar sound. It took him a moment but he soon recognized the sound of clashing steel and it was nearby, his interest immediately peeked as he wondered what he was about to stumble upon. Merek walked casually towards the sound, heading into a clearing before he actually had any visual of what was going on. It wasn't a sight he had expected to see, there were a good number of bodies, a few wearing uniforms and the others dressed in random armor of all sorts. When he looked up he figured out what was going on, a group of four soldiers had surrounded someone and were attempting to circle and finish off the opponent. It wasn't very interesting to Merek until he noticed who exactly they were fighting, an insanely gorgeous female warrior, a rarity to say the least on any battlefield. She was quite something and as he watched her fend off the men he just couldn't help himself. The side of him that would rather avoid such a troublesome thing was quickly overturned by his weakness for a beautiful woman.

"Oh Merek, when will you learn?" With a chuckle the male sat his pack down and drew his sword, walking about halfway to the men before taking off in a run towards them. Their was no sound or warning before his sword opened the man up from the back, leaving a deep lethal cut. A smirk rose on his face as the other three turned, it was too late for another as the blade extended forward and pierced his throat. Merek brought his sword back and put a little distance between him and the two others, both of them backing up with eyes wide. Merek had left plenty of room for the beautiful damsel in distress to move away from her assailants and he would soon make short work of the others. He didn't hesitate to move back in, it was best to take them out before they regained their composure, blocking a measly attempt at a counter before slashing through the chest of the first of the remaining two and then dropping down with a swooping attack to cut the mans legs and sending him screaming to the ground. He walked over the man and shoved his sword down into him, ending the misery before wiping his blood-stained blade on the soldiers tunic. He shoved it back inside it's sheath before turning to address the reason for his heroic deed, a small mischievous grin on his face. "Looked like you needed some help, just thought I would lend a hand."

 

[WriteMood]

(I regret to say that the picture link isn't working for me.)

The caravan was almost here and Rasta could feel the tension emanating from her men. Each one of them were tried and true warriors who had fought in several skirmishes with her. It was because of their tensions, their lack of cocky behavior, that she believed they won. No man got so caught up in his own skills that he thought himself invincible. Untouchable. Those that held themselves on such a pedestal often found it, and their legs, cut out from under them in a bloody swoop.

The sound of wagons and horses cut through the quiet woods and she lifted her hand and made a fist in a silent command that her men ready. There would be plenty of soldiers with this delivery. It was wares and goods destined for an encampment. Cutting this off would help turn the tide for a different rebel group led by her cousin.

Closer. Just a little more. Close, you bastards. She let the first few wagons pass until the approximate middle of the caravan was before her. Now

She stood and walked out of the brush, sword and dagger still in their sheaths. "Ho!" she called. "You venture in enemy territory, sirs. Turn back, leave the goods, and your worthless lives shall be spared."

A man made his way toward her on a lone horse, his decorated armor proclaiming him a general. "Out of here, wench, before I cut your pretty face in half to remove that tongue of yours."

She smiled up at him, genuinely amused by his threat. "You were warned."

With a shrill war cry, her men emerged from the bush and battle ensued. It didn't take long for her to realize they had been set up. Soldiers removed the cloth tarps from two wagons to reveal more soldiers than what her scouts had reported and what she'd plan for. Her small contingency wasn't matched for the even numbers. She curse, unsheathing her dagger as well as her sword. Today was not the day for her to hold back.

What followed was a whirlwind of action as she spun, cut, and dodged her way through enemies. Foe after foe fell. Friend after friend cried out nearby as they were felled by the enemy. After an hour of battle, Rasta stood panting, spatters of blood dotting her skin and armor alike. Her legs were swore and she hated to admit it, but she was getting tired. Four men surrounded her, jeering at her as the took turns prodding her, testing her defenses.

"All your men are dead, bitch," the general from earlier sneered. "Give it up and we'll spare your worthle--" A strangled noise replaced his words and, to her surprise, then man fell face-forward, back split open.

A man--a sexy, strange man that she'd never seen before--stood on the other side of the corpse. Before she could blink he was attacking the others. His form was good, better than most of the men she'd fought beside for years. His armor covered him well, but she imagined he was very toned underneath it. He dispatched another man, and then the next within but a few breaths.

"Looked like you needed some help, just thought I would lend a hand,' the man said to her when the dust began to settle.

She looked at the corpses, at the man, then at his sword. "Bravo, sirrah. I do believe your swordsmanship is the best yet I've encountered." Her mind moved quickly as she weighed her options. "Come, catch one of the horses while I grab a wagon. When we get to camp, I'll send some more out to bring back the rest."

She used the edge of her shirt to give her blades a quick wipe, then headed toward a wagon without waiting for his answer. Surely he was on the side of the resistance, or he wouldn't have helped her. The soldier's uniforms from the aristocracy had been very plain, and yet he had cut them down without mercy.

"I am Rasta," she said as she swung up into the seat of a wagon and grabbed the reins. "You are?"

 

[Sarah]

Merek had always been one to enjoy a compliment and that went double when it came from a beautiful face. He was less pleased to hear of a camp though, it had not been part of his plans to go anywhere, much less a camp. It wasn't until then that he looked down and really inspected the fallen soldiers uniform. The man sighed, they had been part of the organization he was currently on his way to join which meant the woman he had just saved was probably a rebel. It didn't bother him that much though, he still had hopes of a reward for his valuable services and he doubted anyone in the aristocracy would care about him killing a few lowly soldiers if it meant getting the location of a rebel camp, in fact he could probably squeeze a bit more gold out of the bastards with information like that. Perhaps he could even wipe the camp out if it was small enough, though judging by the woman's skill he had a feeling she wasn't with a small group, no doubt she was part of one of the larger sections of the rebellion.

"I suppose a little trip won't hurt..." Of course he expected a reward of some sort when he arrived, preferably some alone time with the beautiful woman in front of him but if it was monetary he could deal with that as well, use it to keep himself entertained. That being said she was quite beautiful, the kind of woman that you didn't see very often, much less get a chance at being with, so he was going to try and play his 'savior' card right before anything else. Whatever happened didn't really matter but he was always one to go along and be a little adventurous, and following a mysterious beauty to a possible rebel camp definitely counted as an adventure and one that could lead to an incredible reward.

Hesitation wasn't one of Merek's traits, proven by his rash decision to kill the soldiers and followed up by him quickly agreeing to go with the female warrior. So he sheathed his sword and retrieved his pack from the ground before heading to grab himself one of the many horses. He was rather picky though even if it was simply for a horse and he looked at the lot of them before picking one out, a rather large brown stallion with his head held high. "Ah yes, you'll do..." He put his back on the saddle and gave the horse a good pat on the head before heaving himself up. He wasn't usually one to ride horses, he preferred to walk wherever he went and not get attached to an animal but if he had to ride one he would and he definitely knew how. The horse didn't seem so pleased to have the new rider on its back but it was well trained and kept its cool, a soft nay as it adjusted to the weight.

Merek didn't pay the horse any mind though, he wasn't so interested in its dislike of his presence, he had chosen it out of all of them and that wasn't going to change, difficult or not he would be riding the stallion. Besides, he couldn't let it look foolish in front of his new acquaintance. "Glad to meet such a beauty as yourself Rasta, I am Merek." Usually he would be more forward and introduce himself as a mercenary or something of the sort but it didn't seem like such a good idea on the chance his assumption of her affiliation happened to be correct. "So tell me lovely, how far away is this camp of yours hmm?" A small smirk graced his lips as he looked at her, not hiding his wandering eyes as he imagined what lay beneath her armor. It wasn't hard to do, her face was beautiful and while the armor did hide the true figure of her form he had quite the imagination and had seen his fair share, so he had a pretty good idea.

 

[WriteMood]

Rasta caught herself watching the man's backside as he chose a horse. She noticed he was meticulous about it. It said worlds about his nature and she knew she needed as much information about him as possible before they arrived at the camp. Alric, her cousin and co-leader, would be furious she'd brought a new man in without speaking to him about it first. Knowing as much as she could about this man--this Merek--might allay his anger.

Merek chose a tall brown stallion, the same one as the general had been riding, and she fought a smirk. Well, the man definitely had an ego, that was for sure. Of course, with his sword fighting skills, Rasta had a feeling he'd earned every bit of his ego. He had not only been accurate when he'd cut those soldiers down, but brutal as well. The blows he'd dealt had been for killing, not for maiming or the actions of a man hesitant to inflict death. So...egotistical, damn good with a sword, and one who did not back out on his decisions once he made them.

With a flick of the reins, she urged the horses harnessed to the first wagon to start moving. They snorted and tossed their heads, but didn't show half the spirit Merek's brute of a stallion did. She didn't envy her savior...

At the thought she angled her head to stare at him from the corner of her eyes. Savior? Yes, that's exactly what he'd done. He'd saved her from being raped, murdered, or both at the hands of those men...all without even knowing her name.

He probably does know who I am. Afterall, most people know about Rasta, daughter of one of the wealthiest landholders in our country. She shook her head. Well, we were wealthy. Once we stood up against the aristocracy, we became a bunch of untitled rebels. When we win, my families fortune will be returned. Her mouth set in a grim line at the thought.

Upon his question she shaded her eyes and looked up at the sun then used the mountain range in the distance to judge their position. "Should be there before more than a hand span of time passes," she said, indicating the sun's path.

She glanced over and noticed his eyes were roving over her, reminding her of a hungry predator. A blush threatened to burn her cheeks, but Rasta set her face forward to stare at the horse's backs. This Merek was appealing, but she had a feeling he was like most men and bedded everything that came his way. To be honest, he was probably aroused from the adrenaline rush that accompanies fighting. The men in the camp spoke of that death-based-lust often.

Needing to find something to occupy his and her mind, she glanced at him again. "I thank you, Sir Merek, for coming to my aid. I am grateful we'll have you on our side in the coming great battle. I shudder to think of how poorly my friends and I would fair had you decided to join the Aristocrats. Where did you learn such wonderful battle skills?"

 

[Sarah]

The horse didn't give Merek much trouble, he had a way of handling creatures with spirit and that was to simply give them the respect that they deserved. Sure he thought highly of himself, his skills having built up quite the level of confidence and in turn arrogance as well, but he would admit when a beast was grand or when someone else had skill as well, he was not blind. So as the horse gave him trouble he didn't attempt to tighten his grip of send harsh words at the beast in an attempt to calm it, he simply sat there and kept as cool as he could, not falling nor showing any signs of difficultly and letting the animal realize he was worthy of taking perch on its back. Of course he wasn't sure how long it would take to achieve that but he made it seem easy as he did, not even moving as it shook its head or pranced a bit, once again he was in no rush. He would rather go through a few minutes of annoyance than sit on the back of a lesser animal. Besides, he had an interesting woman to keep him company in the meantime.

He knew little of the woman though, he had assumptions but none of them were quite certain yet. Truth be told he knew little of the lands and war in which he had come to join, all he knew about the lands was the amount of coin he stood to make if things get well, and for Merek that was motivation enough. His once over had given him more confidence in his original assessment which was pleasing, her face was not the only fine part about the female. While the armor did a good job of covering the rest of her, a close observation gave a few, more subtle hints. He was still slightly disappointed about the camp, he would have preferred getting his reward against a tree or in the back of a wagon. Alas it was not to be, the camp was his destination, it couldn't be totally hopeless though, whether it be a rebel camp or not he could probably get something to eat and attempt to fulfill his fantasies.

Unfortunately before he could even reassure himself that he wasn't in the presence of one of the rebellion, Rasta went ahead and cleared up any doubt. Despite his hobbies and ruthlessness there was one thing that put a sour taste in Merek's mouth, lying. Sure it was necessary on occasion to continue breathing he didn't do it very often and even in such situations didn't really enjoy spouting off lies. So he didn't lie, he didn't exactly declare his intentions but he did not act as if he was there to join up. "Well, I am not sure you will have be in whatever great battle you're speaking of, I merely saved a beautiful woman for my own selfish reasons, I was not aware of your affiliations. As for my battle skills, that is a long story that starts with training in hopes of knighthood and then goes down a long path leading to my becoming a mercenary." That was the short version of the events that transpired, the long version wasn't easy to explain and certainly wasn't a happy one.

Her interest in him was a welcomed thing as far as Merek was concerned, he liked the attention of a beautiful woman and if his battle prowess could accomplish that he would gladly stay on the topic. "I got a peek at your fighting before I put those dogs down, even tired you fight quite well, defending yourself against four men. I would like to see you in combat when your rested, fighting one on one, I am sure it would be rather remarkable." The stallion seemed to have accepted Merek as his new rider by that time, its spirit still there but he was less resistant as Merek guided him forward a bit. "Lead the way Rasta, I am ready to see this camp of yours and to talk in a more, suitable environment.

 

[WriteMood]

As he spoke, Rasta found herself listening to his voice with intent. For being a rugged man of skill and form, his voice was rather appealing. It seemed she was doomed to keep company with a man who called to her body regardless how hard she tried to ignore it. He seemed a man who was far more educated than your typical barbaric steel wielder. When she focused on his words instead, her blood ran cold.

She pulled tightly on the reins and brought the wagon to a halt before half turning in her seat to stare at him. Her heart was pounding so loudly that it thudded in her ears and made her feel light headed for a moment. It was such a shame, she had to admit. She'd been looking forward to getting to know this man better. "Ah, well, I am afraid we have a problem, Sir Merek. You see, I can't allow you to go to the camp unless you will be enlisting. Though I am pleased with your help, and grateful for you saving my life, I can't risk the others."

Uncertain how he would take her words, she forced a smile on her face. There was no need for this to get ugly. Despite being a leader of the rebellion, Rasta found no joy in taking the life of others. It was one thing to gut a man who insulted and threatened her or her people, it was another to bring conflict to a man that she'd rather see as an ally.

She stood, letting the reins drop so that she could look down on the man. Her clothes creaked, the material starting to stiffen from the blood and sweat that had soaked pieces of it. What she wanted most was to get to the encampment and strip. It had taken a great deal of control thus far not to at least take off the top layer of leather armor to allow her to breathe easier, revealing the tunic below. "You must choose or we will part ways. Whether that be with both of us alive or not is your decision. You said you are a mercenary, yes? Perhaps...we could wager a deal?" Her gaze roved over him, sizing him up as she issued his choices.

 

[Sarah]

It was entertaining to see how dedicated she was to her comrades in the rebellion but he could find his way to the camp now, she had given him an approximate distance and he already knew the direction. Regardless there was no need to tip his hand, he simply stopped his horse and looked over at the woman, trying to calmly think over his next course of action, especially since she seemed so adamant. It was a tad amusing that she seemed confident when staring him down, most wouldn't be so fearless after seeing him in action but she didn't back down and faced him head on. At least she had the sense not to become angry at the drop of a hat and draw her blade, then they really would have had a problem. For the time they were just going to be having a conversation. He wasn't about to shrug it off and leave though, he hadn't been rewarded for his services, even if that meant requesting they get that part over with then and there instead before he headed in the direction of the mercenary meeting point.

"Well parting ways now would be rather unfortunate, I was looking forward to getting to know such a gorgeous woman such as yourself. Of course to be completely honest I could be happy with receiving some payment now..." He paused with an interesting look on his face when she spoke about working out some sort of deal in turn for his services. Not many would try and offer a future enemy payment to join them instead, apparently he had made quite some impression on the woman. "Well as interesting an offer as that is I don't think the rebellion has the spare funds to pay for my services, I am quite renowned, got a personal invitation from the aristocracy themselves, though so did any other cutthroat with any sort of reputation." He leaned forward on the horse and stroked its head calmly before looking back over at Rasta, "Though I am curious what kind of deal you had in mind, I don't only work for money, I have accepted compensation in other forms before."

Merek's voice had become a bit more serious, his eyes sharp as he looked at Rasta's face, they didn't wander from her at all, no hint of cheerfulness at all. He was studying Rasta, looking for hints of deception or truth in what came next, wanting to see if she really had any interest in having him join her or whether she wanted to lure a potential enemy to his death. He was no idiot like most mercenaries, being paid to kill attracted plenty of criminals and evil souls, dullards that wanted nothing more than to spill blood, people who found it fun to kill those weaker than themselves and get paid to do it. Merek was not of that persuasion, he had chosen the life of a mercenary not because he enjoyed killing. He had become a mercenary to fight in the battles of his own choosing, the money was just a bonus.

 

[WriteMood]

Rasta tried to push away the fact that he kept calling her gorgeous and attempted to focus on the other words he was saying. The words about him having an invite directly from the aristocracy itself. This was important news and an event she hadn't been aware of. Finding out the evil bastards were not only hiring swords, but going out of their way to hire practiced mercenaries was like a punch to the gut. She fought the urge to sway on her feet as she studied the implications in her head. The fighter before her was good. He was good enough that he could easily have saved more lives than her own had he been with her unit during the ambush. If their enemy was hiring more, like him, then the rebellion didn't have a chance.

And damn that Merek, but he was right. The rebellion wasn't faring well in the way of funds. They'd spent everything they could muster just to make sure their soldiers had actual armor and weapons instead of hoes and basic leathers. She loved her leathers, loved the range of motion it gave her, but most of those in the rebellion were brawlers and didn't know how to dodge. At least Merek had the decency to be obscure about the kind of payment he might be willing to receive.

She mulled it over as she weighed him. This man could turn the tide. Perhaps he knew other mercenaries, friends, that he could recruit for them. If they had all the skillful blades on their side, the war would be an easy win. The thought made Rasta's throat constrict with a lump of emotion. If she could spare many lives by pulling this one man to their side, then he'd be worth every coin. She'd even barter off her own dowry if she had to.

"I'll pay you personally," she blurted. Realizing how it could be taken, she hurried on. "My family is of noble birth. We back the rebellion because we don't agree with the aristocracy. We have coin, coin that doesn't belong to the rebels. I will pay you out of my own pocket if you win this war for us."

She continued to stare down at him, fighting to keep her emotions of her face. The coin she spoke of was real, but she would only have access to it if the rebels won. Otherwise, all she had was her dowry, and she doubted that was enough to hire someone like Merek. "What say you?" she asked in a stern tone, bluffing.

 

[Sarah]

It seemed Rasta was thinking over the situation quite seriously, on one hand he was a mercenary, if she could make it worth his while he didn't care about fighting for them. Besides, he hadn't pledged his allegiance to either side yet so if she wanted to try and compete with the insanely rich aristocracy he would hear her out, besides she had more to offer him than a bunch of desperate old me. His eyes still didn't leave her face despite his thoughts, he already knew she was beautiful and if he could con her into spending some alone time with him it could be a very lucrative exchange. Of course that was if she wanted to bother attempting to recruit him, it would be unusual as rebellions and poorer villages didn't often hire mercenaries, their funds going to supplies and keeping their people well taken care of. That being said it wouldn't be the first time, he had been hired by a few poor villages to take care of raiders and the like, to kill some weak rabble who merely terrorized those who couldn't fight back.

Her offer surprised him though, she said so rather suddenly and it was as genuine as he had ever seen. The only problem was that if she were living in some rebel camp it would be unlikely the money was there, the risk of it being stolen far too great and if they had been driven out of their home the wealth would have been difficult to get out. He didn't doubt she intended to pay him for his services but with how much he usually requested and her situation it was unlikely he would receive payment up front, and one of his rules when he took a job was payment immediately. Paying him out of her own pocket meant she really wanted him to join, that in and of itself brought a smirk upon his face as he realized just how good of a situation he was in. It was too bad really, she could have hidden some of the desperation in her voice and gotten a better deal, now he could have some fun.

"Well, honestly I am not sure. I usually request all payment immediately and the aristocracy is paying very large amounts for talented fighters..." He paused for a moment, straightening up and taking a deep breath, "Plus unless you were incredibly prepared I doubt you secured much of your families money at the rebel camp so chances are your not going to be able to pay me for quite some time." With his troubles announced for her to hear he let a grin creep onto his face, his eyes locking with hers as he thought over exactly how to word the last part, not wanting to be too obvious with his request. "Of course I would be more than happy to discuss some other form of compensation, some sort of down-payment so if things go south I at least get something out of all this... What do you think, is that so unreasonable to ask, that you give me something to tide me over until this little civil war is settled? If it's not then I believe we have a deal, one that can be worked at back at your camp."

Merek was fairly thrilled with the idea of compensation and if he was at the rebel camp he could definitely keep himself more entertained than being cooped up in a mercenary camp full of mostly nasty rodents. Besides, Rasta was more beautiful than most women and being around her would beat trying to find a clean girl in a town full of mercenaries, as the locals would no doubt avoid another section of land with those dirty slobs present. "If it is unreasonable I can simply leave here and seek out your enemies, they may not have a face as stunning as yours or the morale high-ground but when it comes to who I work for I don't much care as long as I get something I want out of the arrangement." In the current case he wanted Rasta, whatever else he could work in, and her promise of further reward in the future, but he would be just as happy with a large amount of gold when it came down to it.

 

[WriteMood]

Everything around her seemed to still and slow down. It was as if nothing else existed beyond them and their discussion. She knew the balance of the war hung on her decision here and it weighed greatly. How many lives would be saved it she bought him out? How many women would be spared losing husbands and sons? How many children would be spared losing one or both parents?

It wasn't that she believed one man could turn the tide of an entire war. No, it was that she believed one man could help her teach the others and bring in more mercenaries. She had absolutely no contact with their kind, and didn't have a clue where to start. Somehow, the idea of posting a writ in the inns didn't seem like the right way to go about it.

As he spoke, she felt her heart sink further and further into the pit of her stomach. Well, there went her dowry. If she offered him that, it might tide him over long enough to win the battle, and then she could pay him the rest of his sum. She'd have nothing to offer her future husband, but being a spinster was a much better alternative to simply being dead.

"I have coin...in the camp. It should be enough to suffice in acquiring your services for at least a little while." She realized she was starting to slouch into a submissive posture and drew herself up to her full height. "Of course, there is a risk. If we get to the camp and you decide the coin isn't enough for your downpayment, I won't be able to let you leave alive. Especially not considering where you would go and who you would work for. I'm sure you understand."

 

[Sarah]

Coin, it was a good thing that she had some lying around but he was still more interested in an alternative payment method, one Rasta was no doubt still ignorant of. Regardless he would mention that once they were in the camp, sitting on horseback and in such a serious conversation didn't suit him and he would rather have it done with. "I am sure the coin and whatever else we discuss can secure my services for as long as you need them so we need not worry about me declining your offer, unless of course I am given reason to." His voice was back to its previous manner and he seemed rather joyous again, no longer needing to determine her intentions, by then it had become clear that Rasta was being completely honest and it was a decent change. Not that he trusted people, even if they were honest, it was just a nice chance.

"It's good that you decided to try and work this out though, just a bit of a information for you next time a random person is riding along with you. Giving them the distance to a location while traveling towards it makes it far to easy for them to find where you are going by themselves. If I had left you and joined the aristocratic forces, I hate to say it but your camp would have been the first one we came for." Once again he was honest with her, but it was information she needed to know, perhaps next time she was traveling with some random stranger she would be more careful about giving out information that could put her camp and movement at risk. Not that he should be lecturing anyone about responsibility or being careful but what he said was true, a distance and direction generally made it easy to figure out a destination.

In Merek's mind his admission of such things only strengthened his position as far as letting Rasta know he was serious about going to the camp and joining them. Of course he was not entirely sure yet, his loyalty was only secured after payment, but he was quite certain that would be arranged shortly, besides knowing that information wouldn't help them much if he decided to slip out and seek employment elsewhere, he would be back much to fast for them to pick up and move. As far as Merek was concerned it was all up to Rasta, she would either comply with the things he wanted for his services or not and depending on how things went he would have to react. Of course he was going to be flexible with the other things, he wouldn't want to risk angering the rebel princess, at least that was what he was beginning to think of her. Someone of high birth who chose to fight by the resistance and had money lying around, curious indeed. "Anyways, we can discuss the details of our new arrangement back at camp, yes?"

 

[WriteMood]

She couldn't help but smirk at his words. How dare he chastise her. Did he think she was an ignorant whelp? Or perhaps it was her gender that caused him to think her dull witted. Rasta clenched her fists as she tried to hold her fit of anger at bay. It would do no good to lose her temper on him. She tried desperately to attribute it to her aching body, blood and sweat soaked clothes, and the depression of losing so many good men. Surely these were the reasons her temper threatened to run away with her.

"I assure you, sirrah, that had you declined my offer, no such thing would have happened. Regardless of my gratitude, I wouldn't hesitate to cut you down where you are. We are not living in a time where I can afford emotions to risk the lives of those I protect and serve. And if I were not to return? Well...it wouldn't be the first time the camp has had to change its location."

There. She pursed her lips, grabbed the reins, and thumped back down in her seat. With a quick snap, she urged the horses back into a fast walk. If he wanted to continue the conversation, they could do so at camp.

As promised, less than an hour later they passed through a gap between two trees and into a tiny valley. It was filled with the hustle and bustle of folk as they went about their tasks. Though their passage hadn't been questions, Rasta knew bowmen were watching their every move from stands in the trees. Before they came to a stop, Alric approached the wagon, his lips set in a grim line.

"You return with too few. Where are the others?"

She fought back the sorrow that threatened to overwhelm her. "Dead," she stated loudly so any family of those fallen could hear. "The caravan had two wagons of hidden soldiers. Our numbers were not matched. If it had not been for my escort here, I would be among those dead."

Alric turned to Merek, his broad frame easily towering over Rasta when she stood beside him. "Well met, friend. Welcome to our cause. The return of my cousin means much to me. I'd like to offer you a reward. Name anything, anything at all and if it is within my means, I'll give it."

 

[Sarah]

Merek didn't bother to say anything about Rasta's plan if he had declined her offer. Sure she could have tried to cut him down but he had enough skill to take care of himself, not to mention she had been through a pretty rough battle, he had the better odds. It mattered not though, the fight wasn't going to take place, at least not then, and he wasn't about to run off to inform the aristocrats of their camp location when he had promised to talk it over with Rasta, so there was no need to say a thing. He simply smirked and got comfortable in the saddle, ready to ride with her to the camp she was so ready and willing to protect. He too would be ready to protect it as well assuming everything worked out but not yet. It was interesting to see the woman pleased with herself anyways, he would let her build up some confidence, see how long she could stay so assured of her abilities.

It didn't take them long to get to the camp, the distance Rasta had provided him with quite exact and on horseback it was shorter than his average journey. It was upon arrival that things became interesting, they were being watched, especially him, and while the greeting was prompt it didn't start off friendly. That was to be expected though, Rasta coming back alone could not have been a welcomed sight, the rest of the troops not returning would weight heavily on their loved ones and comrades. Personally Merek had never dealt with such things, death was a normal part of his job, hell of each day, so he had become rather uncaring about the subject. He didn't know the men so once again he said nothing but the looks on the faces around them as Rasta pronounced what happened told him they would be missed.

Once again he cared not, instead his attention was brought to the man speaking, apparently Rasta's cousin. "Ah yes, it was no trouble at all, I merely noticed a beauty facing unfair odds and decided to lend a hand." A smirk crossed his lips when a reward was mentioned but he said nothing for a moment, part of him wanting to jump at the chance but another more professional side telling him to decline and be satisfied with the money he was already going to receive. Eventually he took the best of both options and combined them, the man nodding, "Well to be quite honest I needed to discuss some things with your cousin. Could some food be brought to us as we finish our conversation?" It was a simple request, he wished to be few while he talked, it wasn't such a big deal and it gave a decent first impression with another one of the rebels, something he didn't really care about but it never hurt to have a few men like him, especially high ranking ones. As for the women most of them found him charming so he never worried about that. "Oh and if I could keep this fine steed here, I understand you probably have many horses and will soon be receiving more, but I have become quite fond of the pain in the ass." He hadn't become fond of it but he wanted to make sure it was his, a good horse being rather hard to find and this one being just that, a good horse.

 

[WriteMood]

Rasta's heart jumped into her throat at her cousin's offer. She turned her head slightly to regard Merek as she awaited his decision. Oh, please, oh, please, oh, please... The mantra continued in her head as she clenched her hands. The man had made his interest in bedding her obvious and she feared he would ask for her. It would cause not only an outcry among the rebels that were standing around, but would force her to make an ass out of herself. She would never give that unless it was her decision.

When he spoke, her breath released from her in a startling explosion. Rasta hadn't realized she was evening holding her breath. At Alric's glance she nodded, letting him silently know that she agreed to Merek's terms as long as her cousin did. The two of them had grown up together and were close enough that they knew each other's silent signals.

"Consider the horse yours," Alric proclaimed loudly. "Third unit, do not let the death of our brothers be in vain. Move out and retrieve the wagons that were left behind. Use one of them to bring back our dead so that they may be given a proper burial. Now go!"

Activity blossomed around them as men scrambled to assemble. Rasta stepped down from her wagon and gestured at Merek. "We can meet in a tent over here and discuss our agreement further. Alric, would you see to it that we receive food and drink?"

Without waiting for her cousin's answer or Merek's approval, she strode to the tent indicated. Inside was a pile of furs, a trunk, a desk, and a weapons stand. There was also a blanket strung across one side where she could go to change or use the basin of water within to give herself a cursory bath. They needed to talk, but her armor was becoming so stiff and reeking so greatly that she knew she wouldn't be able to think straight until she managed to pull it off. She stepped behind the curtain and began untying the strings on the side that kept her armor cinched.

"If you will look within the chest, sirrah, you should find a smaller chest within that holds a sum of gold and some precious jewels." She spoke through the curtain as she worked at removing her armor. "This is the coin I offer you, as down payment for your services of course."