Chapter 2 - The Yeti
“You don’t have to wait for a good opportunity,
You make it!”
“Hey, Daemon. Is it just me or are you studying even harder than before lately?”
“You think so?”
And what am I supposed to tell you? That I literally begged Drufo to teach me about hunting, and he demanded that I devote all the rest of my time to studying in return?
“It must be some kind of torture for you.”
“Studying can be fun sometimes.”
Luckily, from the old me I had also inherited a love of studying and learning.
“Did you know that if you mix grated perinthia root with gold powder, boil them and add Malvasia the result is a potion that protects from fire spells.”
I looked like a know-it-all who loved to show off. It was my nature.
“I have to go. The shop is always full of customers at this hour.”
Septimus, whom I loved to see so envious of my relationship with Mary, waited for her to leave the classroom before approaching my desk.
“I will never understand why she likes you so much.”
“Are you jealous?”
“Are you kidding me? She's just a four-eyed nerd.”
Her attempted cover-up made me laugh.
“Anyway, do you know what do they say about Mary? that her father beats her, and spends all the money in their shop on wine and gambling.”
It was said that Doug Wallace was once a good guy, but since his wife died, he had drowned in alcohol, and now scarcely a day went by without him starting fights in Giselle's father's inn or beating Mary.
Unfortunately, like all frontier places, Dundee too was the kind of place where everyone minded their own business, and since Mary was too stubborn or too scared to ask for help, the situation remained hopelessly unchanged.
There was nothing I could do right now. But even that was something I could try to fix if I got strong or important enough.
“I have to go now. I'm late for my afternoon lesson.”
If I was to bring my vision to life, I had to improve where I've always lacked, or where I now realize I've gone wrong.
First, I had to fortify myself, and learn a potentially useful profession, capable of opening the right doors for me if necessary.
Since an orphan would have had no real chance of a career in the legions, and the militia was just a bunch of illiterate rednecks, becoming a hunter was the only good option I had.
At least I was certainly not starting from scratch.
Archery was not much different from firing a cannon or a musket – with some notion of physics, the arrow pointed straight at its target, and a lot of practice, I could develop good aim.
In a few weeks I had learned to carve, string, and wield a bow, make, and set traps, follow tracks, and move through the forest as silent as a wolf. I could distinguish the coveted from poor quality prey and locate the right target within an entire pack at a glance.
I could also be resourceful with time since archery, skinning and carrying prey, trekking in the woods, and climbing trees were all perfect ways to build muscles and improve my already improving agility and physique.
The excuse for the hours away from home was that I was studying and doing homework with my friends, but I was pretty sure that Scalia and Zorech suspected something.
That was the day of my final exam. If I was able to catch four hares or two foxes by sunset, I could henceforth go hunting alone and manage the income from my work myself.
I completed my task by mid-afternoon, but unable to contain my bad habit of always wanting to show off, I had chosen to stick around and find more prey.
Suddenly, one of the audible alarms I had placed around to help me locate prey started jingling, followed soon after by a great racket and unrepeatable phrases.
I went to check out of curiosity, finding myself faced with something between the funny and the grotesque: a lizard in a dark suit was completely wrapped up in the wire of the trap, and the more he tried to get free, the more he remained entangled.
“Luda, you imbecile!” His kobold friend scolded him as he cut the wire. “Do you think it’s okay to make so much noise?”
“It's not my fault, Rust. I'd like to know who enjoys putting strings and bells in the middle of the forest.”
“They're hunters' traps, idiot. There must be one nearby.”
They both looked around, unaware that I was right above their heads.
“But didn't the chief say humans don't come up here?” Luda asked again.
“It must be that goat.” Rust handed the dagger to his buddy. “Find him and shut him up. I'm going to the hideout.”
“The boss wants to get his hands on the hunting business. You sure we can afford to do that?”
“Obviously the old dragon won't cooperate. We would have done it anyway. Besides, this business is a thousand times more profitable. Or would you rather have to explain to the boss that the hideout could be compromised?”
They then took different ways, with the lizard walking off in one direction and the kobold continuing in the other, carrying a heavy bag with him.
As for me, instinct told me to turn my back and go my own way.
But I'm forced to admit that my judgment was starting to suffer from my experiences up to that point as Daemon Haselworth, and fatally driven by the curiosity that only an unconscious and overconfident child could possibly have, I set out on Rust's heels.
I followed his trail into a cave in the heart of the forest, with the entrance well hidden by some branches.
I only had to take a few steps inside to find out that it was the secret warehouse of the pig, a kind of treasure room overflowing with exotic goods of all kinds – from spices to fabrics, to weapons, and all known coins and currencies.
The interior was larger than I had expected, and because of the echo when I heard Rust's voice it seemed so close to my ears that I nearly had a heart attack.
“Didn't you eat this time, too? It will be better for you that next time I return you finish everything, or you will deal with the boss.”
I imprudently followed the sound of the voice into the next room, catching sight of Rust turned away and talking to someone at his feet whom I could not distinguish.
I was so busy observing what was in front of me that I forgot to look over my shoulder; and while I was able to perceive a presence behind me, something hit me and knocked me out.
I don't know how long I passed out. I only know that when I came to my senses, I was tied up on the floor of the same room I had peeked into.
On the other side, there was a girl perhaps my own age, chained to the wall, with snow-white hair, a small round nose, bear-like ears and a thick fur on legs and arms.
In her eyes, large and blue, I could see only fear.
“You are a yeti. What is your name? What happened?”
She didn't answer, just staring at me and trembling.
“We have to get out of here.”
I tried to free myself, but those accursed men had worked very hard to tie those knots, and to make matters worse, a sudden echo of footsteps forced me to step back into the role of the helpless victim.
“I knew it,” Borg said. “I knew you were going to be a real nuisance, kid.”
“What have you done to Drufo?”
“Unlike you, he knows how to make himself invisible. But it can't stay that way forever. My men are scouring the forest, and others are guarding his house. Sooner or later, he'll show up.”
Borg then grabbed me by the chin staring me straight in the face – it was hard to decide between his pig stench or the cologne he used to cover it up which one I found more repulsive.
“Now that I look at you, you're pretty fit. No one would think you grew up among a bunch of filthy monsters.”
“They're infinitely better than you, you filthy pig!”
I immediately regretted that statement. Two fingers were enough for that pig to close my throat, squeezing just enough to make my every breath an agonizing gasp.
“Can you feel it? What you’re experiencing right now? It's called fear. All I need is a flick of my thumb to snap your fragile little neck.”
I had spent my entire previous life trying to mask my weaknesses, and even though I knew deep down that he didn't mean to kill me I can't deny that I was really scared on that occasion.
“Consider it a lesson, a very important one. Always think about who you're talking to before you speak.”
All the while the young yeti on the other side of the room had remained motionless, silent and curled up in an alcove, unable to look away.
“What do we do now, boss?” Rust asked. “Shall we use the brat to force the dragon to cooperate?”
“There are better ways to make an unexpected product pay off. Especially if it's top quality.”
“I am not a product. Nor is she.”
“If a customer requests something, that thing automatically becomes a product to be sold and bought. Whether it's food, weapons, or a tiny yeti from the Khoral Mountains, which incidentally can be worth a fortune to collectors of exotic monsters. Whether it's even a human kid. You have no idea how many Volkova’s heirless noble families are willing to pay outrageous prices for a fit, good-looking child under ten years old.”
At that point the pig stuffed the exhausted cigar into its mouth, chewing it noisily.
“You should thank me. Surely the place you end up in will be infinitely better than this.” Then he turned to his men. “Luda, you stay here and guard the warehouse, and you, Rust, join the other hunters. I want that goat's head on a platter by morning.”
He thought he had tamed me, but he was dead wrong. As soon as they were gone, I got back to work, and although it took me several hours of trying and risking spraining my wrists, I finally managed to loosen the knots and free myself.
I'd be lying if I say I didn't consider for a moment the idea of letting Borg free to do what he wanted with me – as a son of a noble family I would have had a much better chance of completing my mission. The problem is that there were too many variables to consider – from the prestige and possibilities of my potential adoptive family to the time it would take to reach it – and there was no point in relying on my proverbial luck.
“Done.”
I tried to look for the keys to the yeti's collar, but not finding them, I had no choice but to get a chisel and play being a burglar.
The poor thing looked at me as if she thought it impossible that a human could do anything good for her, and she was probably right.
In my old life I had hardly ever done anything that didn't involve personal gain, and I had no intention of failing in this rule of any good ruler.
But the most essential thing for anyone who aspires to climb the ladder of power has always been loyalty – and the loyalty of a yeti, however young, could become an excellent investment for the future.
“Sapi.”
“What?”
“My name. Sapi.”
At least she was starting to trust me, realizing all the risks I was taking to help her.
In the end, it only took a few blows to break the old lock.
“Let's get out of here!”
The problem was that Luda was still keeping watch at the cave, but that lizard was stupid enough to make his rounds every thirty-minutes, so it was easy to sneak past him without him noticing.
Once outside, and still holding Sapi's hand, we ran as fast as possible towards Drufo's cabin, however finding it as expected guarded by Borg's thugs.
“Damn it, we can't even use the tunnels to get to the ghetto.”
We had to find another way.
Even before ruling over half of Europe, I had done everything possible not to rely on others, thinking that I could solve even the most impossible situations by trusting only in myself and my abilities.
But when you find yourself in situations like that, with the body of a child, you come to reconsider the importance of having someone you trust at your side, realizing how stupid it is to let your pride persist in wanting to go it alone.
“There is only one person who can help us.”
All my life I had known nothing but suffering. I had never known my mother – she could have been a slave or the descendant of people who followed the Dark Lord.
Like most slaves, I had been born on a reservation where monsters were selected and mated as breeding animals, and it was only by chance that while still small – at least by my standards – I had been destined for the same ghetto where my father too was imprisoned.
Even if you're a half-blooded dragon who ages ten times slower than a man in the ghettos, you're bound to grow up fast.
“You're just a slave!” the first guard who had punished me had shouted at me. “And you will remain one for life!”
But I was not like the others. I was a fighter.
I no longer remember all the times I was punished, and even if the Slave Stone leaves no physical marks, the pain and wounds in my soul never disappear.
The first time my father caught me trying to learn to use a sword he scolded me harshly. He said that the humans' hatred towards us was not entirely unjustified, given what they had suffered because of us.
But I didn't agree. What was our fault? That we had never even seen the Dark Lord, or for what our ancestors had done five hundred years before?
Every day I went to the sawmill or in the woods to cut trees and in the evening, I came home exhausted, and started over again the next day.
It had been like this for a hundred and sixty years, and deep down I was convincing myself that it would never change.
Then, suddenly, a ray of light entered my life.
Dad and the others had practically mauled me the night they saw me return to the ghetto with Daemon in my arms – a name I would have chosen myself – and it had been hard to convince them to keep him.
I've often wondered why someone like me, who hated humans with all my heart, would go out of her way to save one of them. To put it simply, when I found myself in front of that abandoned wren in the forest, I no longer understood anything – as if I had an invisible voice whispering in my ear.
Obviously, Lori had been the first to support me in convincing everyone to adopt him, for how strongly that cow was burning with repressed maternal instinct, and our fights to win his attention when he was little had almost become a comic show for our companions.
But it hadn't been easy. Not at all.
It was hard enough to fend for ourselves, let alone having to raise a human child while keeping him hidden from the rest of the world.
The idea of creating Mr. Haselworth's alias had come from old Passe, a kobold who always knew one thing or two, while that of obtaining money and provisions had come from the old lizard Bonbi, who was never caught stealing food scraps from miners' kitchens to feed her beloved nephew.
Through it all, my father had always kept an eye on us, despite his skepticism of our decision – and even though he was too proud to admit it, he soon grew fond of Daemon.
Sadly, I have to admit that Daemon didn't do anything at first to prove that he deserved the sacrifices we were making for him.
Perhaps we had spoiled him too much, perhaps it was simply his natural disposition, but for a long time the idea of committing himself and making sense to our efforts hadn’t even crossed his mind, and he spent all his time skipping school, running in the woods, or making trouble in the village with his companions.
Then suddenly, four months earlier, he radically changed, and from one moment to the next we almost seemed to be dealing with another person, even too mature and responsible for a ten-year-old boy.
I was a little sorry that I didn't always have to worry about my little human brother's head-butts, just as I was a little sad that suddenly Daemon had started to prioritize study over training with the sword.
I knew for sure that he was keeping something from me, and that made me pensive and irritable – not the kind of concern I wanted to have for him.
Sometimes I hoped that he would make some trouble again, or do some prank typical of his age, so we could punish him as we had in the past.
Silly me to have had such thoughts!
It was another back-breaking afternoon like any other at the sawmill. The reflected light of a small mirror hit my face from the trees, and by the way it moved I immediately understood that it had to be something serious.
With the usual excuse of going to fill the jars by the stream, I moved in that direction, more than sure that I had to make up for my adorable little brother's first blow-up in a long time. And instead, Daemon showed up in front of me together with little yeti, both covered in dirt, telling me the most absurd and paradoxical of all stories.
“What have you got yourself into, you idiot? And what do you mean Drufo is teaching you to hunt? Just wait for dad to get his hands on you!”
“I'll think about his punishment later. The important thing now is to keep Sapi safe.”
In fact, I had noticed that after the lunch break almost all of Borg's guards had disappeared, forcing those who remained to work twice as hard as before – that pig was so rich and powerful that he could even buy leave from work for anyone he wanted from the guards. Since his arrival, many of us had sold ourselves to him as fixers in exchange for a slightly less miserable life.
The only thing to do was ask for help from the only other person capable of putting together a large enough group with the same ease, but first it was necessary to find a hiding place for those two little pests.
“Do you remember our castle?”
“Of course.”
“Go there, stay hidden and do not say a word, and in the meantime, I will look for a way to warn our father. We will come and get you and take you to the ghetto.”
“Thank you, Scalia. I owe you one."
“Wait to thank me. If I were you, I'd prepare for your punishment."
I returned to my seat, spending the next hour mulling over a solution.
Even though that old fossil Oldrick had been put to watch us that day, I certainly couldn't simply say that I was sick and wanted to go home.
While I was helping Tarto saw a large log, I had the perfect idea, and thanking the gods for being a dragon I quickly put my arm along the path of the blade.
I would like to say that what I did next was all for show. Although my accelerated healing power allowed me to recover from a wound like that, the pain I felt was something beyond imagination, and the screams I let out for attention completely honest.
“Are you crazy? Why did you put your hand out like that?”
“I'll explain later, play along."
Oldrick arrived almost immediately with a couple of other guards.
“What happened?"
“An accident, Captai,." said Tarto, a poor fellow so fond of me that he would do anything I asked him. “She put her hand in the wrong place and...”
They called the surgeon, who apart from applying a bandage could do nothing but recognize the inevitable.
“Because she's a dragon, she doesn't risk her life, and soon the wound will begin to heal. For today, however, she can no longer work.”
“Then there's nothing we can do. Some of you take her to the ghetto.”
“No Captain, there's no need. I can go back by myself.”
“Don't play around. If I find out you've gone elsewhere, you're going to regret it. As for you, get back to work. You'll have to work for her too.”
By the time I was able to get back on my feet and walk towards the ghetto I had already lost so much blood that my head was spinning, and I could hardly walk straight.
Daemon, damn you. I swear I'll make you pay for this.
I hadn't even gotten halfway when suddenly a horde of thugs appeared out of nowhere, surrounding me as I walked through a little-traveled patch of forest.
“Good morning, Miss Scalia,” grunted an unbearable pig voice behind me. “Back early from work?”
“Good morning, Master Zorech. I thought I recognized a familiar smell.”
I knew provoking him was dangerous, especially in my current condition, but my father always said that my tongue was more venomous than a snake's.
“I'm looking for your human mongrel, and I'm sure you know where I can find him.”
“Why?”
“He has taken unlawful possession of my property. A valuable product, commissioned from me directly by an official very close to the royal family of Patria. And now, I'd like to have it back.”
“Were your goods stolen by a child? Congratulations, what a handsome smuggler you are.”
In other times that pig would have accepted the provocation without getting upset, but this time it was clear that he had no desire to joke.
“Sorry for you, but I have no idea where Daemon is.”
“Are you quite sure?”
“Absolutely. And anyway, in your place I wouldn't worry too much about that. There are as many crazy humans who love to collect monsters out there as you want.”
I realized that I had said more than I should before even seeing that insufferable toothless smile appear, and I wanted so much to bite my tongue off.
“Strange. I don't recall ever saying that the said product was a monster.”
He nodded and his men all jumped on me. If I had been at my full strength I would have torn them all to pieces in seconds, but as bloodless as I was I managed to defeat only two of them before all the others managed to pin me to the ground on my stomach.
“Let go of me!”
“I'm sorry it turned out like this, Miss Scalia. I have great respect for you and your father.”
“Go to Hell, you dirty pig!”
The thumb of one of his thugs poked into my wound nearly knocked me unconscious from the pain, but I was more determined than ever not to give in.
“Agreements are sacred in commerce. I can't break my word, or my reputation will suffer greatly. And a merchant's reputation is everything to him. So now you tell me where those two brats are.”
“Do your worst, damn pig. It will take you a long time to make me talk, and by then my father will already have cut your head off.”
“I doubt it. My boys can be very creative when it comes to breaking the resistance of even the most stubborn. But unfortunately, we don't have time to waste on aesthetic niceties.”
A moment later a handkerchief soaked in some strangely scented oil was forcefully pressed against my face, and within seconds I was overcome with tremendous drowsiness, as a voice impossible to ignore boomed directly in my head.
“The truth is, there are far more effective ways to make someone cooperative.”
The castle was nothing more than a stone ruin lost in the heart of the forest, devoured by vines and with a collapsed roof, unobtainable for anyone who did not know where to look.
Scalia had discovered as a child that she could roam freely around the ghetto, and it was in one of her usual places to explore that she had found me as a newborn one evening returning from work.
I felt motivated to transform it into a real fortress, covering doors and windows with stones and rocks and building a ladder made of tendrils to enter or exit by passing over the wall. I also carried supplies there, and would place them hanging from a net two meters above the ground to keep safe from the animals.
During the two hours we spent there, Sapi didn't say a word, just sat in a corner with downcast eyes turning over the biscuits I'd given her to calm her rumbling stomach, while I tried kill time by practicing volleying the falling leaves with a throwing knife that I had found in the cave.
I watched her from a distance, not sure what to do.
I was very much aware that it was no longer possible to go back. Even though I kept telling myself I had saved her just to win her trust so that I could count on her when the time came, the child in me had clearly pursued me to act carelessly, and now I had no idea how to get out of that situation.
If I wanted to complete my task, I could no longer afford such head-butts. But by now the goose was cooked, so the only thing to do was to try to take advantage of the situation.
“Don't worry, we're safe. Apart from me and Scalia, no one else knows about this place.”
The little yeti looked even more confused and scared than when she was chained in that cave, and she looked at me as if she still didn't quite understand if she could trust me.
“Are you… a human?”
“Well, I suppose so,” I replied with false modesty.
“But, your friend… she is one of us?”
“Scalia is more than a friend. She and Zorech are my family. She found me when I was just born, you know? Right here, in front of this house. She took me to Ende, and I grew up there. But please, don't tell anyone. It's a secret.”
“But humans hate us. They destroyed my village. Killed all my friends. My parents. And they took me.”
It was a story I knew well.
Although the Empire had almost completely massacred or subdued most of the monsters immediately after the end of the Holy Wars, there were still communities and small villages that survived in the most unreachable lands of Erthea, and slave hunters were always on the hunt.
“They explained it to us at school. The Holy Wars. The monsters who fought for the Dark Lord. My father says that monsters did terrible things, and that it's only natural that humans are angry today. But I don't think it's fair.”
Sapi couldn't seem to believe her ears. Surely her parents had told her the worst things about humans, so she couldn’t believe that one of them was now worrying so much about her.
“Most of the monsters that live in Ende weren't even born when the war ended. So, is that their fault? So, I promised myself that one day, when I grow up, I'll do something to make this stop."
Some would have found it unethical to use smooth words to trick a frightened child; but for me, it was leading a lost soul with nothing and no one to count on and offering something else to believe in.
On the other hand, who better than someone desperately looking for a friend can prove to be the most reliable of followers if so inspired?
And I had neither the time nor the inclination to get lost in moral dilemmas.
The sound of trampling leaves made us both jump.
“Daemon, it's me.”
“Scalia.”
“Everything’s fine. Now I'm here. But my hand is hurt.”
“No problem, I'm going out now.”
Therefore, after instructing Sapi to wait for me, I went outside.
Scalia was waiting for me not far away, at the foot of a large oak.
“I was starting to worry. What happened to your arm?”
Unfortunately, it was only when I was too much close that I became aware of her expression and lack of light in her eyes – as empty as a doll's, but still able to cry.
“I'm sorry, Daemon."
Borg's minions leapt out like wolves lurking in the trees, and as Rust grabbed Scalia and held her still all the others surrounded me.
The pig appeared last, smug, and smiling like never before.
“Nice chase, brat. But now we have come to a reckoning.”
Stupid! Stupid!
“What have you done to my sister?”
“She was uncooperative, so we gave her a little incentive.”
Interesting. So even in this world there are drugs and serums capable of nullifying reasoning and pushing obedience.
I was almost afraid of myself – even in such a situation, my brain would not stop receiving any potentially useful information.
“You know, I'm pretty angry. You've made me run around this damned forest more than I'm willing to run, and I'm not young enough for that anymore.”
Another of his men had forced his way into the ruins and had laid hands on Sapi, and her cries only made the situation even more tense and unbearable.
I had promised myself just minutes before never to act impulsively again, but I did the only thing that came to mind at the time.
I raised the knife to at Borg, and almost immediately at least five crossbows pointed at me.
“Nobody needs to get hurt, kid."
“I agree. So now let Sapi and my sister go, and that's the end of it."
“What would you like to do? Hit me?”
“If it will be necessary."
“You'd be dead before you could even throw that knife."
“Maybe. Are you willing to take the risk?"
With guys like that, the important thing is to appear determined – if not a bit crazy – but the truth was that we were in a stalemate from which I had no idea how to get out.
But evidently the Goddess of Luck had never ceased to walk beside me.
An arrow appeared from nowhere suddenly and hit Rust’s hand – freeing Scalia, who had meanwhile come to her senses. She freed herself smashing the kobold's lower parts, retrieved his ox and ran towards me.
Drufo had thought that being scolded for training me in secret was surely better than having to account for my death, so as soon as he realized the situation he had immediately returned to the ghetto for help.
And help arrived.
Only when I saw Zorech, Passe, the tortoise Taren, the garuda Eilon, and all the others appear from behind the hill armed with what they had found I realized how much they cared about my safety.
I admit it – it left me speechless.
At the same moment, the gorilla holding Sapi felt a tap on the shoulder.
“Has anyone ever told you that children shouldn't be touched?” Lori said before knocking him down with a single punch.
At the sight of his precious product slipping from his hands, Borg simply lost control.
“Kill them all!”
What erupted might have looked like a battle to some, but to my eyes it was nothing more than a primate brawl.
However, there was potential.
A monster at its worst was worth one and a half times a well-built soldier, and though their bodies bore the marks of a life of deprivation, none of them lacked strength.
Moreover, after five hundred years, many of them still knew how to fight – and with good training and the right discipline, they could turn out to be excellent soldiers.
I had never witnessed a clash between monsters before, so I took a couple of minutes to observe them well and make some mental notes. Therefore, I decided it was best to intervene; after all, all of them were my soon to be army, and there was no point for them to slaughter each other for no reason.
“Stop it now!” I yelled, being immediately obeyed.
Some things never change no matter what world you find yourself in. Simply using the right tone and authority when speaking is enough for even a child to be obeyed by adults.
Besides, I had spent a lifetime honing the art of speaking, pushing others to listen to me and taming consciences with words was now as natural to me as breathing.
It’s important to start with the proper emphasis, and a catchphrase is always the best way to start a conversation.
“Aren't the humans who have been killing and enslaving you for centuries enough? Now you kill each other too?”
I pretended to forget that it was my fault that such carnage had occurred, but then again, knowing how to get the conversation on track is a virtue of a good speaker.
In the meantime, the right idea had come to my mind to get us all out of trouble without having to shed more blood. With a display of confidence, and hoping I hadn't misjudged him, I approached Borg.
“You said that for you Sapi is nothing more than a product to be sold, right? If that's the case, I'll buy her!”
To say that everyone, including Borg, jumped on the spot at hearing those words, and the tone in which I pronounced them, would be an understatement.
“I'm serious. If you’re willing to sell her, then sell her to me.”
“And with what money do you plan to pay for her?” the pig replied, partly ironically, partly intrigued by the turn that whole situation was taking.
“I have some money. Money my dad and my friends saved up for me. I can pay you with those.”
“Daemon, wait. You need that money.”
“If they can avoid this stupid bloodshed, I'm happy to spend it now Scalia.”
Borg took out yet another cigar, twisting it for a long time in his hands, then looked up at Zorech.
“And how much money are we talking about?”
“Boss…” Rust exclaimed, unable to believe that his boss could play all that game.
Zorech grunted and gripped his pickaxe tightly, unable to hold my gaze that craved an answer as much as the pig.
“So far, we have collected approximately five thousand Imperial goldies.”
Not bad at all. Honestly, I would have expected a lot less.
Unfortunately, it was only pocket change for Borg and his usual customers.
“My client made me an offer of twenty-five thousand goldies for that yeti.”
He was lying, and perhaps he suspected I was aware of it. No monster was so precious, not even a yeti. However, that was not the time to play low.
“I’ll give you thirty. What's missing, I'll put in myself. You wanted to get into the hunting business, am I right? Then I'll be your hunter!”
This time, even the pig was speechless.
“Drufo is teaching me to hunt. I promise I'll be as good as him in six months. I'll hunt for you and give you four-fifths of everything I earn, until I pay you back in full."
“Daemon, that's enough! You really don't think you're going to work for this pig!"
"Scalia, stop it!" Zorech scolded her, aware of how unpredictable his daughter could become when it came to protecting me. “Daemon, think about it. You are just a child. I have already explained to you many times that your job is only to study.”
“I'll do that too, Father. You have my word. I will study and go to school, and in the remaining time, I will devote myself to hunting. You won't even have to work so hard for me anymore, because from now on I'll earn the money I'll need to live on. The earnings from Drufo's hunt can be used entirely to help the people of Ende.
Borg had his own ritual when it came to discussing and closing a deal, and the mere fact that he was now putting his cigar in his mouth was enough to astound the servants who knew him best.
“Maybe we can discuss it.”
"Wait, I'm not done. There's one more thing."
"Really? What would that be?”
“You are an honest merchant, right? You always respect your agreements.”
"A merchant's word is sacred. Once I shake hands with a customer, the contract is unbreakable.”
"In that case, I want you to get Sapi safely to Connelly."
The fact that Borg was the first one unable to hide his astonishment proves the reaction this request aroused in all the others, starting with Sapi herself.
"In the Principality, demi human monsters like her can integrate easily, and I'm sure you know how to get her through the access gates and people who can take care of her."
"This will greatly increase your debt, boy, you know that right?"
"It does not matter. I want her to be able to grow up freely. And if I have to work for you longer to do that, I will. But let me be clear, I won't do anything for you other than hunt. Don't hope to use me for smuggling or anything like that."
Borg took a match from his pocket and lit it by rubbing it on the matching bracelet.
"We have a deal," he said showing his gleaming teeth, with a smile gleaming a painless defeat.
I wondered if I had just made a deal with the devil when I shook that hand, but at least I'd done it on my own terms.
I had promised not to praise myself again, as I used to do in my previous life, but I am forced to admit that I had managed to perform an authentic diplomatic masterpiece I was proud of. I had taken a dead-end situation and created the best possible outcome out of it.
In the first place, I had solved the problem of my training once and for all – now that I had a debt to pay Scalia, Zorech could no longer interfere, not wanting to risk making an enemy out of Borg.
Borg himself believed that he controlled me, but he was too self-confident to understand that it was I who was about to use him. Very soon, the doors to the thick and surely rich undergrowth of the lawful and illicit affairs of all West Erthea would open to me, thanks to his acquaintances.
I didn't mind being tied to him for a long time – the more time I had spent working for him, the greater the reputation and the advantages I could have gained among his associates.
But above all, I had made an important investment for the future.
I was more than sure that not everyone would welcome the change that I would eventually bring upon Erthea with open arms.
On the contrary, I knew too well that I would end up spilling a lot of blood and alienating powerful people ready to do anything to protect the rotten and decaying world they lived in, like pigs enjoying the mud while the butcher sharpens his knives.
Sapi was still small, but the conditioning work I had instilled in her was already starting to take root.
When I went to say goodbye the day she left with a caravan of smugglers bound for Connelly, she promised me that one day she would come back to pay off her debt and allow me to make my dreams come true.
She would have made a perfect bodyguard.
Absolutely faithful, and ready to die to protect me from any danger.
I couldn't ask for better.
I knew there were no easy times ahead of me and I would have to fight, but it didn't scare me.
I would have saved Erthea from its fate, no matter the cost.
