Viscount’s Rise

Chapter 3: Chapter 3: An Unusual Request


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Braydon found that he could not force himself to sleep any longer, despite his hatred of mornings. It felt like it was the world’s way of laughing at him for thinking he could sleep with all the worries he held and the matters he had to attend to. As he realised he would not be going back to sleep, he decided he should be productive, calling for Steven. He would not trust the servants to dress him quite yet, and he might as well use the only person in the castle who had no specific duty, conveniently forgetting that Steven's specific duty was being his attendant.

The first thing he decided to do was see what sort of shape his garrison was in, every man was precious and he couldn't afford for them to be so weak that they cannot even defend the castle. As Braydon walked into the bailey he noticed Corban training the garrison sans 4 men, he presumed they were on lookout at either entrance to the castle. He was glad that half of the ‘walls’ of his castle were the sides of mountains, making for easier defence. The problem being that this was the only passage between his land and the rest of the kingdom. It would be fine if the neighbouring country was friendly, but it just so happened that his neighbour was Shuluk. The Grand Duke had long imposed an embargo on the Kingdom of Fiveria; making the land useless for trade, but a very valuable military position that both countries wanted. And he was stuck in the middle, a conflict that had already cost his father his life. Braydon was not fond of the idea of walking in his father’s footsteps when the man was alive, most certainly not now.

“Sire.” Rhydian saluted, apparently having been looking at how capable the men were, causing a chorus of men to salute behind him.

“Back to what you were doing men.” With Braydon’s command Corban continued drilling the garrison. Braydon walked up to Rhydian and stood alongside him, observing the drilling practise.

“What do you think?” Braydon queried. Rhydian had been his mentor when growing up, and in his words Braydon was ‘just passable’ with a sword and ‘half decent’ on a horse, high praise from a man who barely took interest in anything that didn’t have to do with his duties and combat.

“They have barely passable discipline, and the skills to match, they’ll need some serious training if they are to be an effective garrison and make up for the utter shambles that the new recruits next month will be.” Braydon was glad that he didn’t just inherit a group of drunkards, but had a headache thinking of going a month garrisoning an entire castle with 27 men, not including himself, his knights and Corban. That was barely over 30 men, few of which have even been on a battlefield.

“Have you tested Braun?” Braydon asked, nodding his head in Corban’s direction.

“He’s a capable drill sergeant, more capable than the discipline of his men suggests, I do not think the late head of the garrison was much good at his job.” ‘Harsh.’ Though Braydon wasn’t in a position to be commenting on his mentor’s opinions, he hadn’t beaten him, not even once. Whilst they were talking they noticed a guard coming from the western gate.

“Sire.”

“Report.”

“There is a merchant at the gate requesting entry.”

“Why did you not collect tolls and let him through?”

“He requested a meeting with you, Sire.” At this, Braydon looked at Rhydian.

“Now why would he want to do that? Let him in and bring him to my study.”

“Sire.” As the guard headed back to the gate, Braydon started heading back to the study. He stopped, thought about something then turned back to Rhydian.

“You come along too, and bring Chamberlain Stanton too.”

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“As you wish, Sire.”

Braydon sat at his desk, Rhydian and Colin stood to his right, Steven to his left and George stood by the door. Sat in a chair, across the desk from him was the merchant who had wanted a meeting and the leader of the caravan guards stood behind him. 

“Thank you for receiving me, my lord.” Braydon smiled, turned to Rhydian to catch his eye and upon seeing the slight smirk turned back to look at the merchant.

“I’m glad to see you are in one piece. The nervous wreck you were when we passed you on the road made me think that the trees were spying on you and that every man on the road was after your cargo.” The merchant’s face immediately stiffened, much to Braydon’s satisfaction. And, by the small sigh from the mercenary guard behind the man, it appeared his nerves had been a long lasting thing.

“Forgive me for not recognising you, My Lord.” The merchant calmed his nerves down as he started to reply more cautiously to Braydon, who noticed the mercenary behind the man roll his eyes at his employer’s attitude.

“No need for the worry, I still do not know what you have come to speak of, nor your name.” Braydon felt the need to prod the merchant, lest the bag of nerves forget his reason for being there. Which, apparently, only just dawned upon the man, whose eyes widened.

“I must apologise, I almost skipped over the very reason why I came to see you. My name is Faisal Burton, and I would like to request something of you.” That the man was here with a request was not surprising, he was way too nervous to be here to propose a business deal, not to mention about a month too early for harvest to have been collected.

“And what might that be Master Burton, to the best of my knowledge you should not even know that I would be here, and if you were looking for my father I regret to inform you that he has already died.” 

“No, no, My Lord, I came here to speak to you the new Viscount of Cliforge, Braydon Fiton, to make a request.” This made Braydon raise an eyebrow, they had only just received news of his father’s death not 5 days ago and had rushed here as soon as preparations were made. And by the speed this merchant was travelling he had been on the road for much longer and from further away than Braydon had been.

“Well considering you hired some rather competent mercenaries as the guards for such a small cargo, I presume you want me to look after something valuable.” This drew a dry laugh from both the merchant and mercenary, Braydon mused that even those two could be in sync at times.

“Not so much a valuable item as a valuable person.” Now this was truly surprising, enough to cause both Colin to cough in surprise and one of Rhydian’s rare expressions of surprise to cover his face.

“Are you asking me to take a hostage, for a person I do not know and make an enemy of another?” There would need to be a seriously good reward to justify doing this, one Braydon thought the merchant could not guarantee.

“Not a hostage, heavens no, I’m requesting on part of my liege, for you to protect them.” ‘Is there much of a difference?’ Braydon thought; it would still mean making an unknown enemy for an unknown friend.

“Who are you requesting I protect and why might I want to take you up on this request? If you did not notice when coming into my castle, I am not exactly blessed with many men with which to protect your precious liege.” This drew a snort from Rhydian, Braydon knew he was laughing at his expense, even if the man was behind him and showed no expression.

“Well, my liege is..."

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