Chapter 111: Viscount Barten’s Wager part 2
The black-clad men seemed a touch surprised. They traded looks; at the Chief’s nod, they hauled Barten up and dumped him onto a chair. He was still bound within an inch of his life, but at least his face wasn’t on the floor. Considerably more comfortable.
「Won’t you cooperate? If you’ll join us, we’ll speak for you with our lord. You won’t come to harm. And you’ll get the opportunity to break the Prime Minister nose.」
A tempting offer, as it happened. Barten savored it—and set it aside. His answer was already fixed.
「I’m a soldier. However foul the Prime Minister is, I won’t side with bandits. I won’t leak state secrets. What I can talk about is the Prime Minister’s character—for that low creature I can speak all night.」
「I see.」
The Chief smiled faintly.
「A moment ago you said, ‘Things were better under Lord Leister.’ Didn’t you?」
「You heard that mutter!?」
He had said it aloud. But to have been shadowed that long without sensing a tail—he had thought he’d only blundered because they lay in wait inside the house. Apparently not.
「So you even heard my soliloquy. No wonder you bagged me.」
「Calm down.」
The Chief’s tone soothed.
「We too owe a great debt to the former Prime Minister—Lord Leister. Werner-sama. That’s another reason we can’t forgive Burke. Burke is the one who had Werner-sama confined.」
「What do you mean? How does the Prime Minister tie into Lord Leister’s disappearance? Those two were allies.」
「They were. But Burke betrayed Werner-sama and secretly confined him in the royal castle.」
「What? Do you have proof?」
Barten had passed through the castle and the Prime Minister’s Office often. He had seen Lord Leister and Marquis Burke conversing amicably many times. He couldn’t swallow the claim on the say-so of kidnappers.
And yet… thinking back, Burke’s personality had warped drastically once he assumed the office. Say he had been wearing a mask before—Barten could not deny it.
「Rest easy. Our lord rescued Werner-sama from the castle. He lives—and he’s a witness. Word is, he now fights alongside us to bring down Burke.」
「Is that so…」
His feelings tangled. He raged at being kept ignorant of Lord Leister’s plight—and at himself for becoming Burke’s dog. Yet what could a man outside that circle do?
「If Lord Leister lives, I’d like to talk with him. Then I might finally see how the glorious Belta Kingdom slid into this state.」
「You know as well as I do: Burke is unfit for the office. He’s a small-minded crook.」
「On that we agree.」
Barten could speak ill of Burke till dawn.
「Have you heard that the Cecilio Kingdom eyes this Belta Kingdom like a hawk?」
「Of course.」
Within the army, Crown Prince Rouge’s ambitions were common knowledge. Many soldiers were alarmed. Barten believed coin delivered to the Prime Minister’s Office ought to strengthen national defense.
「Working in the shadows, we can’t help but notice the Cecilio threat. It gnaws at you. What becomes of our homes? Our lives?」
Barten fell silent. Soldiers had to answer threats like that. The army had many fine men, but not all of them worked with joy. The mood in the realm had palpably soured.
「But tell me—can either of us do anything about the Prime Minister or Cecilio? You and I are pieces on the board.」
Pieces. A favorite word of Burke’s.
「Our lord is a true hero. You can’t fathom his reach.」
「You said your lord and Lord Leister fight together. Tell me more.」
「Burke found our lord’s exploits intolerable and moved to poison him. Poison is Burke’s favorite trick.」
「Marquis Burke—poison. I can think of cases… but it’s hard to accept.」
「Believe it or not, we were deep in it. We know Burke’s bag of tricks. But the poison failed. Then we—Burke’s hands at the time—were ordered to finish the job by assassination. And we were soundly overturned.」
「So you defected.」
「We did. We begged for our lives. If it had been for duty, one thing—but we weren’t dying for Burke. Besides, Burke betrayed us first. He’d been shaving our pay, leaving us a pittance for life-and-death work. We stayed out of pride—duty passed down through generations. Burke smashed that pride. We were laying plans to flee to another land.」
Barten could relate. Burke crushed professional pride—and was filthy with money besides.
「He pared down my men too. Any pretext to cut. The man is a miser.」
「We know. No one wants to work under a man like that. Die and you won’t be honored. We poured ourselves out ‘for the realm, for our clan’—but it was just for his private greed.」
「That, I understand. The man is selfish to his core.」
In his youth Barten had simply thrown himself into work. Age had taught him: under a foul superior, your effort was just grist. He could stomach meager means and unchanged duties. But to be cursed by an ignorant superior while your budget was slashed, and still make it work—that ate a man to the bone.
「Once free of his hand, I’m certain. That man is hopeless. He can’t hold a candle to our lord.」
「Your lord is that great a man?」
「Poison couldn’t kill him. He spirited Lord Werner out of a royal prison without tipping Burke off. He turned our blades back on us—and nearly wiped out the men of our line. That is our lord. In a class of his own.」
「A pity. If he’s that much a hero, I’d have liked to meet him. But that only means Burke will try to crush him next.」
「He will. That’s the problem our lord faces now. But Burke won’t necessarily win. I’d say he can’t.」
「Explain. You’ve said this much—finish it. I’m a dead man walking, and you know it best. I won’t be telling anyone.」
「If I were proper, I’d trade this for the Alchemin’s location. But we share a common foe in Burke. I’ll tell you.」
「Please.」
「Burke has already loosed troops from his lands to strike our lord. But we believe our lord will throw them back without trouble.」
「Already that far? That’s civil war.」
Burke’s household troops were limited. But nobles in league with him were many. If he mustered them, he’d field one of the realm’s largest hosts.
「Then your lord is finished. How does he beat Burke’s faction in a war?」
「I don’t know the how. I only know our lord’s victory won’t waver.」
「I find that hard to swallow. Hatred of Burke has blinded you.」
「We can’t lay out our lord’s secrets. But—shall we make a wager? If what I’ve said proves true?」
「If it’s true…」
Barten weighed it. If true, how his heart would leap.
「If it’s true, then my heart does leap. To depart my tedious days and stand inside a hero’s legend.」
「Exactly. We feel we’re about to witness a legend’s birth. That’s why we want the Guinea Alchemin—as a worthy tribute to our lord.」
Indeed, the Artifact was wasted in Burke’s hands. It deserved a hero.
「Name the wager.」
「If our lord shatters Burke’s host, you help us acquire the Guinea Alchemin.」
「And if I win?」
「Unthinkable—but a wager needs terms. You keep your life.」
「My life alone is a poor pot.」
「Hmm.」
The Chief considered.
「How long to the mine?」
「I won’t give up state secrets.」
「You’re inclined to wager. I’m proposing the deadline: until you reach the mine. Indulge me.」
「I’m granted two months’ leave to return from the capital to the mine. If the road’s clear, it’s ten days by horse one way—I depart fourteen days early to allow slack. I was going to leave tomorrow.」
「Two weeks from now, then. If it’s done in that window, it counts. Burke’s faction has dispatched troops. If our lord breaks them, we win; if not, you win. If there’s no decision, the bet carries forward.」
「And my winnings?」
「Very well. If you win, we abandon the Alchemin and never touch it again. I’ll add my head as well.」
「Chief!」
His men tried to stop him, but the Chief didn’t flinch.
「Our lord will win. If my read is wrong, we need insurance so Burke doesn’t erase our line. The ringleader’s head is the only reasonable price.」
Viscount Barten felt a grin tugging.
「Good. I’ll take that bet. Let’s share a drink on it. Untie me.」
「We’ll pass on the drink—for now. We’ll share one when the wager ends.」
「Heh. Fair enough.」
「We’re done here. Don’t forget our terms. We’re always watching. Hiding the mine is useless. Keep the bet, and either you help—or we walk away.」
「Oh, I’ll keep it. Rest easy.」
A cloth clamped over his mouth from behind, and Viscount Barten’s thoughts slipped away. When he woke, he was in his own sitting room. Aside from the headache, nothing was wrong. For a moment he wondered if it had been a dream.
But the unfamiliar knife, stabbed upright into his table, said otherwise.
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