10.
Investment in the Future 14: Chapter 10.
Investment in the Future 251 AC.
Tyrosh Irat Rexarion.
“So you say you want to buy my slave?” the owner of the traveling troupe asked.
He looked far from attractive, to say the least, downright disgusting.
A large build, puffy cheeks, and a double chin.
A massive gut hanging over his belt completed the picture.
All of this indicated his lack of restraint when it came to food and was also repulsive.
His facial skin had an unhealthy, weathered tint.
Pimples dotted his face, some of them quite inflamed, marring his already hideous features.
His swollen nose had a reddish tinge, a clear sign the man regularly drowned himself in alcohol.
His mouth, twisted into a vile grin, revealed rotten teeth.
His expensive attire, which he surely used to project status and wealth, looked as unkempt as the owner himself.
Instead of answering his question, I silently tossed a pouch of coins at his feet.
Varys’s owner caught it with interest and weighed it in his hand.
“Not enough,” he said with a disgusting smile.
“Good slaves are expensive these days.” I thoughtfully regarded this man’s face, considering my next move.
I understood that whatever price I named, this bastard would try to raise it.
He reminded me far too much of the brothel owner where I had grown up.
Still silent, I began to walk slowly toward the man, staring into his piggy little eyes.
I kept going until I loomed over the fat man who had delusions of grandeur.
“I don’t think you understand the situation,” I snarled, savoring his suddenly pale expression.
“I’m not here to bargain with you.
But if it’s only about the price…” I whipped out the dagger from my belt and pressed it against his fat, sagging throat.
“How about your life in exchange for the slave?” I continued with a bloodthirsty grin, pressing the blade slightly harder to draw a little blood.
“Does that price suit you now?” His feeble attempts to speak were met with increased pressure from the blade against his neck.
“So, what will your positive answer be?” I asked rhetorically, staring directly into his terror-filled eyes.
The owner of the traveling troupe of actors had no choice but to surrender the boy to save his own life.
I could say the negotiations went more than successfully, so after taking Varys, I headed toward the inn I had left Ross at earlier that long night.
“Are you unhappy?” I asked the boy after about ten minutes of silence.
“M-my lord,” the boy stammered.
“So, happy or not?” I pressed.
“Happy, but…” Varys hesitated, unsure how to continue.
“But you don’t know why I did this?” I asked, helping him express his thoughts, and after his confirming nod, continued.
“Don’t worry about it.
I just felt like it.” My words plunged the boy into even greater shock than he had been in before.
He spent most of the rest of the walk in that state, trying to process what had happened and rebuild his understanding of the world.
As we approached the inn where I had left Ross earlier, I looked at the boy and decided to help him out a little by explaining my motives.
“Don’t get your hopes up,” I said, stopping and looking down at him.
“I saved you simply because I wanted to.
For the same reason, I took you from your master.
But otherwise, I’m not going to coddle you.
Sooner or later, I’ll leave Tyrosh, and you’ll be on your own.
Your life will depend only on you.” “Alone?” Varys asked, surprised, looking into my eyes as if trying to figure out if I was joking.
“But how…
A slave must always follow his master.” Now it was my turn to look at the young interlocutor in surprise.
“Do you like being a slave?” I asked, carefully watching his reaction.
The boy shook his head frantically, but frightened by his own honesty, he froze and looked at me warily.
The sight couldn’t help but amuse me.
“Good,” I said with amusement in my voice, then continued on my way and, already at the tavern door, finished my thought.
“Good, because you’re no longer a slave.” — “Again!” I shouted, watching from the sidelines as the training continued.
A couple of days had passed since Varys became a free man.
During that time, he had practically stuck to me like glue, much to the amusement of my now-expanded squad.
Speaking of which, Rob had managed to find three enthusiastic young men willing to join the company.
So now I had eight men under my command.
To be called a full ten-man squad, I was short just two people.
But I ordered Rob and John to stop searching.
It was better to spend time on training.
What use was a crowd of men if they would fall in the first skirmish?
So at the moment, three experienced fighters were training the newcomers, which looked more like a beating from the outside.
The recruits couldn’t even land a single blow on their “mentors”; they could barely last a minute.
A minute against fighters who weren’t even trying their hardest.
To say this irritated me would be an understatement.
I understood that I shouldn’t expect much from those who had just picked up a sword, but I couldn’t help myself.
I wanted the recruits to at least be able to hold out until help arrived by the time they entered their first real battle.
So I decided to use gravity on them, increasing their load and turning the training into a real ordeal.
Of course, it wouldn’t increase their skill, but having gotten used to the increased load, they would last longer in a real battle.
“But I could be wrong,” I corrected myself mentally.
“Time will tell.” “Amis, keep your sword up, you idiot!” Ross shouted from the sidelines, also watching the training.
The boy with green-dyed hair, like many Tyroshi, barely managed to comply.
He was clearly struggling to hold the training sword in the correct position.
The other two recruits didn’t look much better.
It seemed like any moment they would collapse from exhaustion.
Which they did, less than a minute later.
“Again!” I ordered, causing the trio to groan in despair.
“I think you’re pushing them too hard, commander,” Ross said, coming closer.
“Let them rest properly.
They’re already falling off their feet.
What’s the point of training if they can’t even lift their weapons properly?” I looked at the clearing where the recruits had barely gotten up and were now struggling to stay on their trembling legs.
“And our ‘old-timers’ could use a break too,” Ross continued, gesturing toward the fighters trying to look fresh.
“Not all of us are as tireless as you.” Looking at John, I noticed him wincing and subtly holding his side where he’d been wounded in the last battle.
As far as I knew, it had healed perfectly, but it seemed prolonged exertion still caused him discomfort.
Closing my eyes, I sighed heavily.
“Maybe you’re right,” I reluctantly agreed with the more experienced mercenary, then gave the order.
“Stop!
Everyone rest.
We’ll continue later.” The newcomers barely heard the word “rest” before collapsing to the ground in relief.
I, meanwhile, began to gradually reduce the gravitational load I had been maintaining on them.
“I hope we still have time,” I said to the big man.
“Otherwise, with those skills, they’re at risk of dying in the first battle.” “You’re too hard on them,” he replied, looking toward the other side of the clearing.
“Not everyone can be as talented as you.
And if they die…
well, we’ll recruit more.” Chuckling, I looked in the same direction as Ross.
Off to the side, near a pile of stones, Magok sat, demonstrating with gestures how to handle a dagger to Varys.
In the child’s hands, the weapon looked like a full-fledged sword, which made the task much harder.
And Varys wasn’t born to be a warrior, so this craft came to him with great difficulty.
But the boy deserved credit; he didn’t complain.
Once he realized that I truly wasn’t going to coddle him and was only keeping him around out of the goodness of my heart, he began grasping at any opportunity that might allow him to survive.
For the same reason, I wasn’t going to offer him obvious help.
Sooner or later, he would be alone and had to be ready for the fact that help wouldn’t come from anywhere.
Even though I wanted to endear myself to him as much as possible, I understood that without harsh living conditions, he wouldn’t become the person I needed.
I could only hope that when that moment came, he would understand my motives.
“And still, I don’t understand why you need that kid, Irat,” Ross said thoughtfully.
“Don’t tell me you just wanted to help.
You don’t strike me as some foolish knight who wanted to save a child from slavery.” “And who made you so smart?” I asked softly, making my companion laugh.
“He’s talented.” At that moment, a pitiful cry was heard.
Turning toward the sound, I saw Varys cradling his hand, from which blood was dripping, while Magok quickly bandaged the small wound with a scrap of cloth.
It seemed the boy had cut himself while playing with the dagger.
“Doesn’t look like it,” Ross said with a sarcastic chuckle.
“His talents lie in a different area,” I replied, turning my attention to the resting mercenaries.
“John!
Take the boy to Irving to wash the wound.” The mercenary didn’t reply, only nodded and headed toward the exit of the clearing, holding his side and beckoning Varys to follow.
“And show yourself too,” I ordered.
The mercenary grimaced with annoyance but nodded again, indicating he would comply.
Although the wound had healed completely, recovery wasn’t finished.
By giving that order, I hoped the former maester could suggest how to speed up the process.
“And what are his talents?” the big man decided to continue the conversation.
“Time will tell,” I evaded.
“Consider it an investment in the future.” Putting away thoughts of the future, I turned my attention to the newcomers.
By then, they no longer looked so exhausted.
“Break’s over!
Continue!” I ordered, taking some sadistic pleasure in watching the despair in the newcomers’ eyes.
“Magok, replace John!” The Summer Islander nodded and walked toward the trainees, picking up a training sword along the way.
Although he wasn’t as good with the sword as with the bow and was somewhat inferior to John, he was more than enough for training boys who had only recently picked up a weapon.
“You know someone’s been asking about you in the city?” Ross suddenly asked, not taking his eyes off the trainees.
“Specifically about me?” I asked in return, not at all surprised by such an outcome.
“Specifically,” Ross replied, turning his head and looking me up and down.
“I don’t think there’s anyone else in the city with such strongly pronounced Valyrian features.” I could only smile quietly and mentally agree with his point.
The only one who could boast similar features was Blackfyre, but for obvious reasons, he had a much more distinguishing characteristic.
“And how did you find out?” I asked.
“You won’t believe it, but some smart guy decided to ask me if I knew you,” the mercenary chuckled.
“He claimed you’d stolen something from some Lord Lupos.
He also mentioned that this same lord was offering five Braavosi coins to anyone who found you and brought you to him.” “Interesting,” I said thoughtfully.
“Those owners of traveling acting troupes are getting wealthy these days.
Five whole coins.” Of course, I had suspected that threatening someone with money could lead to certain consequences.
Especially considering the vengeful nature of people.
But I certainly didn’t expect that disgusting fat man to dare put a bounty on my head.
A bounty on a member of the Golden Company in a city completely controlled by said company.
I had no words for such an act.
“And what do you think about it?” I asked the subordinate, briefly distracted from my own thoughts.
“What do I think?” Ross repeated in surprise.
“I think this Lupos is either very stupid or very arrogant.” “Or both,” I chuckled.
Indeed, the former owner of Varys’s actions were both arrogant and foolish.
But his motives concerned me little.
What worried me more were the possible consequences of such attention.
After thinking it over, I concluded that the consequences for me personally would be minimal, provided the command took an interest in what was happening.
Otherwise, I had nothing to fear.
It’s not like I had to worry about vagrants enticed by five Braavosi coins.
But what really concerned me was the threat to my investment in the future, Varys.
As long as the boy was constantly hanging around one of us, he was safe.
But once we left the city, his former master would want his slave back.
That could send history full circle and make all my efforts wasted.
Along with my plan to endear myself to Varys.
“How do you feel about putting down an overly arrogant slave owner?” I asked, baring my teeth with a grin.
Ross’s face spread into a smile that was only slightly less predatory than mine, and his eyes sparkled with excitement.
I didn’t even need to ask.
Mercenaries weren’t much different from bandits.
They were cutthroats who never passed up a chance to profit.
“And I was just saying how wealthy slave owners have become these days,” I said rhetorically, making my companion laugh.