Eobum stood a few yards beyond the ring of tents that formed his personal camp, speaking to two men that were somewhere near his own age. One was bald save a natural ring of brown hair above his ears. The other was dark blond of both hair and beard and was perhaps the very definition of Kovalunth citizenry. If one were to paint the every-man of Kovalun, this man would come to life on the canvas tall but not giant, well-muscled but not large, sleek but not underfed.
“I’m Rákos,” said the bald man. “Andrej ess me boy.”
Eobum nodded, looking a question to the other man.
“Liška,” said he. “Vlk ess mine.”
“Liška—you work the stables, yes? I’ve seen you there trying to do something with the no-necks new recruits ride in on, haven’t I?”
Liška grunted at this, nodding a single time. Rather than pleased at being recognized, he seemed altogether annoyed by it.
“You vanted to see us?”
Eobum chose to say his piece and let these men get on with their respective days. It was clear that Liška, at least, had better things to do this morning.
“Your boys did a service for one of my folk. They had no reason to, no debt or call, nor even someone to ask it of them. They did it anyway.”
The bald man’s smile was plain and honest. He’d heard some of this story from his son, Eobum had no doubt, and he was altogether pleased at what he’d heard. That much seemed clear.
“I’ve heard,” said the every-man. “My vife ess none too heppy.”
Eobum nodded his understanding.
“For a boy to stand against grown men and risk more than their bones? That’s not a thing to cause a mother joy. Still, I owe them and their parents for teaching them to stand up like that.”
“Vas foolish. My vife beat him ’til he couldn’t sit easy, then sent him to bed vithout supper for hess foolishness.” Liška delivered this grim report in the same gruff tones he’d used throughout. “Vlk von’t be so dim again. Not soon.”
Eobum fought back an urge to speak his mind. This Liška might be exaggerating, might be overselling the beating Vlk had gotten. He also might be telling the literal truth. Eobum had no authority to do much about it. A man’s child was just that—that man’s child. Still, the idea of punishing the boy without supper for defending a smaller boy from the Bluemark’s former folk… it was enough to summon the beginnings of true anger in him.
“How can I thank you for the good your son did, Liška?”
Liška shook his head.
“I owe a debt and mean to see it paid,” Eobum said. He’d decided to press the man in an effort to drive the point home, and of course, because he did indeed feel indebted.
“I vant nothing from you, Eodenth.”
Eobum blinked, nodded, and allowed his voice to become flat and detached.
“I can ask Vlk when next I see him if you’d prefer.”
“You von’t ask my boy any such thing.”
“Have I … done something to you that I’m not recalling, Liška?”
Liška shook his head. “Stay clear uff my Vlk, Eodenth. I vant no trouble vith you.” He paused. “If you vant to pay a debt you feel you owe me, then stay avay from my boy.” With that, he turned and walked off, back straight, eyes forward.
Eobum clenched his right fist—the one farthest from his other guest. That worthy had thus far remained silent. He bowed his head, as well.
He heard Liška some yards off.
“My lady.”
Looking up, he saw Kastan nod to the man, who was bowing formally, before she continued on toward Eobum and his remaining guest, Rákos.
At Kastan’s approach, Rákos ran a hand through his beard, looking nervous.
“Eobum,” said she.
“Lady Kastan. This is Rákos—father of Andrej, the taller boy who helped Maksu yesterday.”
Kastan’s face lit up as she regarded the man.
“Your son showed the very bent of honor … Rákos, was it?”
“Yes, Lady. Thank you!”
Eobum turned to make of the three a triangle, so he could face them both. “To Rákos, then.” He again made his offer.
“Your son had even less a reason to stand yesterday. He wasn’t someone my Lakkrid knew, and certainly Maksu didn’t know him.”
“My Andrej ess a good boy, as you say. I’m very proud of him.” He rolled his R on “proud.”
“I owe him a service, and you for teaching him to stand as a man… to be true even in the face of danger.”
Rákos grinned, blushing and nearly bouncing with excitement. Rather than making him appear childish, the action made him somehow endearing.
Eobum grinned. He couldn’t help it. He liked Rákos. It wasn’t only because of the comparison to Vlk’s father, though such a chilly fellow would make most men likable by contrast. No, Rákos had the look of a good man not long out of hard times: clever, determined, and still able to find something to smile about.
“Tell me, Rákos, what service—what favor can I do for you?”
“I’m a hunter, Commander. I vant to be more. I vant to join vith you and your men—my boy and I both.”
Eobum blinked, looking at Kastan in frank surprise.
“Eobum?” Kastan lifted her brows as she spoke. “Ed wrinsh…” (I’ll take him…)
Eobum nodded slowly, thinking about this. A hunter never wanted for meat but had to barter for all else. They earned protection, but no wage to speak of. In Kastan’s employ, he and his boy would eat without having to hunt, as she and her retainers were Edmund’s guests. This meant that anything he hunted would be his to sell back to the encampment or its denizens. That’d change once Eobum returned to claim the pair… if they still wished to join the unit by then.
“Rákos, I cannot take you on just now.”
Rákos dropped his head rather comically.
“Oh,” said he.
Eobum grinned.
“I leave come morning to do His Excellency’s bidding. I can, however, take you and your boy on upon our return. In the meantime, the Lady Kastan has room for you both in her retinue, if that will serve.”
Rákos’s eyes grew wide, his face nearly erupting into a delighted grin.
“Truly? My lady, truly?”
She smiled, nodding.
“Pravdiva jako zítřek,” said she. This was a commoner’s expression—true as tomorrow.
He jumped and pumped both fists in a show of obvious joy. As he landed, he blushed once more and dropped to a knee between the pair.
“My lady, Commander, I and my boy vill do all ve can to serve you vell. I cannot,” he shook his head, “cannot thank you enough for vat you’ve done for my Andrej and I.”
Eobum took this for as long as he thought he could stand, then reached a hand down to help the man to his feet.
“That will be the first and last time you ever kneel to me, Rákos—you or your Andrej. I’m no lord, no noble, no knight.”
Rákos went snow white, jaw hanging limply open, fear etched on his kindly face.
“Peace, Rákos. You were right to kneel before the Lady Kastan.”
“Just not to you?”
Eobum nodded.
“Very vell, Commander. They’ll call you to the line soon enough, I expect.”
Kastan exchanged a knowing look with Eobum. He knew she thought the same. Blessedly, she also knew his mind on the matter and kept prudently silent.
“Come, Rákos. I shall show you where you and your son will be sleeping.”
Rákos beamed, nodded his thanks, and turned to bow his head toward Eobum.
“Commander,” said he, and then turned to leave.
“I leave at dawn, Kastan.”
“I’ll be there to see you off. Lakkrid would never forgive me otherwise.” She headed out with her new, albeit temporary, retainer.