The Silver Company moved steadily along the dirt road as the last traces of the battle faded behind them. The stench of blood still clung to the air, but victory had been theirs. Dikun Silver rode at the head, his gaze sharp and watchful. Though the bandits had been defeated, he knew the roads were never truly safe.
The merchant, Master Gullain, rode nervously atop his mule. The rotund man had barely spoken since the ambush. Now, however, his cautious gaze shifted towards Dikun, curiosity creeping into his expression.
"You're not like other mercenaries," Gullain said finally, his voice wary.
Dikun didn't look at him. "No, we're not."
The merchant pressed on. "Most would have fled at the sight of a larger force. But you and your… Company held firm."
"We don't run," Dikun said simply.
Gullain studied him for a moment before chuckling dryly. "Perhaps I chose well after all."
---
The Weight of Reputation
By the time the caravan reached a clearing, the sun had begun its descent. The wagons slowed to a halt, and the oxen snorted in relief.
"We'll rest here," Dikun called out, dismounting. "Saria, Lorin — check the perimeter. Rudric, guard the wagons."
The Company moved swiftly, each member accustomed to the rhythm of their duties. As the fire crackled to life, the tension eased.
Bran took a seat by the flames, his bow resting nearby. "We made good on the contract. Word will spread."
"Aye," Rudric grunted, sharpening his axe. "Bandits talk. They'll know the Silver Company isn't to be trifled with."
"But so will the lords," Elira added. "Not all who hear of us will see us as an asset. Some will see us as a threat."
Dikun met her gaze. "Then we make sure they fear us for the right reasons."
There was a truth in her words. The more they proved themselves, the greater the attention they would draw. And with that attention came danger — not just from bandits, but from nobles who might see a rising company of swords as a challenge.
But that was a concern for another day.
---
A Merchant's Offer
As the evening wore on, Master Gullain approached the fire, wringing his hands. The merchant's usual nervous demeanor had shifted, and now a glint of interest sparkled in his eyes.
"You know," Gullain began, "there are those who would pay handsomely for a company like yours. Protection, escorts, even… personal disputes."
Dikun frowned. "We're not common thugs for hire."
"Of course not!" Gullain quickly assured. "But coin is coin, Captain Silver. Nobles bicker, merchants feud — and it is men like you who settle those matters."
"We choose our contracts," Dikun said firmly. "Not the other way around."
The merchant nodded, though the sly smile on his face remained. "Then perhaps I should introduce you to the right people. The lords of Rattay are always in need of capable hands."
Dikun's jaw tightened. He could see the merchant's intentions — to gain favor by bringing the Silver Company to the attention of nobles. Yet despite his unease, the opportunity was undeniable.
"Perhaps," Dikun allowed. "But we'll see what Rattay has in store first."
Gullain's grin widened. "Wise choice, Captain Silver. Very wise."
---
The Road to Rattay
The next morning, the caravan resumed its journey. The fields of golden wheat soon gave way to cobbled roads, and the imposing walls of Rattay came into view. Towering stone ramparts loomed high, banners fluttering proudly from the watchtowers. Unlike the humble town of Sasau, Rattay exuded the presence of noble power.
Guards clad in polished steel stood vigilant at the gates, their halberds gleaming in the sunlight. The sight of the merchant's caravan approaching — with the Silver Company flanking it — drew whispers from the townsfolk.
"Look at them," one murmured.
"Mercenaries," another sneered. "More killers for hire."
But Dikun ignored the chatter. Let them talk.
As they passed through the gates, Master Gullain raised his hands triumphantly. "Safe and sound, thanks to these fine warriors!"
The guards offered nods of approval, though their eyes lingered warily on Dikun's company.
"You'll find the lord's keep further up the road," one guard muttered. "But mind yourselves. Rattay has little patience for sellswords who stir trouble."
"Trouble finds those who seek it," Dikun replied evenly.
The guard grunted in response, and the caravan moved on.
---
A Noble's Summons
After the wagons were unloaded, Dikun gathered his company in the bustling square. Stone buildings rose around them, shops and stalls teeming with traders and craftsmen. The scent of fresh bread mingled with the acrid smoke of blacksmith forges.
"We'll remain here for now," Dikun announced. "Find supplies, sharpen your weapons, and rest. But stay alert."
Lorin, though still weary, stood straighter now. "What about you, Captain?"
"I'll see what the nobles want with us," Dikun replied. "If there's another contract, we'll take it. But if not…"
"We move on," Elira finished.
Dikun nodded. "The Silver Company will always move forward."
As the company dispersed, a figure in dark blue livery approached — a man with a thin mustache and a narrow face. A servant, undoubtedly.
"The Lord of Rattay has heard of your arrival," the man announced, his voice tinged with disdain. "You are summoned to his hall."
Dikun's brow furrowed. Word truly had spread faster than he'd thought.
"Lead the way."
The servant sneered, turning sharply. "Mind your tongue in the lord's presence, mercenary. Rattay is no place for ill-mannered swords."
Dikun said nothing, but a spark of determination flickered within him.
This was his first step into the world of nobles and politics. He would face it head-on.
And the name of the Silver Company would not be forgotten.