Sitting inside of the guard barrack, Welt studied the guilty face of his betrayer, Gahan.
Gahan sat with his wrists bound, glancing at Welt every few seconds while darting his eyes around restlessly.
Guilty, for sure.
Gahan leaned over to Welt, with his bound hands outstretched to support his balance, and whispered.
"Do you have any alcohol?"
Shameless!
Welt slammed his foot into the shin of the drunk, hard enough to make him yell out in pain, and for the two of them to be moved into different rooms by the guards.
Welt remained wordless while in the barrack, as the guards said they were busy processing something before handling the two of them.
Why are we even a pair?
Had Gahan divulged everything to the guards? About his secret or being a Champion? About the bandits that he'd killed?
Wait... would that even be so bad?
Gahan seemed to suspect the Paladins of wanting to detain people like Welt, or execute them, but it wasn't like he'd done anything against the laws of the Harvestlands.
In fact, his track record was nothing short of stellar. Being a well-known monster hunter in the area with his father gave Welt a lot of credibility. And, once he identified himself, he'd be hard to not trust.
Even if Gahan told the guards about his Annointment he'd probably be safe. Traditionally, Champions were heroes welcomed with open arms, albeit with a lot of trouble from embarking on quests to save the world. Things Welt, sadly, did not have time for.
But, would it be so bad to be known like that? Perhaps the Paladins could help him locate his father - the man was unmistakable, and from his memories of the past, quite renowned as an actual knight at one time. Maybe his past had more traction in the East, where the Paladins come from, and where Drun should've headed.
Welt calmed himself down a bit, having realized his own credibility, and decided to suppress his anger at Gahan's troublesome meddling. At least he'd skipped the queue, and was in a position to get information from it.
He still hated the man, though. Never again would he spare a thought for the man. If he ever saw him again, asking for help, he'd walk right by.
Thud!
Welt was pulled out of his imagination by the sound of a heavy bag landing on the table before him. As it fell the sound of jingling and sliding metal could be heard.
Coins?
There was a shimmer of silver light coming from inside the large bag, reflecting the light of the dim lanterns and candles of the barrack.
The bag was enormous. Closer to a sack than any coin pouch Welt had seen before.
There must at least...
"A thousand silvers. Welt, was it?"
The guard who'd placed the sack down clicked his teeth and motioned to a man at the hallway who began writing something down.
"...I guess so?" Welt replied, confused.
"Sorry for the delay, since even Endsham's silver supply is not limitless we'd needed a writ of guarantee from the Paladins to get the reward money to you. Surprising, really, that the guy would turn himself in but give you the credit."
"The credit?"
"For the bounty on him. The paladins have a thousand silvers on his head. Of course, you know that. The drunken priest seemed to tell us ceaselessly about how you convinced him to turn himself in and repent."
Welt's eyes widened in shock, but he quickly pulled them back to try and maintain his composure.
Sly, Priest.
No... Brother! You are my Brother, Gahan!
"We didn't believe you existed, to tell you the truth. But, given the... display... he put on at the gates, we would be neglecting our duties if you weren't duly paid. If there's on thing Endsham loves, its fair payment. And, well, its not like the money you're getting is ours. We will be reimbursed by the Paladins soon enough when they pass through with Queen Rhian's visit."
"I see. Well, thank you for paying me fairly and with haste."
Welt tried his best to maintain a straight face, but it was proving difficult. The sides of his mouth trembled as a grin tried to break across his face.
Welt liked to think he was not a materialistic person, but couldn't help himself when faced with such wealth. A thousand silvers was more money than he had ever seen with his own eyes before. Just thinking about all of the different tools, weapons, and armour he could get was making his head spin.
Why don't I start with some clothes?
It was true, he had remained bare-chested throughout the whole ordeal. He was in dire need of a new tunic, and a new cloak for a hood. He could hardly stand being in crowds without it.
"Don't worry about it. We all appreciate what you do around here, Pale Cub, and your father. How is he? Off on another job?"
"I thought you didn't believe I existed?"
"Well, not until we saw you. Your actual name is hard to place, but you appearance, especially your eyes, is pretty unmistakable. A young warrior with white-irised eyes... there's only one of those in all of the Harvestlands, Cub."
Welt's face twitched subtly at the mention of his unwanted monicker, and the comment about his eyes. But, considering the boon laying on the table, he was more than happy to let it pass.
"My father, to be truthful, has gone missing. I believe he is headed East, but I am unsure."
The guard's eyes widened.
"Ah, how worrying. I can ask around if you'd like? Maybe one of the watching guards has seen something. A man going on a journey East would most likely stop here, after all. Supplies and caravans all gather in this town."
"That would be good of you, Sir. Thank you."
"Please, Cub, call me Gale."
The man outstretched his arm.
"Gale. Please, call me Welt."
Welt grabbed the man's forearm for a friendly clasp. Gale seemed to mistake Welt's request to use his name as a sign of closeness. In truth, it was just because he hated being called a Cub.
Still, Gale seemed to be a great help: a man who was happy to help him find Drun, and had a good network of people in the city to gather any possible sightings.
Welt was nervous, though.
Drun was a man who was hard to miss: a large back, an imposing bear pelt, and a greatsword encased in marble and chains at his side. Nobody would mistake him. If he had come through Endsham, word of mouth should've spread to Gale already.
Gale is one person, however. Maybe the net of connections simply hadn't reached him yet?
Welt hoped this was the case.
As he walked out of the holding room of the barrack, with a large sack of silver tossed over his back, Welt passed through a hallway with several rooms on each side. One such room, glancing through the barred window in the door, housed Gahan, who looked particularly worse for wear.
The priest's nose was bleeding, bent slightly out of shape. His fingers looked bent, too, crooked and bruised. There was a lot of blood on the table, and a man was shouting at him across it. A new look rested on Gahan's face. But not one of fear or worry.
Tiredness.
Gahan seemed to not even register the words of the intimidating guard, or the violent and threatening movements the man made. Looking at a spot on the wall with semi-sunken eyes, and a drooping mouth with a slight frown.
"What, exactly, was he wanted for?" Welt asked, as they walked by.
Gale glanced in the room similarly and shrugged.
"Well, I'm not certain. Seems like he rustled the feathers of the powers that be in the East. Nothing much came from it initially, but with the Paladins being sent into the Harvestlands, and the Queen's visit coinciding, they've added him to their bounty list."
"What will happen to him?"
"Again I'm not certain, Welt. Likely, given the order's history, a swift death. Perhaps public hanging, but likely a private beheading. I don't believe Strahta will wait much longer for the drunk, though."
Welt walked out of the barrack with a cold feeling gripping his chest. Thanking Gale for his help, he was released onto the midnight streets of Endsham, with wind blowing his hair out of his face.
Shit...
Noticing a scratching feeling from his bandaged arm, where The Burden was hidden, Welt saw something sticking out, blowing in the wind.
Folded parchment?
Welt pulled it free, and unfurled it.
'Help me, Brother. Please'
Scrawled messily with red ink. Probably Gahan's blood.
His pale eyes, glowing whiter still in the moonlight, were filled with resolve.