Corvus did not dwell long on what Captain Elric Ironbough insinuated; it was patent to everyone in the tent and, especially to someone of his station.
The Shardmarch will likely try to have the War Architect defect. And if he does prove too obstinate, then there always are other—less painless—options in the menu, Corvus thought.
Having witnessed the War Architect's stubborn nature—refusing to utter a single sound yet—Corvus doubted the feasibility of any attempt to enlist him without violence.
In any event, it isn't my job to decide, so why worry.
Getting up from the faldstool, Corvus exited the tent and subtly beckoned Elric, who was still pestering the War Architect.
Elric petted the War Architect with mock tenderness, and said, "Keep an eye on this one, if he tries something fishy—shave his fancy hairs. 'Kay boys and ladies." Elric too, left the tent.
Lucien remarked in a low voice, "He had fancy hairs, Cap, before you manhandled them."
After a brief pause, he added, "Hey, do you guys think he did it because of jealousy? Given his shedding problems, and all."
No one indulged Lucien for a while, then Soraya stepped forward and added neutrally, "I, for one, won't put such petty envy above Captain Ironbough." Her tone betrayed no sign of mischief, yet her remark encouraged others to follow suit.
Cedric, holding his chin, thoughtfully affirmed: "Indeed, a juvenile affront like this would be well within Captain's personality. As a matter of fact, if he had refrained himself, then that would've been more outlandish."
All five Squadron Leaders, mutually acknowledging the fact, nodded in tandem.
Meanwhile, Elric located Corvus on a stool behind the tent, he seated himself on another and asked, "What is it, brat?"
Corvus, visibly perplexed, placed a palm to his mouth: "A War Architect is—what is it, geezer! We have to move out now, before something beyond our league comes knocking."
"I'm well aware of that predicament. I've made certain arrangements, we'll depart as soon as they arrive."
"What arrangements?"
"A lesser unit of the Oathbounds was employed as mercenaries not too far away from here. I had one of Cedric's call them here."
Leaning backward, Corvus asked in a condescending tone, "Oathbounds... those war-mongering blockheads. What do we require them for?"
Elric responded plainly, "Not we boy—you. I've called them for you."
"Oh pray tell, what for Captain Elric?"
Elric, trying to determine the most appropriate way to put his point, scratched the back of his head.
Oh boy, he is really incensed—to address me of all people so politely. That's why I had the whole gang with me, but this brat just had to drag me out of there.
Looking at Corvus's haughty demeanour, he reckoned, The least I can do is make it sound pleasant.
Elric took a deep breath and tried to speak in a calm, soothing tone, "Listen, brat–I mean Corvus. The thing is..."
He observed Corvus's face contorting, almost as if he had heard something profane.
Elric dropped all pretense—wishing to forget the past few seconds—and stated bluntly, "You are to report on our finding to the Covenant of Eldara's Presidar, a close ally of the Shardmarch. The Oathbounds will ensure you don't draw unwanted attention."
"I see," Corvus replied absentmindedly.
Elric's eyes slightly widened in amazement, He took it surprisingly well. Don't tell me the brat's getting mature.
Perhaps, Corvus was still reeling in from the after effects of Elric's placating voice.
After a few seconds, Corvus questioned, "Why are they to accompany me, again?"
Elric let out a small sigh, I knew that was too good to be true.
He crossed his arms. "To help you blend in with normal, living humans."
Corvus raised an eyebrow. "Normal, living humans? What are you implying, geezer?"
"Normal, as in unlike those unhinged psychopaths back in the tent you usually socialize with. And living, as in you have to leave most of them alive after interacting and not murder them," Elric stated as a matter of fact.
With a smug look Corvus rebutted, "Zuberi is normal, and I get along with him just fine, so check your facts, geezer. Also you're the most unhinged of them all, so don't criticise others."
Elric disregarded Corvus's last statement as, Fanciful rant of a foul mouthed boy.
And continued, "There's no easy way to put it, boy. But the truth is: you're socially inept. The Oathkeepers are going with you."
Corvus was a little irked, but ultimately gave up: "Okay, fine! Have it your way, old fart."
Corvus rose from the taboret. "Let's break the news to the gang: their Vice-Captain's departure with a bunch of strangers—and on what audacious charge."
His voice sounded distant as he walked away from Elric, soon disappearing from sight.
Elric added under his breath, "Can't say they'll be surprised, at all."
Corvus picked some commotion coming from the entrance. Six horsemen entered the bailey. Guided by one of the band members, they advanced toward the tent with the War Architect.
"Who are they, Vice-Cap Corvus?" Felix, waiting outside the tent, asked.
"The arrangements, I reckon," Corvus replied and placed his hand on Felix's head.
The horsemen dismounted near the tent's entrance, and approached Corvus and Felix. One of them, a man in his late twenties with an upright bearing, stepped forward.
He extended his hand toward Corvus for a handshake. However, Corvus only glared at him and assumed a cross-armed posture.
The man awkwardly laughed it off, retracting his hand, he spoke formally, "I am, Captain Ewan Fraser from the Oathbounds. Captain Elric Ironbough had requested our service, so could you please tell us where he is, mister?"
Corvus, however, paid no attention to the words, for his mind was engrossed by a different train of thought:
...not too shabby, indeed. He's in his prime, so agile, but the lack of decent armor makes him an easy prey to Kharos. I bet I could slice him clean in two with a single slash, if the need arises—which it always does. As for his companions, I can stall them until the others flank them; neutralizing them will be manageable. And that adds one more method for securing a bloodless victory. They're right in my palm, and they have no idea.
Corvus was almost finished with his hypothetical scenario for murdering the Oathkeepers, when he heard Felix: "...this here is Vice-Cap Corvus of the Reavers. The Captain is–"
"Who do you think you are, runt? To address our Captain without any decorum or title! I ought to pluck out your tongue for such insolence, boy!" an Oathkeeper with long brunet hair barked.
The brunet Oathkeeper was justified in pointing out Felix's inapt conduct, given Ewan Fraser's rank, which rivaled that of Corvus's. Yet he had misjudged his setting when he overreacted and made idle threats.
Corvus strode forward, stopping just inches from the brunet Oathkeeper, despite the man standing a head taller.
The Oathkeeper bristled under Corvus's cold, disdainful gaze, yet Corvus never once met his eyes. To him, the man's existence was a triviality not worth his regard.
"Vice-Captain, have I offended you? I've not said—"
Corvus cut him off in a voice that carried authority and contempt alike. "It's Vice-Captain Corvus Ashford. Address your betters properly, soldier."
"Yes, of course, Vice-Captain Corvus Ashford. I hope—"
"Vice-Captain Corvus Ashford of the Reavers, from the Shardmarch Sovereignty," Corvus interrupted again.
The brunet Oathkeeper's jaw tightened and fists clenched.
But the chilling weight of Corvus's stare left no room for defiance. He exhaled through his teeth and yielded, "Vice-Captain Corvus Ashford of the Reavers from the Shardmarch Sovereignty."
Watching the exchange, Elric sighed quietly. Making friends everywhere, aren't we.