Caracara's Hunt 41 An Illusion Of Choice

"First, let's get some things straight. I'm not here for you. I don't care if you live or die. My only concern is information that you will gain access to once you take over the whole outfit. For it, I'm willing to offer my a.s.sistance."

The woman nodded with appreciation, liking his directness. "And what information would that be?"

"Everything there's about the faction of your outfit that left for Ayersbert."

"Claus' men? Mhm… I don't care for them, but they're still part of Broken Talon. You're asking me to betray my people, Mr. Corwal."

"Do I?" Corwal asked with a raised eyebrow. "They've left, abandoning you. If it was me, I would be looking for ways to get them in trouble rather than help them. After all, you're about to lose because Claus left, destroying the last semblance of balance between the three factions."

A smile played on the woman's lips. Her face was hard and angled, but when she smiled, her features softened. For a moment, she looked like a young lady rather than a battle-hardened mercenary leader.

It lasted for only a moment, though. Her mirth died down, replaced by weariness.

"I appreciate your bluntness, but you can't help me. If I ally with Scarlet Treason, my own people will boot me away. Besides, we're doing the Challenge in five days, so simple numbers won't matter."

"The Challenge?" Corwal asked with some surprise. "Didn't the king outlaw it?"

"So?" The woman shrugged like it should have been obvious.

While Arawn wondered what in the world the Challenge could be, Corwal exchanged a look with Peter. The middle-aged man shook his head violently, but Corwal didn't seem convinced. He thought for a moment more, then returned his eyes to the woman.

"What if I helped you win it? Would we have a deal then?"

The young woman straightened finally, letting her feet down from the couch and sitting down formally. She stared at Corwal with a piercing gaze as if trying to cut into his head to see what was there.

It didn't seem to work though, since she crossed her arms and leaned back against the couch. "Just who are you? You can order Scarlet Treason without care and now act like winning the Challenge is child's play."

"Is having a bit of confidence in myself a crime now?" Corwal laughed, sounding amused. "And you haven't even told me your name, so is it that surprising that I keep my ident.i.ty to myself?"

"Corwal… I feel like I've heard this name somewhere before… It's common among you Bretians but…" The woman's eyes went to rest on Peter, examining his formal stance and position a step behind Corwal like he was a bodyguard.

It struck something in the young woman's mind, and she clapped, a smile lighting up her face once more. "You're THAT Corwal, aren't you? The one who established the outfit." She laughed while shaking her head. "I never expected to meet the legendary figure. Do you know that there are more stories about you than some saints and mythical beasts?"

Corwal inclined his head. "I've heard a few. It's amazing what rumors make of you when no one knows what you really did."

"The legendary Corwal in my small inn... It's such an honor that I'd rather you'd have never come. What could such a person really want from a n.o.body like me?"

"Exactly what I said. I've got my reasons for going after Claus' band of mercenaries, but first I need some information." He smiled crookedly. "Which only you can provide me."

The woman didn't look happy. She frowned at them, going over them with her eyes one by one. Whatever she saw didn't rea.s.sure her.

Yet she sighed and nodded. "Broken Talon couldn't fight against Scarlet Treason when it was united, let alone now when I have only a fraction of the people left. If you really help me win the Challenge, I'll give you access to the copies of all of Claus' dealings."

They talked a bit more, discussing the details of their cooperation, but the main problem had been solved. Only at the end did Arawn understand that the woman had never had the choice. If she refused them, Corwal would just bring Scarlet Treason and storm Broken Talon's base.

Dozens of people would die, and even if the woman burned the records, she would still have lost. Corwal wouldn't get what he wanted, but she and most of her people would be dead.

When faced with such a choice, the young woman couldn't choose anything else besides cooperation. Loyalty and unity were great, but they lost their charm once a person was asked to die for someone who had already abandoned them to the wolves.

They agreed to meet in three days to go where the Challenge would take place. Peter wanted to bring all of his people with him, but the woman shut down his idea in an iron voice. She would allow ten outsiders to join her entourage at most.

Corwal didn't dispute that, and Peter was left to simmer in anger by himself. For some reason, he turned his head to glare at Arawn, who just looked at him in surprise. What did he have to do with anything? He hadn't said a word throughout the negotiations.

Once they left, Corwal was in a good mood. He stopped by a vendor to buy himself some pears and gave a few to Arawn as well. "Let's go to the camp and meet everyone," he said to Peter. "Do you already have in mind who you want to take?"

The middle-aged man nodded. "River's band should serve well, and it's just the right size."

"Weren't there eight of them?" Corwal asked while giving him a questioning look. "Did he lose someone?"

The man shook his head, his teeth gritted. For a moment there was silence, no one speaking.

"I think he's trying to tell you that I'm not welcome," Arawn said after finis.h.i.+ng his pear. It had been juicy, so his fingers were all sticky, and he began to lick them clean.

"I got that part," Corwal said while giving him a disapproving look before turning back to Peter. "I'm just wondering when he got the right to decide that."

Anger flashed through the middle-aged man's eyes, but he quickly suppressed it. "He's not good enough. If we're going to partic.i.p.ate in the Challenge, we need people who can enter the fight. He'd be just wasting a spot..."

He spoke with seriousness, making it sound logical, but the smile on Corwal's face kept growing wider and wider. By the end of Peter's speech, he even broke out laughing. His mirth was infectious, and Arawn smiled as well.

"Did I say something wrong?" the middle-aged man asked in a taut voice, not finding the situation amusing.

"Like every word." Corwal chuckled a few more times before finis.h.i.+ng his own pear and cleaning his hands on a handkerchief. "Arawn is stronger than me, so if you take him out for being too weak, what am I doing in the group? Or you for that matter?"

"Impossible." The man shook his head, not pausing for even a second to consider the possibility of his words being true. "There's no one stronger than you. Even Archmage Tashar is weary of your power."

Arawn's head swivered toward his companion. Was Corwal really that strong? It was obvious that he was better than any of the untrained mages they had faced so far, but Arawn thought that was the normal standard for all the n.o.bles. Had he made a mistake?

"You're making a mountain of a molehill. Being smart with your power is different from having enough raw power to level a town." Upon noticing that Arawn was still staring at him, Corwal sighed and explained more. "In a one on one battle, I could probably defeat almost anyone, but duels are illegal.

"In a war though, people like you and the archmage are a lot more valuable. You don't need to be smart about the usage of your power simply because you've got more than enough of it. If you wanted to kill a battalion, you could just open the ground beneath them or send a fire tornado to burn them alive in a few minutes.

"As for me, I'd have to fight them in close combat and then would die a third of the way through because I'd run out of stamina and become unable to defend myself. That's why comparing our strength is just stupid. It's like saying that a dagger is a superior weapon to a bow."

Arawn nodded, understanding what he meant. They were good in their chosen field, and that was it. If Corwal was placed in the archmage's role, he'd be a grand disappointment instead of the s.h.i.+ning start as a combat mage.

"But you said I was stronger than you."

Corwal gave him a dark look. "Stop cheating and I won't say that. I can defend myself against archmage's wind and water, but what am I supposed to do against pure ether?"

"I…" Arawn couldn't find any words to defend himself. He was cheating. Kind of.

Pure ether was way stronger than all the elements due to the density of the white particles. His ether blades were made up of only ether while Corwal's water snake was mostly water with only a scattering of ether to hold it together.

"Stop pretending!" Peter shouted, attracting a few gazes from the pa.s.sersby. "You can't expect me to believe that this kid is better than you. I've seen you, Corwal, I know what you can do."

All amus.e.m.e.nt vanished from Corwal's face. He stopped in the middle of the street and turned to his old friend. "If you know me that well, then you should also know that I hate being patronized."

"I didn't—"

"Really? So you've been trying to make decisions for me since we met up today because I asked you? Because I pleaded for your advice?" He shook his head, looking disappointed. "I thought you would've changed in the three years, but you still act like I'm made of gla.s.s. Grow up for once, will you?"

He turned to leave. Before he went off though, he glanced back for a second. "Don't bother to come to the Challenge. I'll take care of it on my own."

"Corwal!"

Peter looked with distress at the man who had turned away from him, but he didn't chase after him. It was like something was holding him in place, rooted to the ground.

Joy burst on his face when he saw Corwal turn around, but the young man didn't look at him. "Arawn, what are you dawdling for? We need to find Val and tell him we're progressing well."

It felt like a hammer had struck Peter's chest. He didn't bow down, but only through sheer will power. His hand twitched with his wish to reach after Corwal, but what could he say? It was obvious that the young man didn't want to have anything more to do with him.

Peter had thought that years would blunt the edges, easing the tension between them, but it seemed that it had only been wishful thinking on his part. From the moment the boy had been thrown onto the twisted path, a ravine had opened up between them. And it seemed to be impossible to cross.

'I'm sorry, Gwen. It doesn't seem like I can ever reach your son. Every time I try, we only grow more apart.'

He watched the two men disappear into the distance, then turned and left the street. As much as he wanted to chase after his nephew to repair their relations.h.i.+p, it couldn't be done through force. Time was needed for the young man to calm down.

'At least there's still the Challenge. At that time, I'll have to prove to him that he should return to Scarlet Treason. He'd be safe with us and wouldn't have to risk his life on a daily basis for that vile king.'

At the thought of that treacherous, disgusting man, fury surged through Peter. Fires lit up in his eyes, and he swore to his sister once more than he would take revenge for her. Before that though, he had to make sure her son was safe. No revenge was worth the death of his family members.