The trip back was spent mostly in silence. They all had things to mull over. They returned the horses, then Viv left Farren on the doorstep of the temple just as the sun was setting. They walked to what she had come to call home.

And to an unpleasant surprise.

Three people waited for them by the entrance. There was the male mercenary with a villainous moustache and cheeks pitted with scars who had insulted Marruk when Viv had first met her. He was still wearing chainmail under a leather surcoat. By his side were two other men. One was tall and strong, and looked rather uncomfortable while the other was small and wore an ill-fitting leather jerkin. He was trying to grow a moustache and failing rather miserably.

“Walk in, then stand by the door,” she whispered to Marruk. The Kark looked surprised, but she nodded in acknowledgement.

Her little troop approached the mercenaries, then left them behind as they walked left and through the fence gates leading to their front porch. Viv bent forward to pick up her stuff from the sled, but stopped when the taller mercenary placed a hand on the fence.

“This is a private property,” she told him in a cold tone.

The brawny man turned to his boss, who elbowed the scrawny lad with little discretion. Marruk had taken a step forward and her hand was on her mace. Her eyes scanned the street and the house for more threats. Arthur clawed her way out of her nest, glaring at the newcomers with undisguised appetite.

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“My boss says that you speak Old Imperial, so I’ll speak Old Imperial for him.”

Viv waited.

“Right. My boss says that we heard that the tunnel contract was closed. He said that it was bad practice to steal a job from other mercenaries, especially from him.”

“Curious. I was under the impression that he had refused.”

The scrawny one turned and translated. The chainmail boss spoke Enorian, but with a thick accent that made him hard to follow for Viv. She really had to find time to learn the vernacular.

“My boss says that he and Farren were negotiating his wage. He says that you owe him for the lost opportunity,” the scrawny man translated with some hesitation.

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A wave of fear went through Viv. It came from the chainmail man and she recognized it well. It was intimidation. She instinctively fought back with her own, but it was not enough. The sense of dread the mercenary emitted was palpable.

Viv had not spent her youth being exhibited by her politician Dad without learning how to hide her emotions. She did it now. She took a deep breath and let the fear wash through her once. When her breath ended, the fear was in the background. It was still there, but it was no longer paralyzing. Just something that gripped her guts and made her want to swallow her saliva.

“Your boss wants money?”

“Yes,” the man said, suddenly hopeful.

One thing she knew was that she could not let herself be bullied once. If you allowed it to happen once, it would haunt you for a long time. She had to act now, so she removed her purse from a pocket under Marruk’s scandalized gaze, took a single iron bit, and threw it on the ground beyond the fence where it plinked against a stone.

“Tell your boss that if he sings me a nice song, I’ll consider giving him another.”

The scrawny mercenary’s answer choked in his throat.

“Tell him.”

The man turned around and translated with visible fear. The boss’ anger leaked from his expression as his smile grew strained. Viv did not understand. Casters were supposed to be scary. Was it because she was inexperienced and the man knew it, somehow?

“My boss says that you are far from your home, and that you never know when something bad might happen and you might need friends. It’s not that filthy Kark who—”

The boss had withdrawn a dagger from a hidden sheath and was checking its sharpness with a thumb. This, Viv could not tolerate.

A charged purge spell shot from her right shoulder, before angling down. As expected, the mercenary saw it come, but surprise and the strange trajectory threw him off enough for the spear to land. The dagger’s tip fell to the ground as the entire blade was severed near the handle. If it could cut through stone, it could definitely cut through half a centimeter of iron.

“If you show me a naked blade again, I will assume that you intend to use it,” she coldly declared. Inside, she felt super giddy because that was definitely on the awesome end of banter. Like a girl Dirty Harry. Speaking of which…

Intimidation: Intermediate 2

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