You can read the advance chapters here : patreon.com/Vigilante04
---------------
"Have you ever seen such an old servant like me?" Jon Snow muttered under his breath. "I wouldn't give you these even if I starved to death."
"This is just a deposit," Ian replied, ignoring Jon's words. "Your reward will be one gold dragon per week."
He didn't set the price too high, as that might raise suspicions. Even so, it was already more than Jon was used to.
"Swaggering knights feeding horses, shoveling manure, or taking off their damn boots. Did you just say a gold dragon a week? By all seven, I love feeding horses the most!" Jon said with an exaggerated expression. "I used to do that at my grandfather's house when I was a kid."
"I'm not interested in stories about your childhood," Ian replied flatly.
"Oh? What are you interested in, then? Do you want me to kiss your arse?" Jon grinned mischievously.
"I need you to feed my horse. And if necessary, I want you to slit the throat of my enemies."
"A fair deal. Believe me, even if the stranger is your enemy, I'll stick a dagger in his arse," Jon said with a laugh.
"Stop, stop, stop! Don't say that again in front of me," Ian interrupted hastily.
"As you wish," Jon said with a wink.
"Sir, I can also feed the horses," Chiggen quickly interjected as Ian finally stopped. "I don't need the same high salary as him. I hope you can hire me too."
Ian almost returned Jon's words—Have you ever seen such an old servant? But he realized that he truly needed someone responsible for the horses. He nodded and said, "Your reward will be 30 silver stags per week, and it will double if you're involved in a battle. Any objections?"
"No, Sir," Chiggen replied with a frown, accepting the offer. Thirty silver stags a week was the pay for a typical combat mercenary. Doing some chores and earning 60 silver stags for battle? It was a good deal.
As for being jealous of Jon? Chiggen didn't feel that way. People only got jealous of others who were just a bit stronger or weaker than themselves. Jon was a man who could defeat three or five of him at once. Chiggen knew better than to feel envious of someone like that. He was here because of Jon's reputation.
The mercenaries around Denzel quietly withdrew their gazes, glad that their pay wasn't as low as Chiggen's, even though it was less than Jon's.
Like Chiggen, they weren't jealous of Jon. They all knew Jon's abilities well.
"So," Jon said, wrapping his arm around a woman, "we'll talk about this later?"
"This early in the morning?" Ian asked, raising an eyebrow.
"Mornings are the best," Jon grinned, kissing the woman on the cheek.
"Have you forgotten you're my squire?" Ian reminded him.
"But this is what you asked me to do, remember? It's part of the agreement," Jon defended himself.
"Alright," Ian laughed. He turned to Chiggen. "You can go too. It's part of the deal."
Chiggen hesitated, bowed to Ian, and led the woman upstairs.
Once the two of them were gone, Ian returned to the table.
Rohr shook his head, signaling that he hadn't noticed anything unusual when Ian recruited Jon.
"Just stay vigilant. By the way," Ian turned to Case. "Why did it take you so long to buy weapons?"
Case glanced at Ian but didn't answer. That made Ian frown.
What was going on with this guy? Ian had no doubt about Case's loyalty—he had always been active in carrying out orders—but since he'd come to Ian, he hadn't said a word.
Was he mute?
"Case can't speak," Rohr explained.
Sure enough, Ian thought to himself.
"Case was the first warrior in our batch to finish training," Rohr continued. "He traveled all over Essos in his youth. He won the championship in the great arena of Meereen and defeated a water dancer one-on-one in Braavos. He also killed a pirate king on the Stepstone Islands."
Damn it! Could only a "rare" resource be something players had to fight for?
"But these aren't the achievements Case is most proud of," Rohr added, shaking his head in a mysterious manner.
"So, what is his proudest achievement?" Ian asked.
"Well, after his adventures, he lived a prosperous life in Lys for a while, enjoying the wealth he gained. He became a frequent visitor to the houses of the trade princes there," Rohr began, taking his time to explain.
"There, with his swordsmanship—" Rohr paused, searching for the right words, "which made the sword in his hand seem like an ornament—he defeated four of Lys's trade princes at once. He even boasted that he could use his tongue just as effectively."
Keith suddenly raised his head and shot a glance at Rohr. The look was enough to make Rohr nervous. He hastily finished his story: "Anyway, for some reason, his tongue was injured, and after that, he couldn't speak anymore."
Ian didn't see the warning in Keith's eyes, but he noticed the unease in Rohr's expression. He chose not to press further, though he silently decided that Reese would remain a restricted area in his mind—a place he'd never revisit.
After Keith gave Rohr one last glare, he stood up and left. Moments later, he returned with a mercenary from Denzel, a Dornishman who had gone to buy equipment with him.
"Jazz? Are you looking for me?" the mercenary asked.
"Sit," Ian motioned with a raised chin. "What do they call me?"
"They all call me Moisty Meggie," the mercenary replied, taking a seat in front of Ian.
Ian made a mental note to apologize again for dismissing Denzel's nickname of 'Spike.' He couldn't deny that Meggie's name had its own charm.
"It took you two days to buy the armaments. Logically speaking, even if you had gone to Harrenhal instead of the nearest Darry City, it shouldn't have taken this long," Ian remarked, raising an eyebrow.
"Sir, we went to Darry City first," Meggie explained. "But the equipment there was all defective, and they didn't have a single horse for sale. So we had to head to Harrenhal to buy everything we needed."
Ian nodded, his thoughts drifting. It seemed Darry City had been hit harder than Harrenhal. Not only had they lost their fiefdoms, titles, and wealth, but they couldn't even sell off the old armaments they had left.
Of course, it wasn't entirely the Iron Throne's fault. After all, three of Sir Raymond Darry's brothers had died fighting for Rhaegar Targaryen, and the fourth had taken Viserys and Daenerys across the Narrow Sea.
The Targaryens were loyal, but who could predict what the new rulers would do?
"Alright, I have no issue with that," Ian waved his hand, signaling for Meggie to leave.
After a long wait, Ian finally saw Bronn and Chiggen coming downstairs together.
"You two certainly have a good understanding," Ian remarked with a smirk.
"He's been waiting for me for a long time," Bronn said, and the two mercenaries chuckled together.
"Now that the agreement has been made, it's time to get to work," Ian said firmly.
"I will serve you wholeheartedly, my lord," Bronn declared, making an exaggerated and comical noble bow.
"Me too," Chiggen added quickly.
"Good. Now go check on the horses. We're ready to leave," Ian ordered Bronn.
"Sorry to bother you, but we don't have a horse," Bronn replied.
"I'll provide you with horses, of course, along with better armor and weapons," Ian said, glancing at Keith. "I've temporarily left Sir Grantham's cavalry at the Black Falcon Mercenary Castle. I'll have a chainmail shirt sent to Bronn."
Chiggen won't need one, Ian thought, before turning to Bronn.
"By the way," Ian continued, "You're too similar to the original. If you're not careful, you might attract the attention of other players. Go shave off your beard, trim your hair, take a shower, and put on something clean and new."
"I..." Bronn opened his mouth to protest.
"This is part of the deal," Ian interrupted, handing him a golden dragon.
"You truly are a fastidious lord," Bronn said with a smile, pocketing the golden dragon and heading off.
Ian then turned to Chiggen.
"I'll take care of it right away," Chiggen said, bowing before turning to catch up with Bronn.
A while later, when they returned, both were much cleaner and fresher, their clothes now changed into new shirts provided by Martha.