Raisa Vangrit, captain of the Black Claw Mercenaries, laughed the moment she saw me.
It wasn't a laugh of welcome, but an appraisal. Her reddish-brown hair was tied back in a messy ponytail, she wore scarred leather armor, and she had one leg hooked over the rung of her chair. Her posture was poor, and she looked like she had a foul mouth to match. However, the sword at her waist told a different story. The scabbard was old, but the leather wrapped around the hilt had been replaced before it could wear through. The gauntlets sitting on the table had also had their seams repaired. She was likely a woman accustomed to being seen as just another filthy mercenary in a filthy inn, but her tools of the trade were anything but.
"What business does a lordling have in a place like this? If you came to gawk because a woman mercenary captain is such a rarity, I’m charging a viewing fee."
Her voice was rough. The mercenaries around us shifted their gaze toward me. Some were laughing, but not all of them were off-guard. A man near the entrance sat in a position that would allow him to spring up while still holding his cup. A woman by the window had her back to the wall, keeping an eye on the road outside. An archer in the back was pretending to be drunk, but his hand was within easy reach of his quiver. I see. Even while carousing in a tavern, they held the entrance and the windows.
I sat in the chair across from Raisa.
Clarice remained standing beside me, her brow furrowing slightly. For a woman raised as a noble's daughter, the atmosphere of this tavern must have been quite oppressive. However, Clarice didn't flee. She watched the number and movements of the mercenaries with the same eyes she used to examine ledgers.
"I’m not paying to gawk. I'll pay to have bandits crushed."
"Heh. You’re a remarkably straightforward noble. Usually, your lot starts by lining up pretty words about 'for the sake of the people' or 'for justice' and all that."
"If pretty words could kill bandits, I’d line up as many as you like. Since they can't, it’s faster to talk about gold and steel."
The corner of Raisa's mouth curled up.
"For someone with the face of a villain, you sure get to the point quickly. So, what do you want the Black Claw to do?"
"Investigate and crush the bandits ravaging the Southern Highway. Recover the stolen wheat. Do not let those who laid hands on the villagers escape. But before that, I want to ask: how far are you willing to go against bandits?"
"By 'how far,' do you mean 'can we fight with dignity'? If so, you’d better go home. We aren't the Knights. We don't do the kind of work where we raise a banner, announce our names, and trade blows head-on in the morning sun. We move at night. We set traps. If we can buy off a bandit's comrade, we buy them. If there's an escape route, we crush it first. It’s what you nobles call 'dirty' tactics."
The atmosphere among the surrounding mercenaries grew tense.
They likely expected to be insulted. Dirty. Cowardly. A rabble that couldn't even imitate knights. Their faces showed they had heard such things from nobles many times before. Raisa was smiling, but her eyes were cold.
I placed a finger on the table and spoke slowly.
"If the bandits are in the mud, I need someone willing to reach into the mud. If I hire knights in white gloves and they stop at the edge of the muck, it’s a waste of my money."
Raisa's eyes narrowed.
"…You aren't going to call our methods filthy?"
"I don't care if they’re dirty or not. I only care if they're useful. The man holding the entrance, the woman watching the window, the archer in the back—you make it look like you're carousing in a tavern, but you’re watching for escape routes and kill zones. At the very least, you’re suited for bandit hunting."
The archer let out a small chuckle, and the man at the entrance set down his cup. Raisa remained silent for a moment before finally leaning back into her chair.
"…You have a strange way of looking at things, Lordling. Usually, people look at the stains on the walls of this inn, or how old my people's clothes are, or they look at the fact that I’m a woman and scoff."
"Stains on the wall won't cut down bandits. The age of their clothes is irrelevant. If being a woman made your sword dull, that would be another matter, but that blade doesn't look dull to me."
"You’ve got a silver tongue."
"I don't. I'm simply stating facts."
Raisa burst out laughing. Her laugh was coarse, but it didn't feel unpleasant. Her subordinates relaxed their shoulders slightly. It seemed I had passed the first gate.
◇
Raisa was a former member of the Kingdom Knights.
When that topic came up, the atmosphere in the tavern shifted. The mercenaries likely knew of their captain's past, and no one made light of it. Raisa herself swirled the liquid in her cup with an expression like someone showing off an old scar.
"Until three years ago, I was in the Kingdom Knights. I was fairly high up. I could swing a sword, and I was given command of a unit. But you see, the Knights can't just be strong. Superiors' reputations, family status, which way the banners are facing, who gets to announce their name first… To protect things like that, there are times when you have to abandon a village you could have saved."
"Did you rebel against that?"
"Who knows… I just found it ridiculous to stand in front of a burning village waiting for orders. I moved on my own and dragged my superior's name through the dirt. Thanks to that, there was no place for me in the Knights anymore. It isn't a pretty story. I didn't quit; I just lost my place there."
Clarice watched Raisa quietly. As fellow exiles who had been driven from their homes, there might have been something she understood. However, Raisa's face wasn't one that sought sympathy. Rather, she looked ready to bite the moment anyone dared to pity her.
I reached for neither my cup nor her past.
"I don't care about your time in the Knights. The only issue is whether you can crush the bandits now."
Raisa's eyes widened for a split second, and then she let out a loud laugh.
"Haha! I like it. You don't put me on a pedestal as a former knight, nor do you look down on me as a failure. You just don't care?"
"I don't. Will praising your past improve your current skills?"
"It won't."
"Then I don't need to hear it. I want to reclaim my wheat and the highway. Whether you're a former knight or a former bandit, if you're useful, I’ll pay. If you aren't, I won't. That's all there is to it."
"You really are an unpleasant noble… but I don't hate you."
Raisa set her cup down and leaned forward. She was a woman who embodied the role of a big-sister leader. She was rough, but she had an eye for her subordinates. Her face suggested she hated her men being treated like dogs more than she hated being hurt herself.
"If you’re hiring us, I’ll tell you this upfront. We’re cheap, but we don't work for free. This is a job where we might die. I want an advance. If anyone gets hurt, I want money for medicine. If there are more bandits than expected, I’ll take a surcharge."
"That is only natural. If I’m making you risk your lives, I will pay. However, I will not pay anyone who lays a hand on the villagers. I will not pay anyone who hides stolen goods. I will not pay anyone who runs away. There is no point in hiring mercenaries to crush bandits if they simply become another pack of bandits."
Raisa's smile deepened.
"Heh. You don't trust mercenaries at all, do you?"
"Is there a need for trust? We simply need a contract."
"You say things far harsher than the lot in the Knights."
"The Knights are expensive and slow. You lot seem cheap and fast. However, just because you’re cheap doesn't mean I’ll tolerate you doing as you please. If I’m paying you, do the work I’m paying for."
Clarice let out a small sigh beside me. She probably thought my way of speaking was the absolute worst. However, Raisa didn't get angry. If anything, she seemed to like it.
"Fine, you villain-faced noble. You have no intention of trying to make us mercenaries into pretty little dogs, do you?"
"If a dog works, I’ll provide food. Even more so for a human."
"Really, what a terrible way to put it."
Raisa stood up with a laugh. She was taller than I had expected. She took her cloak from the back of the chair and gave the sword at her waist a light pat.
"First is the reconnaissance. Number of bandits, location of their nest, sentries, escape routes. Anyone who charges in without seeing those first is an idiot, whether they’re a knight or a mercenary. If it’s the Southern Highway, I can send people out today."
"Send a report first. If the report has value, I’ll pay for that as well."
Raisa's movements stopped.
"You’re going to pay for a report?"
"Of course. It's more expensive if you charge in blindly and die. It’s cheap if a single piece of paper reduces the body count."
Raisa stared at me for a while.
The look in her eyes was a bit different from when I first saw her. It wasn't a gaze meant to mock a noble, or one for a business partner. It was a gaze trying to confirm whether this man truly viewed a mercenary's work as a profession.
Eventually, Raisa gave a sharp grin.
"I like you. I’ll take the job. But if you're planning to use my people up and throw them away, I’ll come for your head before I go after the bandits."
"I don't have the luxury of using people up. If they're useful, I’ll use them for a long time. It’s more profitable that way."
"You really stay true to your character until the very end, don't you, Lordling?"
"I’ll take that as a compliment."
Clarice held her head in her hands beside me.
"Please, stop speaking to a mercenary captain like that. We’ll end up in a fight before the contract is even signed."
Hearing that, Raisa laughed out loud again.
"No, it’s fine. I like him, young lady. Your master has a bad face, but his eyes aren't rotten."
"The comment about my face was unnecessary."
"But it's a fact, isn't it?"
"Even if it's a fact, don't say it."
The mercenaries laughed. The atmosphere in the tavern relaxed slightly, but I didn't let my guard down. The Black Claw Mercenaries might be useful, but the more useful someone is, the more dangerous they are if the terms are wrong. Raisa Vangrit wasn't looked down upon because she was a woman; most likely, she was a woman who was hated because she was too strong and refused to bend.
I stood up and said one last thing.
"Raisa. Crush the bandits. If you can restore my wheat and my peace, I will hire the Black Claw."
Raisa placed her hand on the hilt of her sword as if raising a cup.
"Fine. For the sake of protecting a corrupt noble’s wallet, I’ll go take a look at those bandits for you."
Not just my wallet, but my peace too.
I started to say that, but stopped.
The things I wanted to protect weren't worth going out of my way to mention. If the bandits were crushed, the wheat would return. If the wheat returned, the domain would function. If the domain functioned, my afternoon nap would draw closer.
For that sake, I would use a female mercenary captain hated by the Knights as much as I pleased.
So long as the price was right.