A few days later, Gildo took some time off. As the sun began to set, he made his way to a particular venue, scowling the entire time. Tucked into a backstreet, its entrance was small enough that most passersby never even noticed it. Very few had any business there.
“Hey,” Gildo said as he stepped inside.
“There you are.”
“That all the welcome I get?” the mercenary scoffed. “Glum as ever, Tenrec?”
The man gave him an amused look. Despite his nickname, better suited to a rat than a man, Tenrec was in his prime, with an unremarkable build and ashen hair that let him blend into nearly any crowd. He looked frail enough to pass for a commoner, but there was nothing weak about him. He was dangerous—a major figure in the underworld whose real name no one knew.
“So the wolverine finally found himself a master,” Tenrec said with a smirk. “That’s what I keep hearing.”
“It’s not like that,” Gildo replied flatly. “I got caught up in a swarm and needed the coin, that’s all.”
“Sure. Let’s go with that.”
Gildo grimaced. Tenrec clearly knew everything. And worse, he’d dredged up that old nickname: wolverine. Though it had once inspired awe, Gildo had abandoned it long ago. Tenrec sometimes brought it up regardless.
Complaining was pointless. The man knew too much, and the nature of Gildo’s request only made things more awkward. It was obvious why the mercenary, who hated nobles so intensely, would ask for such information.
“First things first,” Tenrec said, offering a sheet of paper. “Here’s what you asked for.”
Gildo snatched it from him, skimmed it, and raised an eyebrow. “He had a permit?” Foreign merchants needed one to trade in Slivegrandia. The paper was an elaborate reproduction of their target’s, created with magic.
“Yeah,” Tenrec replied. “Your employer was onto something, though.”
“Go on.”
Gildo had only commissioned the man to investigate the merchant frequenting the Tanners’ marquessate. Liliana merely wanted confirmation of a permit, but Tenrec had gone the extra mile for old times’ sake.
Taking a swig from his bottle, Tenrec continued evenly, his expression unreadable. “Your merchant deals in clothing from Yunatian. He’s extremely selective with his clients, though. It’s strange—selling to nobles usually means expanding your market through connections, so being this picky isn’t natural.”
“Picky how?”
“He avoids loyalists and Arcacians entirely, selling only to families whose heads—or heirs—are neutral.”
Gildo bared his teeth at the unexpected revelation. “What a pain...”
“I’d steer clear if I were you,” Tenrec advised. “Though I doubt your employer will.”
The loyalists and the Arcacians were the kingdom’s two dominant factions: one backed Riley and the current king, while the other wanted Duke Ealdred to take the throne. Truly neutral nobles were rare, which made the merchant’s behavior even more suspicious.
Gildo clicked his tongue, scratching his head as if annoyed by the need to think. “Whatever. My job’s just to report back.”
“You’ve taken to her well, I see.”
“Get your eyes checked.”
Tenrec smirked, crossing one leg over the other. “When a little bird told me you’d taken a yearlong guard job in Hudore, I could hardly believe it.”
“I never planned on coming back here.”
“Makes sense. Still, sounds like you found yourself an interesting employer.”
“Oh, shove off.”
Tenrec seemed to enjoy Gildo’s irritation far too much. He continued to smirk, even as the mercenary’s mood got worse and worse.
“Is that all?” Gildo asked.
“Nope. They’ve started moving. Be careful out there.”
“They have? Where?”
“Everywhere,” Tenrec said, shrugging theatrically.
Gildo’s eyes narrowed into a glare. “Which one?”
“Both,” the man said, his voice tight.
Gildo tutted. “Like seventeen years ago?”
“Probably worse.”
“What...?”
The mercenary’s eyes narrowed even more. Tenrec gave him a knowing look, then said in his lowest voice yet, “I hear there was a leadership change two years back. Now the main and branch families are at odds with each other.”
“So it’s gonna be chaos.”
“I’d tell you to leave Hudore while you can, but the borders won’t be any safer.”
Silence fell, and Gildo’s ferocity seemed to chill the room. The group Tenrec referred to rarely acted openly, preferring to exert its influence from the shadows. Rumor even claimed it had helped secure the former king’s victory during the failed coup seventeen years earlier.
“Is this something you heard, or just a hunch?” Gildo asked.
“Just a hunch. For now.”
The strength drained from the mercenary’s shoulders. Though his face remained bitterly twisted, he no longer looked quite as fierce. As much as he disliked where things were heading, he didn’t say he would leave Hudore—even though his younger self would have packed up and gone without hesitation.
“There’re bound to be a lotta people coming after that employer of yours,” Tenrec added. After all, she was the leading candidate to become the crown prince’s fiancée.
“If she asks for more protection, how many people can you get me?”
Tenrec was so taken aback by the question that, unusually for him, he was momentarily speechless. He shook his head in utter disbelief before realizing Gildo was serious.
“Everyone’s shorthanded right now,” he said at last. “Most of the talent’s busy fighting monsters. At best, I could get you one or two people for any length of time.”
“That’s not enough.”
Tenrec shrugged; he’d expected as much.
“What about people who could train the girl to protect herself?” Gildo pressed.
Again, Tenrec fell silent. “You’re serious?” No matter how hard he stared at Gildo, the mercenary refused to budge.
“Feels like the easiest option.”
Hiring more amateurs barely able to hold a sword would do little to improve Liliana’s chances. Teaching her how to protect herself—or at least how to act around her guards—would be far more effective. It was an unreasonable expectation for most noble girls, but after watching Liliana since the swarm, Gildo suspected she might actually rise to it.
Tenrec, on the other hand, remained unconvinced. He didn’t know Liliana personally and had nothing to judge her by. Gildo waited in silence until, finally, the man rubbed his forehead and sighed.
“I’d ask if you hit your head, but...”
“I told you—I’m serious.”
“That just makes it worse,” Tenrec muttered. He thought for a moment. “What about Mantis? He’s expensive, but you won’t find anyone better.”
“Mantis, huh... Yeah. He’d do.”
“That settles it, then.”
“I’ll check with the girl first. Don’t contact him before then.”
“I won’t.”
Gildo pulled a pouch of coins from his pocket and tossed it across the table. Tenrec caught it effortlessly in his left hand, spread the contents out, inspected them, and grinned.
“Pleasure doing business with you,” he said.
Without another word, Gildo left. As he neared the door, all expression drained from Tenrec’s face, and his presence faded to almost nothing.
“Hey,” he said quietly.
A small figure emerged from the shadows.
“Find Mantis,” Tenrec said, not even turning his head. “Death Worm too.”
“He...should be tied up helping the branch family,” the figure replied—but Tenrec ignored the comment.
“Tell him he’s being headhunted.”
“Understood.”
Once the figure slipped away, Tenrec lit a cigar. A dark smile crept across his lips—one he would never have shown Gildo. Alone in the hush of the room, he spoke softly.
“Time to make some money.”