A Lord's Duty by J.S. Crews

Author:J.S. Crews [Crews , J.S.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Ghastly Oak Publishing
Published: 2018-01-24T07:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eleven

“The Warchief”

Vytaus’s patience was running thin.

The renegades were intent on haggling, and he simply wanted to be free of their presence. Normally, life in the Northlands made for an isolated existence, but there were occasionally opportunities for outside trade. Those amenable to risk in return for profit sometimes skirted around the patrols from the Galenni greenlander’s Fort Lookout and rowed ashore, or else such as these would sneak across the Long River in violation of their people’s laws.

Those laws forbade open dealings with Vytaus’s people, because the simpering Galenni nobles feared the stronger Wodonni arming themselves with good steel. How else to maintain their advantage? Pronouncing such restrictions did little, however, because their own people lusted after the pale yellow-green garnet stones Northlanders dug from the earth more than they feared displeasing their own rulers. More proof of their weakness, he thought to himself.

Vytaus could hardly tolerate them. As much as he thought of the southerners as weak, he still could not bring himself to respect men who would arm their own enemies just to satisfy greed. He also took offense at the way they gawked at his people. Perhaps visiting a Wodonni community was a novelty for them, but those of the northern clans were prideful. Unfortunately, necessity dictated the need for trade, especially now.

Whether he agreed with it or not, the decision to invade the lands to the south had already been made. All that was left now was to plan and prepare. That preparation involved obtaining more and better weapons, hence the negotiation in which he and his eldest son were now embroiled. The clans could fashion their own iron weapons and tools, but those lacked the strength of the steel forged in the south, and if Vytaus was taking his warriors to war he would see them outfitted properly. Some, like he, already possessed steel taken off kingdom corpses they had made, but not everyone.

Vytaus was also thinking strategically. As the preparations for war became more and more pressing, other chieftains would want these weapons for their warriors as well, and urgency would drive up their value. Unlike most, however, he had little interest in profiting personally; instead, he saw it as his way of gaining influence.

The dirty-faced mercenary speaking for the Galenni renegades was suddenly pointing at Vytaus, drawing him out of his ruminations. He had lost interest in the posturing that went along with the haggling and allowed his mind to wander, largely because he was growing tired of hearing the man mangle the Wodonni language. Most in the Northlands spoke the Trade Tongue at least passingly well, but this fool apparently was not aware of that fact and insisted on trying to speak the northmen’s language. He was not good at it.

“What is the fool asking now?”

Belios looked sidelong at his father, surprised at the insult toward one with at least some understanding of their tongue. “Father,” he began, then hesitated. “I think he’s asking for your torque to be included in the deal.

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