Two Mercenary Captains

"The sigil of Gulltown's Grafton family," Ian answered.

"You truly are knowledgeable."

"Heraldry is a required subject for nobles." Though I was no noble myself. "So," Ian returned to the subject, "he arrived at the inn yesterday afternoon? And he still hasn't left today?"

"Yes, and he didn't order breakfast either."

"Then what sort of rush is he in to get to King's Landing?" Ian glanced out the window. Judging by the sun's height, it was probably already past nine in the morning. What traveler still hadn't set off at this hour?

"I don't know, Ser."

Of course you fucking don't. "Go knock on his door and ask whether he needs breakfast. While you're at it, observe his room and see what he's doing. Then come report to me."

In truth, Ian's instincts told him that this knight was unlikely to be a player. After all, if he were here to form an alliance or hunt, there was no reason for him to tell the innkeeper that he was heading to King's Landing.

But sending Jannie to check cost nothing extra.

"Yes." Jannie was reluctant. If that ser was still asleep, there was no telling how badly he might curse her. But compared to that, she feared the "richest man in the world" before her more.

"Also, have Martha bring our breakfast herself later."

"Yes, my lord."

"While Martha is busy in the kitchen, you can cover her duties here. You may ask her about the details now, but remember, I am carrying out a very important and secret capture. If the secret leaks out—"

"It won't, absolutely not. I swear it." Jannie hurriedly assured him.

Ian waved a hand, signaling that she could leave.

Only then did Jannie run out of the room as though a weight had been lifted from her shoulders.

Before long, a breakfast that was already lavish by the standards of this era was brought into Ian's room.

The meal consisted of a pot of mutton stew made with turnips, barley, carrots, and onions; a large fat goose; a bowl of buttered peas; a plate of beet salad; three portions of oat bread; and three cups of ale.

Ian did not drink in the morning, so he gave the ale to Roar.

"Tell me about the Black Falcon." Ian accepted the stew Martha had ladled for him.

"My apologies, Ser. I haven't spoken with Boss Mogen yet."

Ian looked at her, waiting for an explanation.

"It's like this. Boss Mogen hasn't left his room, nor has he ordered breakfast. He should still be asleep."

"Your niece just reported to me that a knight of House Grafton was still asleep. What, did the two of them sleep together?"

"You do love to joke, Ser."

"So do I need to personally teach you how to knock on a door?" Ian rolled his eyes. "If he isn't up, can't you wake him?"

"I don't dare, Ser. Boss Mogen hates being disturbed while sleeping." Martha hurriedly shook her head. Seemingly noticing Ian's displeasure, she quickly tried to make up for it.

"But I've already handled the other mercenaries for you! The four unaffiliated mercenaries have been sent away. Of course, there's still one mercenary in the inn who only arrived yesterday. I didn't do anything about him and let him remain in the hall."

"And then, and then," Martha continued, "the two mercenary captains, Spike Denzel and Ser Gransen, have expressed their willingness to serve under your command. Denzel's Mercenary Company has nine men. I negotiated a price of 3,000 Silver Stags per month for you. Ser Gransen has only four men under him, but they are all cavalry. Their monthly price is 2,500 Silver Stags."

"Can they come see me now?" Ian had no issue with the price. Three times the market rate had been his own offer.

"Yes, they have been waiting for you for quite some time."

"Then let's see them first. Go bring the two captains in. Also, keep an eye on the Black Falcon. Once he comes out, speak to him about my matter immediately."

"Yes." Martha left the room after receiving her orders.

Before long, a handsome young man with wine-red hair and a middle-aged man in chainmail knocked and entered together.

The wine-red-haired youth wore a Dorne-style robe, with a short curved blade and a dagger hanging from his belt. The middle-aged man wore a Chainmail Shirt with no other protective gear, and a longsword hung at his waist.

Clearly, neither man had any intention of disarming before entering. Nor could Ian possibly make such a request himself; that would only make him seem lacking in confidence.

Without waiting for Ian's command, Keith casually stepped forward and positioned himself against the wall between Ian and the two mercenaries. The distance would not affect Ian's conversation with them, but if the mercenaries made any suspicious move, he could subdue them at once.

"You look very young, my lord," the young man said with a smile.

"I am Ser Lucian Lannister, not a lord," Ian corrected.

Ian had not corrected Jannie when she called him "my lord" earlier, because titles did not matter much to commoners like her. But one of the mercenary captains before him was a ser, so such matters needed to be made clear.

Since the role he was playing was that of a ser, he could not presumptuously accept the title of "my lord." Ian had no need to leave a bad impression over such a trivial matter.

"A member of House Lannister?"

"Is there a problem?"

"No." The young man shook his head. "My name is Denzel. People usually call me Spike. It is an honor to serve you."

What a lousy nickname.

"Ser Gransen," Gransen introduced himself as well, then got straight to the point. "Regarding the price Martha discussed with us, we can receive 2,500 Silver Stags per month—"

"That was my decision. There is no need to doubt it." Ian looked at Denzel again. "And 3,000 for your company. As for payment, I can give you half in advance and the other half once the task is complete."

"No. We need the full amount in advance," Gransen refused immediately.

"That isn't the rule in this line of work." Ian smiled.

"But for your task, it is the rule in this line of work."

"My task?" Ian narrowed his eyes. "What did Martha tell you?"

"She told us nothing. But I assume you need us to do something very dangerous, don't you?"

"Why would you think that?"

"You offered three times the market price. If the task were not especially dangerous, who would offer such compensation?"

"As rich as a Lannister." Ian quoted a saying widely spread throughout Westeros. "What I need you to do will take a very long time and require obedience and discipline, but there will basically be no danger. As for why I offered three times the price, that begins with an experience I had two years ago."