Bronn (3)

"You finally told the truth, Bronn!"

"Now we can talk!"

Suleiman's voice sounded again, with a hint of amusement that was difficult to detect.

To Bronn, he was terrifying and utterly mysterious.

He kept replaying everything in his mind.

This young nobleman had to know who he was!

"You killed a man when you were twelve." Suleiman tossed out the remark in an unhurried voice.

Bronn's mind went blank.

That was his secret. He had never told anyone about it!

And now he was nothing more than an unknown sellsword.

How could anyone have gone out of their way to learn about something he'd done when he was twelve?

"Y-you know how?" Bronn rasped, forcing out the words, his voice trembling slightly.

His eyes held nothing but shock and fear.

What was the deal with this young nobleman?

"I know everything about you."

"So let's get down to business."

Suleiman smiled and didn't pry any further into Bronn's past.

In truth, the original story had never revealed Bronn's past.

Bronn himself had told Tyrion about killing a man when he was twelve.

But that was enough.

Suleiman sat down and leaned back in his chair.

"You're a rare talent, Bronn."

He extended his right hand in invitation.

"I have a new plan, Bronn."

"A plan that could make you truly rich."

"Interested in hearing it?"

To be honest, Suleiman didn't like Bronn.

As long as the price was right, the man had no loyalty whatsoever.

And he had no principles.

But to Suleiman, he was a rare talent.

He was a skilled swordsman.

And at present, Bronn was still an unknown.

No one would offer him more than Suleiman would.

So there was no need to worry about him betraying Suleiman. Not yet.

"Lord Suleiman? What do you mean?"

Bronn's heart gave a sudden jolt. He licked his dry lips and asked, tense.

"What I mean is simple." Suleiman leaned back in his chair and pointed at Bronn. "I need men, especially capable men like you."

There was no point in hiding it.

He openly admitted that he was recruiting.

Bronn watched Suleiman in silence.

"What can you offer me?" Bronn finally asked. His voice had regained the cool, practical tone unique to sellswords.

That was what mattered most to him.

Loyalty, honor—all that was bullshit.

Only real benefits could sway a sellsword.

Suleiman smiled.

He suddenly thought that the young Bronn seemed a little foolish.

He was actually trying to bargain with him.

"You don't get to choose, Bronn."

"Either you accept,"

"or you take the black and guard the Wall."

"Or you'll be hanged for desertion!"

Bronn fell silent. He felt as though this young nobleman had everything under control.

But he had no strength left to argue.

Still, he would never do something that brought him nothing but trouble.

"You've seen my soldiers, haven't you?"

Suleiman looked at Bronn and spread his hands. Time to offer him a carrot. His tone was casual.

"Notice anything?"

"They're all rich."

Bronn looked up at Suleiman. He had noticed that strange detail.

"My soldiers and I have an agreement. I take half the spoils, and they get the other half."

"Their share is divided according to merit!"

Suleiman gestured for Bronn to stand.

"I'm not hiring you!"

"But with your skills,"

"you'll make a lot of money in my ranks. A lot."

He paused, emphasizing his next words. "When the war is over,"

"you can leave with the money you earned through your own sweat."

"Most importantly, I'm giving you an opportunity."

"An opportunity to make a name for yourself!"

"That'll make things easier for you down the road, won't it?"

Bronn was genuinely frightened now. This man knew everything.

He knew what Bronn wanted, what he dreamed of!

"Sounds tempting." Bronn grinned as he got to his feet. "But the risks are high too, aren't they?"

"War is opportunity, and chaos is a ladder." Suleiman shook his head. "Besides, you have no choice."

"You can take your time to think it over."

"But I should warn you: I don't have much time, and my patience is limited."

"Once I run out of patience, you'll get a rope."

Bronn's smile froze. The casual air vanished from his face in an instant.

He drew a deep breath. "Ser Suleiman of Foulkeep, I... I accept."

In fact, dividing the spoils according to merit—

For a sellsword, that was an arrangement straight out of paradise.

That was why Suleiman had considered it carefully.

Given the way Bronn was, it was hard to believe he'd faithfully serve as a hired man.

But this kind of half-partner arrangement was different.

He'd do everything he could

to get more money.

Bronn wasn't someone who could be easily swayed by words.

Only naked self-interest and pressure he couldn't resist could make him obey, at least for now.

"Good, Bronn." Suleiman's voice turned casual again, as if he hadn't been the one speaking just moments ago. "You made the wise choice."

"You're a clever man, Bronn." Suleiman casually pulled the dining knife from where it had been stuck in the table. "And I like dealing with clever people."

Bronn felt that the tension had eased a little, and finally asked the question on his mind.

"Do you know me, Lord Suleiman?"

"I know you, but I don't know you." Suleiman answered without expression. "I just met you."

Bronn looked utterly confused.

"You can leave now!" Suleiman gestured toward the door.

"One more thing!"

Bronn had already turned to leave. At those words, he froze in place.

He had no idea what the young Ser Suleiman wanted.

"You're going to apologize to the soldier you injured. My soldier."

Bronn drew a deep breath. "I will, my lord!"

Suleiman watched Bronn leave.

Then he signaled for Lushen and Lausman to come over.

"Keep a close eye on him!" Suleiman said slowly. "But he's a very good swordsman. You can use this time to learn from him."

Lushen and Roslyn had brute strength, like farmers working the fields, but little else in the way of swordsmanship. Training with Bronn might be a chance for them to improve.

Suleiman didn't believe Bronn had truly decided to work with him. A seasoned schemer like that could run off at any moment.

Suleiman didn't possess some kingly aura that would make Bronn bow down and pledge himself to him.

Besides, loyalty was what mattered most to him, even if the person was utterly useless.

The two men both looked a little confused.

At last, Lushen spoke.

"Lord Suleiman, is he really a deserter?"

Suleiman smiled and picked up the sheet of parchment from the table, shaking his head. "There's nothing written on this paper."

Roslyn's mouth fell open in even greater shock.

"Lord Suleiman, do you know him?"

"You seem to know a lot about him."

He found it strange. Lord Suleiman seemed to know everything about this man, yet they had never met him, nor had they ever seen the Old Lord deal with him.

"He's a fine sword, but not a good man." Suleiman...