537. Good Sir III

537. Good Sir III

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Adam said. “Like I said, if you want to die, don’t involve me. Sir Landon, hurry up and tell-,” Adam cleared his throat, inhaling deeply as he calmed himself. “Sir Landon, I implore you to speak with your brother. If Jurot starts spilling blood, I don’t believe we will be able to stop him. It may come to pass that your brother will find himself at the mercy of my brother’s axe, and, inevitably, there’s going to be a lot of death. I’m sure that things will escalate, and we’ll get involved because, let’s face it, you’re going to want to kill us to keep things quiet since we’re witnesses.”

Sir Landon’s face contorted in immense confusion, trying to understand what Adam was saying.

“Once the Iyr finds out that Sir Manon Littlesea has broken the treaty, you’re going to find that there may not be a Littlesea family in East Port, if East Port is even allowed to exist.”

‘What is this fool saying?’

Jurot remained standing tall and proud, ready to fight the knight in heavy armour. He supposed they were almost the level of a Master, but they were more than likely an Aldishman. Jurot estimated, with Phantom in hand, he would be able to defeat the knight before him, but that wasn’t the question at hand.

‘Do I kill him?’

“Hey, I’m just letting you know,” Adam began, glancing between the two nobles, “no guard is going to ask me to disarm and to follow any of you nicely.” Adam stated the words casually, as though he had a choice in the matter, keeping his hands up, though not quite as high as they once were. “Once Jurot’s done killing your guard, that’ll be the end of it, because you shouldn’t even try to push your luck. Look, if you were the Duchess, maybe you’d be able to get away with it, but I don’t want to hear any of it from the children of a Baron.”

Sir Landon blinked again. He knew that Adam was queer, he was a Half Elf after all, and it was about what he expected after adventuring with the Half Elf. “What are you daring to suggest?”

“I know how this is going to go,” Adam said. “Let me tell you, it’s not going to go the way you think it’s going to go. The Blackwater Kingdom, Aldland, is going to find itself in an awkward position. If you two want to be the reason that the Iyr decides to burn down East Port, be my guest, but I thought it would be best to at least warn you.”

“You dare to threaten our Littlesea family?” Sir Manon almost growled, though even he was full of confusion.

Adam backed away towards Sir Landon. “Sir Landon, please, you have to-,” Adam turned his head, noticing Sir Landon’s second guard drawing his blade. “Please, don’t embarrass yourself.”

The guard remained silent, having half drawn his blade. Adam side eyed the guard, glancing back to the original guard he beat, and then back to the second, unharmed guard. He let out a sigh and shook his head, as though he was berating a child.

“Sir Landon,” Adam began, his voice growing far more serious. “Allow me to offer you some advice. You should stop this before it goes too far. You know the Iyrmen and how they speak. Jurot didn’t actually say you should die, just that we will not break our word. If, Lord Sozain forbid it, somehow you pass away before the tournament, we will be free of our oaths. We would not prefer it, since we rather like you, Sir Landon. You’ve done right by us, and we’ll do right by you.”

“Jurot, is a guest I have brought into my estate,” Sir Landon said. “The Iyrmen did not learn our way of speaking, for they are not Aldish. We have an agreement, and they do not wish to break it. I see no reason why anyone needs to die.”

“We’ll allow the guards to deal with the matter,” Sir Manon said.

“Jurot, come over here,” Adam called, motioning with his head.

Jurot turned, and as he did, the knight stiffened. The Iyrman did not pause, walking back to Adam and the other Iyrmen.

“Stop,” Sir Manon demanded.

The knight stepped after Jurot, quickly grabbing his blade when he saw Adam step forward, donning his shield. Kitool and Jaygak also reached for their weapons, Kitool grabbing Tigerstaff, and Jaygak reaching for Stormdrake.

“Sir Landon,” Adam said, staring at Sir Manon. “We will discuss other matters another time, perhaps at the guild, since there are issues within the estate.”

“I will escort you out,” Sir Landon said.

“I should heal your knight,” Adam said, reaching into his pouch, pulling out a small vial, one of his many health potions. “May I?”

“You may.”

“My cousins will fight in the tournament for under eighteens,” Jurot said. “The same as Nobby.”

“Under eighteens?” Sir Landon said, falling into thought. “How many?”

“Five of them?” Adam said.

“I will sponsor Nobby, and those that are of the Rot and...” Sir Landon looked to Kitool. “Your family.”

“Not the Gaks, the Kans, or the Jins?” Adam asked.

Jaygak rolled her eyes, glancing aside as she rested her arm against her blade. She looked away from him, her eyes scanning along the horizon.

“It would be best to sponsor only one or two families,” Sir Landon said. “It is simpler.”

“I’d recommend sponsoring...” Adam cleared his throat, throwing a look to the Devilkin, before he bit his lower lip, chewing it gently. “Okay.” Adam cracked his neck. “Let’s say you officially sponsor the two Rots, Ools, Nobby and I. If the others come into any issues, I’d like you to assist them, the same as you’d assist us.”

“As long as all of you try to place in the top ten, top five if you can, I will extend my influence.”

“Perhaps it’s not my place to say, but allow me to state this, Sir Landon,” Adam began, keeping his voice neutral, and as polite as he could manage. “Jaygak here holds the same rank as Jurot and Kitool within the business. Their cousins are also trainees under the business, and the Enchanter holds them in high regard. I’m sure the Enchanter would appreciate it if you decided to assist them.”

Sir Landon met Adam’s eyes, noting the simmering anger, and the fact the Half Elf was holding back. “What rank do you hold within the business.”

“We’re the Chief Executive Officers,” Adam said. “Jurot’s mother is the President, and holds the highest position, alongside the Enchanter. Kitool and Jaygak, their parents hold the position of Directors, second to the President and Enchanter. We, are third in command, in charge of much of the business. We can bring back information for the President, and sometimes, the Enchanter, for them to make key decisions, like who not to do business with.”

Sir Landon nodded. “I will keep your words in mind, Adam.”

The group made their way out, Adam moving swiftly ahead to lead them back to the guild. He ignored the carriage, his hand gripping Wraith tight as he marched away, followed by his companions.

“Are you okay?” Jaygak asked.

“I should be asking you that.”

“You do not need to get so angry on my behalf,” Jaygak said.

Adam stopped, turning to face her. “If not for your behalf, then for behalf of the business, Jaygak.”

“Think about the gold, Adam,” Jaygak urged. “If you get mad at every Aldishmen for their views on Iyrmen, and certain types of Iyrmen, then you’ll have no one to do business with.”

“Gold is a means to an end, Jaygak,” Adam said. “There are plenty of people who want magical weapons. If we can’t do business in Aldland, then we can just do business in Aswadasad.”

Jaygak smiled, but sighed. “Okay, Adam.” ‘Even just by existing, I’m causing trouble. Is this how Adam feels?’ She eyed up the Half Elf as he continued to march away, exuding annoyance. ‘No, he’s not smart enough to think that.’ Jaygak smiled sadly.

Adam stopped. “I forgot my one hundred gold.”

The first son is still confused.