Leaves flew as Arturo's sword stopped, centimeters from the ground. He swung three more times and stopped. The blade was slightly thicker, heavier, and sharper than before. Ulrich had done an amazing job! Arturo couldn't wait to test the weapon in battle.

  Since his fight with Kyrad at Talin Grad, Arturo had focused on improving his skills. His strength and technique were better, but was it enough? Could he take Kyrad in a one-on-one fight and win? That was something he wouldn't know until that day arrived. If only the man would come out of hiding! Where was he?

  With Jen and Tarmon off to Vandalor, Arturo wouldn't have to wait much longer to have his army. There would be no more recruiting, and what was he going to do while waiting for the invaders? Eurisha had asked him what he would do once he finished gathering soldiers, and he didn't have an answer. The only thing he could do was offer his services to towns that needed help—whether it was against bandits or something else. The one thing he couldn't do was sit back and wait. He had money, but that would run dry eventually, and his army would grow restless.

  Shaking his head, Arturo hung his sword on his back and walked out of the training room. Only a couple of other people were in the room with him, and they were women with fancy-looking armor. From his brief glances, they looked like they knew how to fight. If he hadn't finished recruiting in Azzellia, he would have been tempted to ask them to join his army.

  He had barely walked out of the room when a strange man with a mustache approached him. “You are Arturo Pentori, are you not?”

  The way he spoke irritated Arturo, as if he were superior. “I am,” he said coldly.

  “Excellent,” the messenger straightened himself. “Lord Maloi would like to speak with you.”

  “Okay, he can—”

  “He's at Kape Drama, waiting for you.”

  Must really want to speak with me if he's waiting at my inn. Arturo thought. He had promised Maloi he would speak with him again, though a part of him wanted to say no. “Tell him I'll be there in an hour,” he said.

  “I shall relay the message.”

  The messenger turned his back and walked off. Arturo walked back into the training room. He needed to blow off some steam before meeting with Maloi. Perhaps my sister is right, and Maloi isn't this bad man I am making him out to be. he found himself thinking as he started to swing his sword.

  It amazed him how he went from being done training to getting fired up again all because of a stupid messenger.

  Arturo was a machine as he swung his sword over and over with no break. His father had liked Maloi, and he had as well. Would his father have spoken with Maloi if he had survived, or would he hold a grudge like him?

  A couple of lords entered the training grounds, and one tried to speak with Arturo, but he ignored him. Thankfully, the lord had better things to do than pick a fight and walked away. Arturo didn’t stop swinging his blade until his arms began to shake, and he found it difficult to stand straight while swinging his sword.

  He couldn't say how much time had passed. He eventually got to the point where he couldn't swing his sword anymore. Arturo leaned against a wall, gasping for air. Sweat was dripping down his face, and he could only imagine how he smelled. Yet he felt good. The workout had been needed, and now it was time to head back to Kape Drama and speak with Maloi.

  The cool air brushed his skin, bringing much relief to the sweaty Arturo. He saw a kid plug his nose when walking by and almost laughed. If Maloi got offended by his odor… Well, the lord would have to deal with it or leave him alone.

  When he arrived at the entrance of the inn, Arturo saw two guards standing outside. Even in his exhausted state, he was positive he could slay them with ease. Without saying a word, he walked into the inn and was glad the guards didn't question him. Then again, Maloi most likely told them not to question a large man with a big sword.

  Upon entering Kape Drama, he saw Maloi sitting in the corner, by himself sipping on wine. The lord smiled and waved Arturo over. There were other people in the inn, but he ignored them and walked to Maloi.

  “I'm glad you could make it,” Maloi said and waited for Arturo to take a seat. He picked up a cup and slid it to Arturo. “Fresh cup of wine for you.”

  Arturo took a sip and almost let out a groan as the sweetness tasted good. He forced himself not to gulp it all down and set the cup down. “You wanted to see me?”

  “I did,” Maloi said, never losing his cheery expression. “You know, your father and I worked quite well together in Arindall.”

  “I know, I was there,” Arturo said.

  If Maloi was annoyed, he hid it well. “You know a bit of our past but not all. Archard and I had plans, and if we had been given a few more months, our plan would have prevented the disaster that befell Arindall.”

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  “And what would that have been?”

  “I was getting to that,” Maloi took another sip of his wine. “We were going to work with nearby towns to create a unified defense, with a signal to send if an attack were to happen. Our guards would have quadrupled, and I am confident we could have forced the invaders away.”

  “The invaders were skilled and came with a decent force. I am not sure that would have been enough,” Arturo said.

  “I think you underestimate how many more soldiers we would have had.”

  “We'll never know, and telling me this won't change what happened to Arindall.”

  “You're right,” Maloi conceded with a slight bow of his head. “My point is that we worked well together. He thought of things I didn't, and I was able to help him get what he needed. I say this because I know you don't want to work with me. You think I have a secret motive, which your father thought as well when we first met. You don't even want to hear me out, and I want to know why.”

  To buy himself time, Arturo took another drink of wine. It was rare he got the opportunity to tell a lord why he didn't want to associate with him. Perhaps Maloi would take the hint, but he had a feeling he wouldn't. Maloi was different, at least that’s what his father and sister would tell him. Was it worthwhile to give him a chance even though he failed at protecting Arindall?

  After a moment, Arturo put down his drink and looked Maloi in the eyes. “Nobles are part of the problem. Doesn't matter what kind of noble, they are all the same. Only looking out for themselves and how to achieve power. I think you see an opportunity to strengthen your power, through me.”

  “If my goal was more power, then why did I try to help Arindall build its defense? What strength could I have gotten from doing this? Surely there are better avenues I could have explored if I was trying to raise my status.”

  The calmness of Maloi took Arturo off guard. Calm, calculated, and no anger in his tone. What was he playing at? “I never said nobles were stupid. You’re all crafty. I’m sure there was some motive that eludes me,” Arturo said.

  Maloi leaned back, trying to hide a faint smile that Arturo almost missed. “You're so much like your father.”

  “Flattery won't get you anywhere.”

  “I’m being serious,” Maloi said and poured more wine into his cup. “When I met Archard, he thought I had a hidden motive. You aren’t wrong, most nobles are crafty or use people for their own purposes. It took me almost a year to get your father to trust me.”

  “I do wonder how you tricked him.”

  “I saved his life at the battle of Rumatron.”

  “The what?”

  “Your father never told you?” Maloi said with a raised brow, then nodded to himself. “I suppose he never talked much about his time outside of Arindall to you, did he?” Maloi didn’t wait for an answer before continuing. “To put it simply, it was a dispute between Eshil Domain and one of the smaller nations, New Mareth. There was a small battle, and I saved your father’s life.”

  Arturo wanted to call Maloi a liar. He almost did but stopped himself. There was nothing in Maloi’s tone or face that made it out like a lie. In fact, he found himself believing the lord. His gut was telling him that Maloi was telling the truth, and that made him feel conflicted, for that meant he might be wrong about him.

  “I saw an archer raise his bow at your father, so I pushed him out of the way and the arrow pierced my right shoulder,” Maloi rolled up his sleeve, and there was a scar right where he said it was. “I didn’t want my friend to die, so I saved him.”

  “Let’s get to the point. What do you want?” Arturo said. He wished his father was alive so he could ask him about this. There was no lie in Maloi’s words, yet he wanted to know what his father would have said. There was no denying that Archard and Maloi got along great and Archard trusted Maloi with important matters. He would be lying to himself if he denied their friendship.

  “When I saw you spar with your brothers, I knew you would be a legend. I told Archard as much. Regardless, I know he would want me to help you, for you are his son. His last remaining one. Nobody else in this world will help you, but I will.”

  “You owe me nothing,” Arturo said.

  “You’re right,” Maloi said bluntly and took a sip of his drink. Arturo drained the last of his cup and put his empty cup down. “I’m not offering my help because I owe you or your father anything. I want to help because I can. My goal is to help as many people as possible. So, my motive for helping you? To help others, if that helps you at all.”

  How could Maloi help me? I already have all the soldiers I need, or soon will once Jen and Tarmon return. I don’t need him to get me work, for the people who want my help will be happy for any assistance. The only thing he could think of was money. His army was going to be over three hundred soldiers, and his savings wouldn’t be able to fund them forever.

  “All right, I could use some coin to help pay for supplies for my men,” Arturo said.

  “Then you shall have it.”

  There was no hesitation, which made Arturo suspicious. Maloi was a lord, and he was wealthy, yet to give him money without any question? That didn’t seem right.

  “I promise, there are no stipulations. You don’t have to pay me back nor give me anything,” Maloi continued.

  I doubt that, surely there’s something you are after. Arturo thought. “Well, thanks, I’m sure my men will appreciate it.”

  “Excellent,” Maloi got up as if everything was settled. “I’ll have someone give you the money shortly.”

  “Anything else?” Arturo said.

  “I would like to speak with you again, but I am sure you are still thinking I am after something. I’m not,” Maloi said.

  Arturo sat there, dumbfounded for a moment. That conversation did not go the way he expected. Whatever Maloi’s motives were, he was hiding them well. Or maybe he was being honest and had no request of him. Their next talk would tell him.

  “Very well, we’ll speak again,” Arturo said.

  With a slight nod, Arturo got up and left the inn. Walking always helped him think, and he analyzed the conversation he had, trying to find out anything that gave away Maloi’s plan. Replaying the conversation over and over gave him nothing. Not that he was surprised; politics and being crafty were never his strong suit. If Jen had been with him, he was sure she would have noticed something, assuming there was something to discover.

  He walked for some time and noticed a woman in armor stop in front of him. There was something about her expression that sent shivers down his spine. Without thinking, Arturo reached for his sword and grasped the handle.

  Something stung his neck, and he used his left hand to pluck out a dart. Poison! Arturo thought and tried to pull out his sword but fumbled. His knees slammed into the ground, and his hand slipped from the handle as his muscles turned to mush.

  He turned his head to see four more women in armor running towards him and another four on the other side. Arturo tried one last time to grab his sword. Instead, he collapsed to the ground, breathing in dirt as everything started to fade to black. Who were these women, and why did they poison him?

  Those were his last thoughts before he fell unconscious.