"A piece of advice, boy," Lombard called over his shoulder. "Knights are not accustomed to being taken so lightly," he said. "When you see me in future, I will have you kneel."
"As you wish," Beam agreed. Lombard still mustn't have liked that agreement, for he gave Beam another sharp glance before he left.
"FUCKKK! I'M THROUGH WITH YOU KID!" Greeves roared as soon as he left, launching a chair towards Beam. The boy dodged it, a wry smile on his face.
"Woah! Calm down, boss!" Judas moved to hold him back.
"HOW CAN YOU KEEP ACTING LIKE THAT AROUND NOBILITY? ARE YOU TRYING TO GET US ALL KILLED?" Greeves roared, this time throwing an inkpot at him. Beam dodged that too.
By now, the merchant was already out of breath. His hands scrambled for more things to throw, but Judas hurried to take them off him, understanding that his outrage was just a temporary thing.
"Done?" Beam asked, raising his eyebrow.
The merchant sighed, falling back into his chair in a defeated slump. "I know you think that was funny – you think it was a nice little jab, but if that bastard was even a slight bit more prickly, he'd accuse the lot of us of making fun of him and we'd all be chopped up for it. Can you not show a bit more consideration?"
When he put it like that, realizing that he was involving other people in it, Beam grimaced a bit. Even if those two people were Judas and Greeves, he didn't want them getting dragged down for any slights that he might have caused.
Still, he was so used to acting casually around Dominus – a knight so far above Lombard in skill, that it was like comparing the sun to a candle – that showing a higher level of respect felt more like he was just lying to the man. It left an unpleasant feeling in him.
"Can't say I'm too surprised though, not like you've ever shown me the proper respect," Greeves muttered.
Which certainly did point a hole in Beam's defence – that he was merely used to acting casually around such a great power that no one compared, for he had not exactly been polite to Greeves either when they had first met, despite only having known Dominus for a short time then.
Briefly reflecting on that, Beam wondered if it might have just been an inherent flaw in his personality. Even as a slave, he had struggled to manage it. "You were once a slave, were you not, merchant?" Beam said.
Greeves shot him a confused look. "Aye, I said as much just the other day. So?"
"Then how can you bow properly to anyone? Does it not make you feel strange, pretending to show respect when you have none?" Beam said. "It was not as though our slave masters were so far above us that they deserved respect, was it?"
The merchant rubbed his eyes, as though it was too early in the morning for such arguments. "Right, right, fine. Whatever. I would agree, but then I would say that most people value their lives enough to grovel at least a little bit – and that fear soon transforms into something approaching genuine respect, but I suppose you just don't value your life.
Besides, do you not bow to that warrior you serve?"
"He's worth respecting," Beam said with a shrug. He took a brief glance at the stain the inkpot had left on the wall. "What did Lombard want, anyway?"
At Beam's prompting, the merchant was forced to think back to the conversation that he just had and a very visible weight returned to his shoulders. His face looked more strained than Beam had ever seen it. The man was so stiff with stress that he could not even bring himself to tap his fingers on the table as he usually might. "Hah… One of the soldiers got killed in the night. His throat slit.
They found him half naked behind his tent a few hours before dawn. They're blaming it on the girls – and me by extension."
"And did you do it?" Beam asked.
"OF COURSE I FUCKIN' DIDN'T!" Greeves exploded once more, slamming his fist down on the table.
Beam nodded in agreement. "I suppose it would be a pretty stupid thing to do, and so suddenly. With what happened yesterday – them hitting one of your workers – it would be obvious who they would blame."
"Wait… You believe me?" Greeves asked, his eyes wide in surprise. "I would have thought you'd be the first to condemn me and use the opportunity to get me executed."
"As I said, I just think it would be far too stupid a thing for you to do," Beam said. "The Captain seems to think so as well, otherwise I imagine he'd have arrested you. By the way, aren't nobility meant to have guards or something? Did he come and meet you himself?"
"Heh… So you think so as well," Greeves mused, his tension draining slightly. "But that doesn't stop the trouble that I'm in. He's using it as an excuse to drag me into things I want no part in. He wants me to organise the villagers so he can address them in the afternoon.
Then, he wants my help in keeping them in line… All that, just so I can stay my prison sentence a short while – says he'll decide what to do with me when the Yarmdon are defeated."
"What about the guards?" Beam asked.
Greeves looked genuinely annoyed by the question. "My head is on the chopping block, and you're fuckin' asking me about why he doesn't have guards? How am I meant to know?"
"Hmm…" Beam mused. "Do you have any more information for me? About Stephanie."
A long sigh escaped the merchant's lips. "Are you really just going to leave me to rot like that? I know we don't always see eye to eye, but I might have liked a little bit of sympathy."
"I'm not trying to get you executed either, though," Beam said with a grin. "It would be a waste to get rid of such an open-minded merchant."