Chapter 82: Doing Things Right
Simon left Liepzen the next day after a little shopping to replenish his supplies and buy some good saddlebags to carry them in. By the time he left town and was riding toward Slany, he was almost two full weeks ahead of schedule compared to his last trip.
That was good, but it was overshadowed by the bad news that he had no idea whether his little amateur theater production had been successful. There was simply no way to say what that spoiled brat would do. Simon could only brood about it as he sat in the saddle and tried to imagine the consequences. He’d know in a month or two. He always did, but until then, there was no way to know if he’d made things worse or better.
When he reached the seat of Lord Corwin’s barony, he stayed at the inn as he usually did and spent the next couple of days buying men drinks and boasting about his exploits until he caught the attention of the Baron just as he’d done the first time. It was funny to Simon because the last time he’d been in this situation, he’d been trying to avoid gaining too much attention, and this time, he’d been actively seeking it out, but it hadn’t seemed to move the needle much. It was enough to make him wonder just how much causality really mattered and how much some things were up to fate.
He told some of the same stories as last time, though he toned out the ones that they’d found unbelievable before and focused on his mercenary work against the goblins and the centaurs. That was enough to get him invited to the Baron’s study, where the infestation of the silver mines was explained while he patiently pretended not to know any of that, and he was invited to purge them.
Somehow, this moment had seemed more interesting the first time Simon had lived it, but then, in his mind, it had been one of the first times that a total stranger had considered him a hero. Now, he’d had so many of these conversations that it was just another job.
Well, not just any other job. It was one of the most important escort quests the Pit had to offer as far as he was concerned, and he wasn’t going to fuck that up.
In fact, this time, he was harder on Gregor than before. As ungainly as Simon was at his current weight, at least he could still move in his leather armor, but he made his young apprentice struggle and squirm in his plate mail until even he agreed that it wasn’t suitable for the mines.
“Fine!” the young Viscount told him as Simon helped the young man switch his armor out for the leathers of one of the guards. “But if I’m not wearing my plate mail, I don’t see why I should wear anything at all.”
Simon smiled at that. He understood that mindset far too well at this point. But he didn’t lecture the boy. Instead, he simply said, “The mouth of a goblin is a dirty place. What wounds they leave usually get infected. Better they get a mouth of cow leather instead, just in case.”