Chapter 53 - The Cost of Redemption
Duarte slipped away from the Nuri camp, each step deliberate, each breath measured. The cool night air did little to calm the storm raging within him. He could still hear the distant crackling of torches, the quiet murmur of soldiers preparing for the next battle. But his path was set. A lot of people were counting on him. He couldn’t let the mercenaries succeed—even if it cost him his life.
King Lusweti had given him a second chance, a chance he never believed he deserved. He had been a slaver, a murderer, a man without a soul. And yet, here was Nuri, a kingdom where men and women fought side by side, where people weren’t measured by their past but by their will to fight for something greater than themselves. The sight of women taking up arms, of soldiers battling not for coin but for love and honor, was something unheard of in the world he once knew.
"If I survive this," he murmured, fists clenched, "I will dedicate my life to this kingdom."
As he reached the rendezvous point, the mercenaries were already waiting—rowdy, unruly, and stinking of sweat and blood. The air reeked of unwashed bodies, spilt alcohol, and the metallic tang of old blood. He recognized their faces. Men he once fought beside. Men who had laughed as villages burned. He forced himself to remain still as they turned toward him, their grins twisted and predatory.
"Finally, our inside man makes an appearance," one of them sneered, his voice thick with amusement. His teeth were yellowed, his breath rancid as he leaned in closer.
"I’ve done my part and infiltrated the army. What orders does Almeida have for me?" Duarte said, keeping his tone indifferent, almost robotic.
The mercenary scoffed. "Oh, no need to worry about that. We’re nearly done here. All you need to do is tell us where the king of those savages is. We kill him, and the army crumbles."
Duarte tilted his head slightly. "Is that really it? I doubt they’d fall apart just because their king is dead."
The mercenaries laughed, a cruel, guttural sound. "Of course they will. These people are dogs—take away their master, and they scatter. Besides, we need to get back to the coast. Almeida is almost finished. By the time we’re done here, we’ll be rich beyond measure."