Under the Ashen Banner

Chapter One: The Name (Part 2)

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Within half an hour, Neil met privately with Sir Garrett in the guest cottage. Both sat in the pelt-covered chairs beside the hearth, under which a fire burned. The knight had pulled the curtains closed over every window. Neil could not decide whether this increased privacy reassured him or made him all the more nervous.

Sir Garrett squinted at him and asked, "What's your name, boy?"

"Master Davaa told you my name is Wretch."

Sir Garrett rolled his eyes. "Yes, I'm well aware of what that fool calls you. What is your real name? Do you remember it?"

Neil glanced at the door and the windows. While no one could see in, it occurred to him that anyone pressing their ear to the glass might be able to overhear. "It is forbidden for a slave to remember his real name, sir."

"But you do remember yours," said the gray-haired knight. "Don't you, boy?"

After a few more seconds of hesitation, he brought his voice low and answered, "Neil. My name is Neil."

"I see." The knight scratched the stubble on his chin. "Do you know what it means?"

"No, sir."

"One day you'll have to find out, won't you?"

Neil shrugged. It was all he could do just to remember it. Finding out what it meant seemed an impossible task.

"What's your earliest memory?" the knight prodded.

Such an odd question. People had come looking to buy Neil from Master Davaa before, but they never made conversation like this. They'd always ask him about how hard he worked or how healthy he was, before ultimately deciding to purchase a different thrall.

Neil did his best to provide an answer. "I remember... being cold. My mother held me close and wrapped us both in a blanket as the wind roared through a broken window."

Sir Garrett's eyes lit up at the mention of his mother. "What do you remember of her?"

"My mother?" Neil tilted his head to one side, puzzled at the knight's curiosity. "Just that she was kind and... well, she died shortly after that. I don't even remember her name or her face."

The old knight sighed and leaned back in his chair. "I see. Well, let's get on with business, then. Do you know what a free company is?"

Neil nodded. "A mercenary band. The emperor has forbidden any of the kings of Yesod, or any of their vassals, to have a standing army. Therefore, they are forced to raise money and hire free companies whenever they wish to go to war."

Sir Garrett smirked. "You're well-learned for a slave."

"Windbag was a scholar before he lost everything on gambling, and he loves to prattle on about all he knows. I'm just one of the few who listens."

"Who's Windbag? A fellow slave?"

"Aye," said Neil.

Sir Garrett clasped his hands together. "Well, it's good that you know. You see, I'm one of the commanders of the Ashen Banner."

Neil's heart raced at the sound of the name. The Ashen Banner was said to have slain the Dragon of Lothage, driven the Scarlet Horde back to the Dreadful Steppes, and held Castle Alderath through a forty-day siege. All this was only a small part of their wondrous deeds.

Sir Garrett continued, "We're looking for new recruits, and I think you're just the sort of young man we're looking for. Your master has agreed to sell you to me, but I know better than to buy a slave who's just going to run away the moment he sees an opportunity. So, my question to you, Neil, is this: do you long for adventure?"

"I... Umm... Well, I've never..."

"It's a simple question, boy," said Sir Garrett with a chuckle. "Do you want to be more than just a slave? Do you want to travel the world? Slay monsters? Save innocent people? Fight in glorious battles? This shouldn't be hard to answer!"

"Yes!" Neil said, a little louder than he intended. "That all sounds great, but..."

"But what?" the old knight prodded. "I'm offering you all of that and more. What could possibly give you pause? Is your master so kind to you that you do not wish to leave?"

"No, it's not that..."

"Then what?" Sir Garrett grunted and folded his arms.

"I... I don't want it to be just me."

"Pardon?"

"There are others here." Neil wrung his hands. "I don't know their real names, but Master Davaa calls them Garbage, Trash, and Cretin... They've always looked out for me. I can't just leave them here."

The old knight's arms unfolded and his face softened. "You have a sense of loyalty to your fellows?"

Neil nodded. "I do. I won't abandon them."

Sir Garrett sighed and scratched his temples. "Lad, you should know, I may be one of the leaders of the company, but I don't have free rein over the purse strings. I've only budgeted enough to buy one. You. No more."

"You told Master Davaa you could come in here and take all of them if you wanted."

The moment the words left Neil's lips he regretted them. Even before he saw the irritated look on the old knight's face.

"You have the right heart for this work, don't you?" said Sir Garrett. "Yes, I could come through here with enough soldiers to slaughter any who would resist us, but that's how a free company becomes a band of brigands, and people are a lot less keen to hire brigands. Look, I appreciate your loyalty to the others — it speaks well to your potential as a soldier — but I think you've more than earned the chance to be selfish. Leave with me tonight. Work for the company, save up your wages, and when you have enough you can come back here and buy the others' freedom yourself."

"How long will that take?"

The old knight furrowed his brow. "Explain what you mean, lad. Be precise."

Neil folded his arms. "How long will it take to earn enough money to buy Garbage, Trash, and Cretin?"

A smile, something almost resembling pride, tugged at the corners of Sir Garrett's lips. "That depends on you. If you prove yourself valuable, it will take less time. If you learn slowly or act like a coward it will take a lot longer."

"Even if I do well... will it be more than a year?" asked Neil.

"Probably," said Sir Garrett.

Neil shook his head. "Then, no. I don't want to go with you. Not without them."

The old knight leaned in closer to him, his face contorted in a furious scowl. Neil's pulse drummed at the sight of such a fearsome face. "What makes you think you have a choice?"

"You... you said you didn't want a slave who would just run away..."

The old knight spat at the ground in front of Neil. "Fine! Stay here, you ungrateful churl." Sir Garrett stomped out the front door, grumbling to himself the whole way.

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