From Knight to King

This winter in the Principality of Brick was exceptionally cold. Even today, though the wind was not fierce, the snowflakes that struck one’s face stung sharply. A tall, thin young man with brown hair, dressed as a hunter, entered a cave carrying a bundle of firewood in his arms. He threw the firewood down beside the hearth and hurried to warm himself by the fire. He shouted at his three companions seated around the flames, “Damn, I’m freezing to death! You bastards, if more wood is needed, you go chop it. I’m not going out again.”

The scarred middle-aged man to his left passed him a flask of liquor. “Shut your mouth. It was just a bundle of firewood. If you were still in the city defense camp, you’d be left to freeze at the city gate all day.”

“Sure, frozen all day, but at least you got paid. In the evenings, you could take your coin purse to Flea Street and find a plump girl to sleep with. That was the life!” Compared to their current predicament, he missed his days in the defense camp.

At the mention of money and women, the other three fell silent. After a while, the man in the wolfskin cloak, his right hand wrapped in bandages, spoke, “I know hiding out in this cave is tough, brothers, but I can promise you, in no more than twenty days, we’ll have our ransom. After that, we’ll head to Orian or Valendi. With the money we’ve robbed these last couple of years, we can buy four squire titles and a few small farms from a lord. Then we’ll be lords ourselves, eating and drinking well every day.”

The others’ eyes sparkled at this vision, and the hardsh