Volume One: The Forest Knight Chapter 52: Dog Eat Dog (Part Two)

Gu Huiyang watched the dazed Illya, his lips twitching slightly as he gave a mocking laugh. He coughed lightly twice, rousing Illya from his stupor.

Then he spoke: “Brother Illya, I don’t have much to offer you. In these two wooden chests, one holds five hundred dinars in silver coins, and the other contains some precious gems. Tonight, you can admire them together with these two beauties.

But it wouldn’t be wise to take these things back with you now—if Sir Berrion found out, he’d doubt your loyalty. So, after you return tomorrow, I’ll keep them safe for you. Once I formally surrender and move into Norland Castle, I’ll have them sent to you quietly.”

“Alright! No problem at all. Thank you so much, Chief Gu Huiyang. It’s really just a small favor, yet you’re giving me so much—it makes me feel rather embarrassed,” Illya replied, his tone now modest.

“Don’t be embarrassed; you deserve it,” Gu Huiyang said. He signaled to the two women, adding, “No need to wait for tonight. Let these two beauties show you the gems in the chests right now.”

No sooner had Gu Huiyang finished speaking than the two women pressed in close, their warm, fragrant bodies making Illya’s limbs instantly weak. One of them leaned in, whispering sweetly in his ear, “Lord Illya, why don’t you take us sisters to see them? We’ve never laid eyes on such fine gemstones before.”

The sultry words at his ear left Illya floating, his mind blank. He hastily bid Gu Huiyang farewell, and, with an arm around each woman, led them off to admire the gems.

After Illya had left, one of Gu Huiyang’s lieutenants snorted as he watched Illya’s departing figure. “Boss, is it really worth paying such a high price to win over a fool like him?”

“It didn’t cost much—just twenty dinars and a night of pleasure with the girls. What price is that?” Gu Huiyang replied with a laugh.

“But what about the silver and gems in those two chests?” The slow-witted lieutenant was puzzled by his leader’s intentions.

Gu Huiyang raised a hand and smacked him on the head, scolding with a laugh, “Are you a pig brain? What did I just say? I said I’d keep those things for him. After we exchange the captured lord for our brothers and the ransom, do you think I’ll really give them to him? He’ll be lucky if I don’t kill him.”

The lieutenant finally understood, clapping his hands and laughing. “Boss, you’re brilliant. You used two chests of unreachable treasure to have him running circles for us, happy to do our bidding. This is a masterstroke.”

“Alright, enough, you brat. Shut your mouth. How goes the contact with those two gangs I asked you to handle?” Gu Huiyang asked, still smiling.

Far from taking offense at the rebuke, the lieutenant seemed pleased. Grinning, he replied, “The chiefs of both gangs are already here—waiting for you in the side hall.”

Gu Huiyang nodded. “Good, well done. I’ll go see them now.”

After losing more than sixty men in the assault on the Gamji caravan, Gu Huiyang knew his current force wasn’t enough to control the situation outright. Although Illya’s behavior suggested the young lord of Norland Castle was a bit naïve, Gu Huiyang was wary; Berrion, after all, had wiped out the Blood Wolf Bandits and fought valiantly in the recapture of Maple Leaf Manor. Gu Huiyang suspected that Berrion’s easy agreement might be a trap, waiting to ambush him.

A veteran of countless battles in the Stagwood and surrounding lands, Gu Huiyang understood well that in the face of overwhelming strength, all schemes are useless.

He’d learned that Norland Castle had only thirty to fifty well-armed infantry, with the rest being recently recruited militia from among the refugees—hardly a real force.

By contrast, Gu Huiyang’s Hound Bandits still numbered nearly a hundred, more than half of whom were heavy infantry, equipped with layered leather armor reinforced with iron and fine weapons. These elite fighters were the fruit of years of effort and investment, and the reason the Hound Bandits were the largest group south of the Karl River. Gu Huiyang was confident his military might surpassed Norland Castle’s.

But if Berrion brought all his elite troops, Gu Huiyang knew he’d pay dearly to defeat them—perhaps shattering his own power in the process. Such a pyrrhic victory would leave the Hound Bandits crippled for years, and might even prompt the smaller gangs he’d long suppressed to unite against him.

After all, when a lion is wounded, even the hyenas that usually flee at its scent may seize the chance to devour it.

With this in mind, Gu Huiyang decided to enlist the two other moderately strong gangs on the south bank of the Karl River. He would let them shed blood and take the losses, reaping the rewards himself. Then, when the affair was done, he could annex their weakened remnants.

He used much the same approach on their leaders as he had with Illya—lavish gifts of money and alluring women, with the promise of generous rewards to come. The only difference was that the money this time was real, but Gu Huiyang cared little for a few thousand dinars and some gems, knowing he’d gain far more once he swallowed up the other gangs.

As expected, when the two chiefs saw the chests of silver and gems, their eyes lit up. Gu Huiyang’s honeyed bribes had them giddy, their heads turned by the prospect of wealth.

When four young, beautiful women entered, the two leaders became even more enthralled, barely hearing anything Gu Huiyang said. All they truly cared about was that each would bring at least thirty elite fighters, and each would receive a bounty of five thousand dinars after the battle. That was enough; the rest hardly concerned them.

Seeing the two chiefs so besotted, Gu Huiyang had no choice but to send them off to admire the gems with the women, just as he had with Illya.

The next day at noon, Gu Huiyang met with Illya, who had spent the night admiring gems with the two women. Illya looked thoroughly worn out, sporting dark circles under his eyes and stifling yawns.

Knowing anything he said now might be forgotten, Gu Huiyang simply marked the rendezvous point and time—three days hence, at dusk—on a sheepskin map, and had Illya deliver it to Berrion.

Gu Huiyang also prepared a gift for Berrion: a bearskin cloak, excellent for keeping out snow and cold in winter and quite valuable, since hunting a bear without damaging the pelt was a difficult task for only the most skilled hunters.

Such a cloak would fetch at least five hundred dinars in Amandine, and likely no less than six hundred in Yanveck, where the wealthy would pay even more.

Illya, exhausted and aching, returned to Norland Castle with the map and the cloak. After reporting the situation to Berrion, he hurried off to sleep, worn out by the previous night’s exertions and feeling his knees and back trembling with fatigue.

After Illya left the great hall, Berrion called for Baring, handed him the map, and had him make a copy. Baring then departed with the map to carry out the most critical part of the mission.

Thanks to clues from Larr and the returning Gamji, Berrion and Baring had determined the location of the Grizzly Bandits’ lair. Baring set out with a team, heading for the bandits’ stronghold.

This time, Baring would use the name of Billy—the captured Hound Bandit lieutenant—to enter the Grizzly Bandits’ hideout alone, while his companions waited nearby for support.

After parting from his team at the forest’s edge, Baring approached the Grizzly Bandits’ lair on horseback. As he reached a thicket, several bandits, armed with axes and hunting bows, burst from the brush and quickly surrounded him.

Three of them nocked arrows, aiming at Baring. One false move and they would have killed him on the spot.

Baring, unruffled, spoke up: “My name is Billy, from the Hound Bandits. I’m here to deliver a message from our chief—he wishes to invite your leader to join us in a big job, one that promises great fortune.”

The burly man in charge hesitated for a moment after hearing Baring’s claim. Then he shouted, “Throw all your weapons to the side and dismount quietly. I swear by the Fire God, do as you’re told and you'll live.”

Baring complied, tossing his sword and dagger to the ground and dismounting. Two bandits moved in—one collecting his weapons, the other taking his horse.

The leader then approached Baring, scrutinized him, and ordered his men to bind Baring’s hands and feet and cover his head with a sack before escorting him to their lair.

What they didn’t know was that five men, disguised as undergrowth, had watched the entire scene from nearby, and, once the group moved off, quietly followed them.

An hour later, they reached the mountain stronghold. When the sack was finally removed, Baring, his eyes unaccustomed to the sunlight after so long in darkness, needed a moment to recover.

The Grizzly Bandits’ lair was a mess—filth and mud everywhere, dogs chasing chickens and ducks through the rooms. The few women present looked dazed and empty-eyed, their heads bowed over their chores.

Most of the men lounged about bare-chested and unshaven, drinking and gambling in groups. When they saw the sentries bring in a captive, many eyed him with the same amusement as a butcher eyeing livestock.

The sentry chief went into the hall to report, soon returning to push Baring inside.

At the head of the hall sat a bald, heavyset man with a brutish face, unmistakably the leader of the Grizzly Bandits.

He sat on a stone throne draped with bear hide, and behind him, mounted on the wall, was the dried head of a bear, still snarling from the moment it was severed.

Anyone entering the hall and looking up at the bear’s head would shiver, as if encountering a wild beast in the forest.

That was exactly the effect Boyd, the Grizzly Bandits’ chief, wanted. He aimed to strike fear into anyone who met him for the first time, like a beast staring down its prey.

Once a person is seized by fear, they become easy to control, mere tools or slaves. Boyd had used this very terror to build his gang and establish himself on the south bank of the Karl River.

In his youth, Boyd was the illegitimate son of a knight’s squire. Raised in poverty by his mother and huntsman stepfather, he was blessed with great strength. At fifteen, he killed a rampaging brown bear in the forest with his bare hands, earning fame as a local hero.

But after crossing the local tax collector, his mother and stepfather were brutally murdered. In a fit of rage, Boyd slaughtered the taxman’s entire family—ten souls in all—and impaled their severed heads on stakes at the village entrance, children included.

Such savagery made him a wanted man. During his flight, he killed many more innocents and forced others to join him in banditry. Eventually, he found his way to Bellring Vale, where he finally settled.

Yet his cruelty only grew, and his followers became just as vicious. Along the Knight’s Road, dismembered corpses could be found every few weeks, the victims of their bloody handiwork. For this reason, everyone cursed the Grizzly Bandits, but few dared cross them.

Having followed Berrion to Norland Castle, Baring had long heard tales of the Grizzly Bandits and their chief’s atrocities, and had seen the results himself. Little wonder that, upon entering, he felt a shiver of fear.

He took a deep breath to steady himself, then spoke: “Chief Boyd, though our two groups have had some minor clashes, we both make our living by the same trade on this land, and hold no deep grudges. Treating a friend who comes bearing wealth in this fashion is hardly courteous.”

Boyd ignored him, but one of the Grizzly Bandit lieutenants, drinking nearby, barked, “Pig-brained whelp! We all live by the sword—what talk of courtesy? You Hounds think your bigger numbers and wider territory make you lords? Spouting such nonsense, do you take yourselves for true knights?”