"I've been thinking about what Lucien told us," Shion said, her attention fixed on the steady stream of officials passing through the entrance. "I don't think he ever expected us to refuse."
Eren looked at her. "Because he needed us?"
Shion shook her head. "Because he's fishing."
Eren frowned for a moment before understanding settled. "He said that himself."
"He did."
"He wants information."
Shion nodded. "The job matters. Whatever we happen to learn along the way matters more."
Eren shifted her weight to one leg, watching a pair of scribes hurry across the square carrying rolls of parchment. "He even offered to pay for it."
"Didn't even say how much he was offering."
"I suppose that makes it simple enough."
"It makes it a difficult decision."
Eren turned back toward her, and Shion finally looked away from the building.
"Since you're still getting used to this line of work, there's something you should keep in mind," Shion said, her voice calm. "A mercenary's reputation is worth more than a purse of gold. Skill earns you work. Reputation decides whether anyone offers it to you again."
Eren listened without interrupting.
"If a client gives you an objective, you complete it," Shion continued. "They trust you with information that isn't yours to share, you keep it to yourself. Even if the contract doesn't say so."
"I would've thought that was common sense."
"You'd be surprised." Shion folded her arms. "A few years ago, when I was still working alone, there was a mercenary who accepted a caravan escort. At the time, nobody thought much of it.. A week later, half the taverns in three towns knew who had hired him, where they were headed, and what they were carrying."
Eren grimaced. "That didn't end well."
"I never learned whether anyone robbed the caravan," Shion said with a shrug. "The Association found out he'd been talking."
"And?"
"They didn't expel him."
Eren blinked. "I thought they would."
"So did everyone else."
"What happened?"
"They simply stopped giving him good work. Whenever a contract with decent pay appeared, he'd try to take it."
"And?"
"He was always told someone else had accepted it."
"But nobody had?"
Shion nodded faintly. "I watched it happen once. He had the posting in his hand. The clerk smiled, apologized, and told him he'd been a few moments too late."
"That's cold."
"It was effective." Shion watched another messenger disappear into the building. "Within a few months, he was taking whatever jobs nobody else wanted. Clearing ditches. Escorting drunken merchants who couldn't pay much. Chasing stray livestock. The last I heard, he'd crossed to the Eastern Continent in search of better fortune."
Eren remained quiet for a time. "So the Association keeps track of things like that."
"It seems to."
"And you don't know why they didn't simply throw him out?"
"No." Shion thought about it. "If I had to guess..." She let the thought linger, then shook her head. "No. Better not to guess."
Eren smiled faintly. "I suppose the message was clear enough without an explanation."
"It usually is."
The distant sound of iron-rimmed wheels rolling over stone reached them before either woman noticed its source. A covered carriage turned into the square, drawn by a pair of bay horses whose harnesses had been polished until the brass fittings caught the morning light. The driver guided the team to a smooth halt near where the two mercenaries waited.
Lucien climbed down first. He brushed dust from one sleeve, spotted Shion and Eren, and greeted them with a smile as he crossed the remaining distance. "I'm pleased to see you both here."
"We accepted the contract," Shion replied simply.
"So you did." His smile widened just enough to betray his satisfaction. "I'll admit, after our conversation three days ago, I wasn't certain you would."
"You sounded fairly confident at the time," Eren observed.
"I've learned that hesitation and refusal are rarely the same thing."
Before either of them could answer, the doors of the nearby guard post opened. The captain emerged first, dressed for the road, his polished breastplate reflecting the daylight. The two guards assigned to accompany him followed, each carrying a spear and a travel pack.
The captain acknowledged Lucien with a nod before his eyes briefly settled on Shion and Eren. "So here they are, our additional escorts."
"They are," Lucien confirmed. "You've already met."
"We have."
Lucien glanced toward the carriage. "Our passenger is inside, so I'll keep this brief." He waited until everyone had gathered. "We're escorting Governor Halven to the city of Keleushila."
Neither Shion nor Eren interrupted.
"Keleushila lies north of Reka," Lucien continued. "Its governor has invited ours to attend an official gathering between the two administrations. These visits are routine, but they're important all the same. Formalities matter to governors almost as much as security."
A faint smile crossed the captain's face. "Sometimes more."
Lucien allowed himself a quiet chuckle. "Perhaps." His expression settled once again. "While we're there, remember that you're representing both the city itself and, in your case, the Association. Conduct yourselves accordingly."
No one objected. Satisfied, Lucien turned toward the waiting carriage. "Captain, you'll take the lead."
The captain mounted his horse in one practiced motion and guided it toward the front of the procession.
"The two of you," Lucien said, looking toward Shion and Eren, "I want one on each side of the carriage."
They acknowledged the instruction with a nod.
"The rear will be covered by the captain's men."
Within moments, the convoy was moving. The captain rode ahead, scanning the streets. Shion kept pace along the left side of the carriage while Eren matched her stride on the right. Behind them, the two guards maintained an even distance, their attention shifting between the road ahead and the streets they passed.
The procession crossed the western district at an easy pace. Shopkeepers paused in their work to watch the carriage pass, though most quickly returned to unloading wagons or arranging their wares once it had gone by. Children waiting outside a baker's shop stared until their mother hurried them toward the doorway.
The western gate stood open by the time they reached it. After exchanging a few words with the gate guards, the captain led the procession beyond the walls. The road stretched west before dividing. Without slowing, he guided his horse onto the northern branch, and the rest of the escort followed, leaving Reka behind as the city gave way once more to open countryside.