Rise In Calradia

Jerburg’s prison guards have never been a good job. There will always be captured thieves, thieves, and robbers sent here, and there will always be their accomplices coming to rob the prison. The guards of the prison not only have to send water and food to these pesky scumbags every day, but also endure their endless swearing and verbal abuse, and they have to fight wits and courage with those who have bad intentions. The only time they can vent their anger is to watch the torture officer torture these guys. It's a pleasure to see them ripped apart. Unfortunately, they rarely do it themselves.

"What did the newcomer say?"

At the gate of the prison, the guard captain fiddling with his fingers, wearily asked the guard who had just walked out of the prison.

"The little thief kept clamoring that he didn't steal the horse, saying that he just drank too much and touched the horse a few times, just like the other bastards."

The bearded guard took off his helmet, took the water bottle from the table, and raised his neck for a free drink. The captain didn't need to ask to know that the new prisoner must be a eloquent person, or the kind of guy who didn't admit his account, that would make him waste so much saliva.

"It doesn't matter, no matter how good his tongue is? He hasn't been caught upright. There is nothing on him that can "redempt his body" for him, and no one is willing to pay to bail him. Now we just have to wait for the interrogator. When he comes back, he will ask for something from this guy's mouth, and then we just have to watch it by the side."

Having said this, both of them laughed.

They have been jailers for many years. What kind of slippery heads have not been seen? Wanting to play tricks with him is purely asking for trouble. Jelborg’s prison is not a place where you can just squat into the prison for a while. Whether you are a robber or a thief, don’t even think about going out without taking you out of your skin!

At this moment, they are discussing how to clean up the newly arrested prisoners just like a butcher discussing slaughtering pigs and sheep. They talked happily, and the distribution of every copper must be discussed clearly. It seems that sitting here is not a soldier guarding the prison, but two vendors in the market.

"Why, there is business again?"

Just when they were chatting up and down, Egilsson and Byron walked over slowly and greeted them.

"Old Egilsson? It's really strange, why did you come here? What does this guy do?" Seeing Egilsson coming with an unknown person, the two guards asked suspiciously.

"I can't open the pot anymore. I found a sale for a knife. This is Captain Monet Herbart. Yesterday there was an eye-opener who wanted to steal his horse. He wanted to meet that thief." Ekielson introduced.

"I haven't heard your name, but you do look like a captain." The captain of the guard looked at Monet, envious of his exquisite chain armor and cotton robe made of silk and satin.

"I don't know why you are interested in the person who stole your horse, but since it was introduced by Egilsson, it's okay, but you can't bring your weapon in."

The captain of the guard agreed to Byron on the face of Egilsson, but he pointed to the warhammer on Byron's waist (the mace is often used in the Swadian cavalry, and it is easy to be suspicious) and the sword. He handed over the weapon.

"Of course, take it, but be careful, I just polished it."

Byron happily handed over the weapon. He didn't worry about his safety. Even if someone really attacked him, he hid a sharp dagger between his robe and chain armor to protect himself.

Although Egilsson was poor, his experience made him very influential in the local area, so the guards did not search his body, but took him in directly. After all, the owner of the horse robbed the prison to save the thief who stole the horse. They had never heard of such a thing.

Just like other prisons, it is dark and dirty, with many fleas. The prison guard took Byron to the door of a narrow room and knocked on the iron railing:

"Hey, someone has come to see you."

The man lying on the floor sprang up suddenly, seeming to be puzzled by someone wanting to see him.

"Who? Who wants to see me, a poor man?"

The man walked into the iron railing, and Monet looked at him. The man was of medium height, with hair hanging down to his neck in a mess, a face full of beard, and the vicissitudes of hatred on his face did not match his age. He looked like a business traveler. It will only be honed in various places. But judging from the contours of his arms and the distribution of calluses on his palms, what he used to hold the most was definitely not a **** and a stick, but a weapon such as a sword.

They were close enough that even if the light was poor here, Byron could see every detail of him.

"I'm the owner of the horse you stole, Mercenary Captain Herbart. I want to see who actually dared to beat my horse." Byron said flatly.

"Are you the owner of that horse? Oh, my goodness, please listen to me, it's definitely a misunderstanding. I drank too much that day, and I took your horse as my horse. I mean , I had a good horse before. Its coat color and body shape are very similar to yours, but unfortunately I sold it without money. I admitted it was wrong after being drunk."

The man said almost beggingly:

"All right, sir, please explain to them and drop the accusation against me! I will compensate you..."

Before he could finish speaking, the iron rod in the jailer's hand slammed on the railing arbitrarily, scaring the man back several steps.

"Don't listen to him, captain mercenary. When this thief stole your horse, he was stolen and received. Everyone saw it. And he couldn't repay you. He clinked poorly, except for one that was paid off. He couldn't even get a dinar out of his old horse!" The prison guard glanced at the prisoner with disdain. "Unless someone pays him bail, he can only stay here for the next six months."

"Yeah, what you said makes sense. I do have money, but why should I pay him bail? I'm a mercenary, and he can't help me."

Byron said loudly on purpose, and glanced at the prisoner. The other party immediately understood Byron's meaning, and moved to the railing when Byron was about to lift his foot away.

"Sir. I mean the captain, why don't you hire me? People say that I use swords well, and I have been in contact with mercenaries. You will use me."

Byron heard this and stopped. He knew that the other party was very active, so he returned to his previous position and continued to ask:

"You raised my interest, but there are a lot of people in my team now, and they all use axes well. Do you have any other skills?"

The man thought for a while, and then said, "I still look at horses. I know how to distinguish good horses... well, you don’t need it. Your vision is not worse than mine. By the way, I used to leave when I was seeking a living. I have traveled to most of Calradia. I know the roads that even the merchants and officials have never visited. I also know which road is the safest to walk on and which road is closest to the destination. With me, you can even pay for maps. Save it, not to mention that most of those maps are horrible!"

When he finished speaking, Byron deliberately made a hesitant look, holding his chin in a thinking state.

"I do need a guide, but how do you guarantee that you will not betray me?"

"I can swear! I swear by my life! If you pay the bail for me, I will be your loyal servant. Give me a bite of food and I will take you across the continent!" He said anxiously.

Byron showed a smile that is not easily detectable by ordinary people, and then looked reluctantly at the prison guard with a surprised face.

"I do need a guide..."

"Then you believe him so? If it's me, his vows or whatever he says, I will treat it as farting!" the prison guard wrinkled without saying.

"But there are some things that I have to try. How can I have multiple staff, no harm. How much is his bail?"

The prison guard still didn't understand why an old mercenary like Byron believed this man so credulously, but after hearing the word bail, he still beamed his eyes and forced a smile on his face.

"Let's go, I'll take you to see our captain." He said as he walked.

"50 dinars? Does the horse thief's bail cost so much? It's enough to buy a carriage and two horses."

"We don't know if there are other accomplices behind him, this is a big risk, but I will use my life to gamble."

"How about 25 dinars? Man, I'll make a bargain for our captain. You just opened a big mouth~www.readwn.com~ For your face, 40 dinars, one price."

"Okay, but his equipment and salutes are to be counted. I will buy another if I save it."

"I will think about it."

........

After a while, a pocket of silver coins was handed over to the guard captain, and the guard also took the silver coins and went to the ground, took out the key and opened the cell door, releasing the prisoners inside.

"Thank God, I finally came out. May God bless you, Captain." After the prisoner came out, he shut the door heavily before the jailer, and then expressed his gratitude to Byron.

"The cost of saving you is not cheap, I hope you abide by the agreement. By the way, how do you call it?" Byron handed him the salute and equipment, and asked by the way.

"Polcha, Captain, you can call me that." He replied happily.

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