A single word was enough to grab hold of and change the song that played in the soldier’s heart. Something that would have remained unnoticed on any other day, Lesh just brought more attention to in his mind.

Is he bossing you around?

The question flashed like lightning in the man’s mind and disappeared just as quickly. But it was enough to get him thinking. If he suggested stabbing the guy in the gut he would dismiss it immediately as a ludicrous thought. He had to play his fears and let him do the work. Let him decide that stabbing is a great idea.

And the fears of a lord are so easily manipulated.

“I wished Bozmaroff didn’t die, we could’ve ransomed him for a lot of money.” - the burly soldier said, loudly chewing a piece of meat.

“Had he stayed alive you would still be serving him.” - the thin one replied.

“I would be the first to teach that boy what life is like when you’re not royalty.”

“Nah, I don’t think you would have. I think you would have escorted him to Rhana and celebrated the pat on the back he gives you. And a coin or two perhaps.”

“You speak as if you’re the cruelest man alive.”

“If cruelty wasn’t my thing you’d be eating the remains of that mold-covered cheese not meat.”

“There’s a really big difference between a dog and a royal, my friend.”

Does he think you’re weak?

Lesh played his melody again.

He looked at the skinny soldier, his jaw bones almost piercing his skin, his body so thin it hurt to watch. He was bound to have insecurities about his strength. A man like that feared he would appear weak and defensless. The burly man had none of those but he used the same twenty words to express himself. A walking example of what happens when you do too much labouring and too little reading. He’d had his fare share of mocking looks throughout his life.

They both danced to the music of their fears without even knowing it.

“That dog you’re so dismissive of would have chewed your leg off if I hadn’t stopped it.” - the thin one said.

“I didn’t ask you to help. I was taking out my knife when he ran after you. I would’ve slit his throat.”

“Ha, do you even know how to use a knife?”

A knife was the coward’s weapon. Small, concealable, used by women in the bed of a cruel man. The soldier’s last resort when the sword and the shield had failed him. At this point Lesh was orchestrating a symphony around them. Making the little fears in their mind grow to giant proportions. The insignificant thoughts they disregarded every day, he now grabbed and put in the center of their mind.

In any other day, they would have brushed it off and gone to bed a bit bitter. But Lesh rammed the little jabs they threw at each other and rammed them deep into the dark corners of their minds.

Why share the spoils with someone like him?

For a moment he thought he had failed, they both stood and chewed to the sound of crackling logs in the fire. Then the thin soldier started it all. Weak men never fight head on. When the big soldier’s teeth sunk into the juicy meat, the little one sprung from the ground, a knife flashing in his hand against the fire.