Armand's collar itched. He pulled it away from the skin on his neck in an attempt to let some air in. He'd always hated ceremony, and this was no exception. He glanced over at Jonah. He had his hand on his sword handle. He nodded at Armand a little and jerked his neck up the sandstone stairs to where the mayor sat.

"Did you finish your assignment, Jonah?" the mayor asked. He was young, for someone in such a high position. He was dressed head to toe in linens nice enough that Armand doubted he ever went for a roll outside. Jonah started walking forward and Armand joined him, followed by Darius and Oliver and Itah.

Armand glanced around the vestibule. The ceilings rose so tall overhead that he felt dwarfed standing underneath them. A soft, purple glow came from crystals inlaid in regular intervals on the wall--Armand was pretty sure there was just fire inside, but it seemed magical as it sparkled. He felt inadequately dressed in his plain white clothes. The paint across his breastplate was peeling and flaking. 

Itah's watery blue eyes appraised the situation as he stroked his scruffy yellow beard. He put a hand on Armand's shoulder and steered him to a stop next to Oliver, who already seemed to know where to stand. Armand looked over at Oliver and he raised his eyebrows as if he didn't know what to do, either.

The mayor's blue eyes surveyed them all with a warmth that Armand couldn't help but find trustworthy, even though the rest of the people in the room made him feel like he'd swallowed a hunk of ice. Two men dressed in fine steel plate flanked the mayor on either side, faces set hard as stone, eyeing the sellswords as if they worried Armand might attack at any moment.

"Darius," the mayor said as they stood in front of him. "I haven't seen you in a long while. How are you finding life outside my entourage?"

"Fine, Seltus," Darius said flatly. He stared the mayor down and for a moment there was an electricity in the air like they were two wild animals locked in battle. Darius looked away and as soon as he did, it was gone. The mayor glanced at him, warm blue eyes washing over Armand like a cloud. He didn't blink.

"You are new," he said. 

"Yes," Armand replied, not daring to look away. The warmth was gone, replaced by something appraising and uncomfortable. He shuddered.

"Jonah, take care of this boy," he said, and he looked back at Jonah from where he was seated. Armand heaved a sigh of relief. Jonah nodded and held his hand out. Seltus dropped a bag into it that jingled with the weight of ingots. Jonah tucked it into his bag and turned to go.

"Jonah, wait, I have something to discuss with you," he said as he gazed over the other four. "Alone. Come." He stood and started walking toward one of the back chambers. Armand looked around as if questioning what to do.

"Outside," Darius mumbled, and he started down the wide vestibule to outside. Itah and Oliver followed and Armand fell into step with them as they swung open the heavy wooden door. It creaked shut again behind them and Darius pulled a piece of chewing tobacco out of his pocket. He stuffed it in his mouth and started gnawing.

"What do you think that was about?" Oliver asked. His voice was high pitched enough that it only served to make him look even younger than fifteen. Darius shook his head.

"I don't know, but I don't like that man," he said as he spat onto the dusty ground. "Never have." They waited in silence for a few moments until the door creaked open again and Jonah tumbled out and onto the street.

"What was that?" Armand asked, eyes all suspicion. Now that he'd met Seltus in person, he'd gotten an entirely different picture of the job they'd just been paid for. It was simple enough, chase the drunks off city property, use force if you have to. Armand was glad he didn't have to. Most of them moved right away as soon as he mentioned Seltus' name.

The way his eyes changed so instantly from warmth to cold to back again reminded Armand too much of Aegan. The way he'd stared Armand down with no provocation, as if he was a worm ripe to be stepped on, and the way electricity danced in the air when he and Darius locked eyes. He wondered if the problem was really that they were on city property, or if Seltus just didn't like drunks.

"Seltus has enemies in high places," Jonah replied. "I know he might not seem like much but I've known him for many years. He's a good man."

Darius snorted and spat on the ground again, hands twitching in a way that made Armand feel like he might grab his sword at any moment.

"A dangerous man," he replied.

"Hush, Darius." Jonah looked back toward Armand. "He's right. Seltus is a dangerous man. But also a good man. He wants us to bring some people in for questioning. Not now, in a few weeks, when they're less suspicious. They've been on the move lately and Seltus suspects they know he's up to something."

"Like talking behind his back," Darius muttered. 

Armand knew better than to ask who the people were. Jonah never answered him when he asked, and what little information Darius and Itah had was usually next to useless. Oliver probably didn't know any more than he did. In certain ways Armand envied him. His green eyes were the picture of innocence, like he'd never lost or hurt, and he asked a lot of stupid questions. He hadn't grown into his armor yet, or his voice, for that matter, but that meant that the other three left him out of the worst of it. Armand got no such luxury.

They left the open brick streets around the city center building and ducked down one of the side alleyways, where the air grew dank and smelled of rot. Darius swung open a side door and ushered them all inside. The smell of stale beer assaulted Armand's nose as he breathed deep. 

The room was tiny and dark inside, and nearly empty except for the five of them crowding the owner, who busied himself behind a counter.

"Ah, Jonah," the owner exclaimed as he clapped the man on the back and the four of them took seats at the countertop. The air was stiflingly warm and Armand wanted nothing more than to rip his breastplate off. The man began filling wooden tumblers with something hard and strong. He placed one down in front of each of them. The smell reached Armand's nose and made him want to retch.

"No, thanks," Armand said, and he pushed it back toward him. 

"I don't know why you don't relax and let yourself have a little," Itah asked as he sipped at his ale. The hairs on the back of Armand's neck bristled and his stomach turned as he remembered the last time. How dizzy he'd gotten, how bad ideas had crowded out the good ones until he couldn't see sense anymore. The argument with Griffon that still echoed in his head.

If anything, he would not become his brother.

"I'm fine," Armand insisted. He'd get ale, or a drink of water from the well, when he was able. Those things wouldn't make his head swim and his mind burn with memories he'd rather not remember. The other four drank from their cups without complaint. Even oliver polished his off and held his glass out without a word. 

He wanted more information. Something, anything to take his mind off the burning that had started to grow there even though he wanted no part in it. The barkeep placed a tumbler of ale in front of him and Armand nodded in thanks and took a sip. It was weak, really just water without the poison that too often grew on the surface of the river. He took a long drag.

Soon the bar grew boisterous as Jonah regaled them with tales of the ocean and sailing and battle. Armand doubted even half of them were true. The ocean always hit him with such a violent spray across the cliff faces that he doubted anyone could survive crossing it. It had terrified him, the first time he saw it, all angry foam and giant waves. But somehow, some way, Jonah claimed to tame and navigate it. Armand couldn't imagine any such thing.

The space grew confined around them and sweat broke out around Armand's face as he waited for some sign, any sign, that would tell him it was time to leave. By the time they did his skin itched and the cloth under his breastplate felt damp.

They crawled back to their tiny apartment, Armand guiding the whole way since the other four could barely stand. He ripped the breastplate off as soon as they got in the door. It didn't really fit him anymore, anyway. His shoulders had gotten too broad for it, and his back too tall, but he couldn't afford another one with the meager share Jonah gave them of their wages.

He waited for the other four to settle and threw his overcloak on. The cold night air stung as he stepped outside and it seeped into the patches of his shirt that were still damp. The tense air hissed out of his lungs as he left it and the howling emanating from the crack in the wall of their apartment behind.

He doubted he'd sleep much. He never did, and it never seemed to bother him. He liked it when his only company was the chill night air and whatever animals happened to be about in the streets at night. Here it was only him and his thoughts. Cleansing, like a warm day's rest in the river.

 But the idea of Seltus' bargain weighed heavy on his mind. Like Aegan. Everything about the man reminded Armand of Aegan. Armand shuddered. He didn't envy whoever it was they were to be accosting.