Skif quickly turned his questions to other topics, mostly about life as a mercenary, which Bazie readily answered.

“‘Tis a life fer the young’n stupid, mostly, I’m thinkin’,” he admitted. “Leastwise, wuz wi’ Tedrels. Seems t’ me, if yer gonna fight, mebbe ye shouldn’ be fightin’ fer things summun else thinks is ’portant. But ‘twas lively. Did a mort’a travelin’, though ’twas mostly on shank’s mare. Got fed reg’lar. Seems t’ me that lot uv lads joined thinkin’ they wuz gonna get rich, an’ I knew thet wouldn’ ‘appen. Reg’lar merc, ’e don’ get rich, ’specially not Tedrels.”

“Why?” Skif wanted to know.

Bazie laughed. “‘Cause Tedrels wuzn’t Guild mercs, tha’s why! Tedrels, they sez, useta be in they own land, but got run out. So they took up fightin’ fer people, th’ whole lot uv ’em. By time I ‘id out wi’ em, Tedrels took wut nobuddy else would, cuz th’ fights they took’t weren’t real smart. Ain’t no Guild merc comp’ny wud fight ’gainst Valdemar! And ain’t no Guild comp’ny wud fight for Karse. They’s bunch uv fanatics, an’ they ain’t too good t’their own folk.” He pondered for a moment. “Ye know, I kinda wondered ‘f they figgered t’ use us up, so’s they wouldn’ hev t’ pay us. But I guess Cap’n wuz pretty desp’rate, so they took’t th’ job.” He shook his head. “I’druther be’n ’onest thief. I figger ’d t’ make m’self scarce when th’ coast wuz clear, on’y it niver wuz, an’ they allus ’ad an eye lookin’ fer deserters.”

“Huh. So how come they ain’t no problem gettin’ folks fer Guard, ’f goin’ t’ fight’s a dumb thing?” Skif wanted to know.

“Oh, th’ Guard, thet’s different,” Bazie acknowledged. “They’s got ‘onor. When they ain’t ’elpin’ beaks, they’s watchin’ Border, cleanin’ out bandits an’ slavers.” He shook his head. “Got no use fer bandits an’ slavers. Us, we on’y take frum people kin afford a bit took’t frum ’em. Tha’s rule, right?”

Skif nodded; he’d already been given that rule numerous times. Here in the poorer part of town, the only legitimate targets, by Bazie’s rules, were the people like Kalchan and Uncle Londer. Most thefts were out of the pockets and possessions of those who had the money to spare for luxury.

“Bandits an’ slavers, they’s hurtin’ people nor better orf than us’n,” Bazie declared. “So, bein’ in Guard’s ’onor’ble. An’ Valdemar Guard takes care uv their own, so’s not so daft t’ join op.”

This was getting altogether too confusing and complicated for Skif, and evidently Bazie saw from his expression that he was sorely puzzled.

“Don’ worry ‘bout it fer now,” he cautioned, “’Tis all complisticated, an’ real ‘ard t’ ’splain. ‘Ellfires, sometimes I cain’t figger it out.”

Skif pursed his lips, but decided that Bazie was probably right. There was just far too much in life that was altogether too complicated to try and work out. Like religion—if the Gods cared so much about people, why did they allow the Kalchans and the Londers—and worse—to go on doing what they did? Why wasn’t everybody fed and warm and happy? Why were there rich people who had piles more things than they needed, and people like him who didn’t have anything?