“Where did you go?” Amaryllis asked, seizing on the first decent question that popped into her mind. “When you left.”

Sir Vincent gave her a surprised look. His body went even more rigid before a soft sigh escaped his lips. That small breath took the tension with it and he relaxed.

“Not too far at first,” he answered after taking a moment to think. “I snuck onto a wagon leaving town. They caught me at the first stop a few hours later. I convinced them to let me stay on as an errand boy. That’s how I joined the Obsidian Minotaur Mercenaries.”

“I’ve never heard of them.”

Amaryllis frowned. Mercenary groups were not nearly as famous as knightly orders, but a few had managed to make names for themselves. Enough that she had heard of them too.

The Red Diamonds had a reputation for slaying large monsters. They would get covered in blood in the process, but always turned a nice profit between the commission and monster parts. Hence their name. The Azure Titans were the best for hiring experienced fighters in territory wars. Often determining the victors based on who had enough money to commission them. There were a few others that she knew were favored for escorts jobs or espionage. Their names escaped her, although she was certain none were the group Sir Vincent had just mentioned.

“They’re just one among many mercenary groups. They’re pretty much all the same at that level,” he shrugged. "I traveled around Tesslands with them, then into Valeth and Marso. Wherever the commissions took us really. I learned about hunting monsters and fighting from them.”

“How long were you a mercenary?”

“Around five years,” he plucked a small branch from the ground, and started to carefully peel off the bark with his fingernail.

“It must have been hard.”

Amaryllis recalled how terrifying the salamander that had attacked her had been. From what she’d managed to figure out from books in the library that monster had only been a juvenile. She shuddered to think what would have happened had it been fully grown.

“It was, but it got easier when I got bigger” he shrugged. “Hit a growth spurt within a year or so.”

Amaryllis shot him a dubious look. While he was a few years older than her, he had only been a boy when he’d left. A growth spurt hardly seemed enough to counter how ferocious and deadly monsters were.

Although . . . she studied him with a critical eye. Without his plate armor on he was still a powerfully built man. Some knights looked rather slim and lithe without that bulky metal, but Sir Vincent looked to be nearly as large as he’d been with it. Nearly a decade of combined work as a mercenary and then a knight had clearly made him strong. Perhaps if that growth had started quickly that could explain how he’d survived such a dangerous life.

“Can you . . . tell me more?” Amaryllis asked tentatively. She watched his face carefully, but the earlier tension didn’t return so she continued. “About where you went and what you saw. I’ve read about many places, but I’ve never been allowed outside the estate.”

“The duke did say you’re rather frail,” she saw him frown as he studied her with narrowed eyes. “Maybe you should head back inside.”

“I’m not that frail,” she grumbled, silently cursing the excuse her father used to keep her locked away at his estate. She kicked a rock, and gave Sir Vincent a pleading look. “What did you do with the mercenaries? I’ve never heard of them working with children.”

He hesitated for a moment, obviously trying to gauge if she could endure staying out in the night air. The evening was cool, but not cold. Her cotton cloak was more than enough to keep her comfortable. Certainly not a night to be worried over.

The furrow between his brows faded, and a softened expression took its place for a moment. Not long enough for her to figure out what it meant, but enough for her to notice. His face resumed a neutral expression before he answered her question.

“They don’t usually,” Sir Vincent sighed. “Don’t want the bother, but I was already there, and proved myself useful.”

He paused and shook his head, a slight frown tugging at his lips.

“I thought you wanted to know where I went. That’ll be more interesting than merc life.”

Amaryllis quickly nodded and smiled. In truth, she didn’t care which questioned he answered. Rather she wanted to spend more time with him. Anything he said help to fill that time was more than enough.

He fiddled with the stick, peeling off more of the bark so that it was nearly bare while he thought. He had a bit of a perplexed look on his face. His lips were slightly pulled to one side, his eyebrows were titled down towards his nose, and faint worry lines had taken shape on his forehead. Finally, he came to a decision and relaxed once more.

“Have you ever heard of a glacier?”

“I’ve seen it mentioned a few times in books, but they didn’t say much.”

“In the north its cold. Much colder than it gets to be here. After a few hours it seeps into your bones so you feel stiff and awkward. No amount of furs keep it out. Hell, sometimes clothes freeze up too. I once saw a man spit, and it froze before it hit the ground. Shattered like glass. That’s how cold it has to be for there to be a glacier.”

“I can’t even imagine,” Amaryllis murmured.

She’d felt cold, but never to the magnitude of what he was describing. He was right that the duchy winters were relatively mild. Snow was rare. When it fell it usually melted once the sun came out. A night without a fire would be uncomfortable, but not necessarily life threatening.

“Glaciers are pretty much giant mountains of ice,” he gestured towards the main building with the stick that had now been stripped bare. “They can be as tall as your father’s castle, or as wide as the grounds behind the castle walls. Bigger really. They’re massive and if there’s no landmarks nearby it’s almost impossible to judge distances. Some feel like they go on forever.”

Amaryllis eyes went wide as she tried to picture the castle grounds covered in ice, but failed miserably. It was simply too grand to imagine.

“They’re not perfectly smooth mind you. Not like the little cubes nobles like in their fancy drinks,” he snorted and then flinched, realizing that he’d just mocked nobles in front of one.

She gave him what she hoped was a reassuring smile. The comparison was a helpful one if nothing else. He cleared his throat awkwardly before continuing, his tone becoming stiff once more.

“Glaciers have ridges and crevices and caves. Some are obvious, some hidden. In summer when its warmest they melt a little. Just enough to form new fissures. They change every year too so there’s no reliable maps. You have to stay on your toes every time.”

“Are there a lot of monsters?” Amaryllis asked.

Glaciers sounded like rough terrain. If they were as large as Sir Vincent was saying, that meant any number of creatures could hide there. She was only vaguely familiar with the monsters in her father’s territory, and the more famous ones like hydras and dragons. But monsters were rampant throughout the continent. There had to be some that could thrive in that type of cold.

“Not really. Some small scavengers that look like rabbits with horns, but they’re just an annoyance,” he rubbed his chin. “There are a few bigger ones. Hardier species of ogres and gorgons, along with a type of drake I’ve only ever seen up north. They’ve got these deep blue scales, prettier than a sapphire.”

Amaryllis’s eyes went wide at the idea of a monster being pretty. Depending on which faction of the church one aligned with, that thought could be considered blasphemy and even lead to a heresy trial. All monsters were capable of killing people if given the opportunity, and most tried without provocation. Such creatures held no beauty.

She recalled the salamander. It had been horrifying. The beetle like green hue of its skin had certainly been dazzling, but its massive teeth and the feathers of flame flickering out from its gills dominated her memories of that day.

“Their leather keeps in warmth better than most anything else,” he chuckled softly at her reaction. “It’s durable too. Hides from those drakes sell for quite a lot to the knights and mercenaries in the north. The off cuts get made into gloves, belts, shoes, and hair pieces. It’s considered very fashionable.”

“If you say so,” Amaryllis frowned.

Monsters were hard to kill, but their bodies were abundantly useful. Their skin, fur, and scales were all tougher to cut through than any of the animals they bore a resemblance to. That caused protective gear made from them to be superior as well. There were few species where the bodies had no uses.

Mercenaries typically used the hides of monsters they’d personally cut down for their armor. It was both practical and a badge of honor to show their skills. The bones and cores from the larger ones were popular with mages since they were used to create magical devices.

The church looked down on selling monster parts for profit. All aspects of monsters were an affront to God after all. In their eyes hunting monsters for money, not to slay God’s enemies, was a sacrilegious act. Few nobles were willing to openly go against the church so most scorned mercenaries as well.

However, the practicalities of defensive items, as well as the large sums of money one could earn, were too much to simply destroy their carcasses. Most landed nobles had at least one leatherworker skilled with monster hides native to their region. Along with a few mage contacts to discretely buy bones and cores.

But to use pieces of monsters for fashion? The very idea was repulsive. No wonder the north had a reputation for being barbaric. She’d always dismissed those rumors. Wearing animal hides to stay warm in a cold area had seemed sensible, not uncivilized. Monsters leather simply because it was pretty though? The very thought gave her gooseflesh.

She was already dangerously close to heresy because of her magical affinity. To openly flaunt such a heretical act was baffling. And weren’t the kingdoms in the north ardent followers of the traditional church? She shook her head to banish the unsettling thoughts.

Sir Vincent tapped the stick on the log to reclaim her attention. He had an amused smile on his face as he watched her puzzle over his words.

“I think it’s actually the snow,” he continued as if he hadn’t just said something absurd. “Not the glaciers, that’s prettiest in the north. When there’s a good layer over everything it sparkles like diamonds. The glare can be blinding too if you’re not careful.”

“I can imagine,” Amaryllis nodded.

She felt a bit of relief at the change in topic and the fact that not everything in his story was completely foreign to her. She recalled the glare of sunlight reflecting off a window or the small pond in the meadow at the back of the estate. She’d winced more than once when the bright flash had caught her in the eye.

“We had to be careful of monsters on those days,” Vincent continued. “Clear skies after a night of snowfall were the worst. That’s when the gorgons preferred to hunt.”

“Gorgons?”

She’d only ever heard of them in ruins, never the north. Maybe that was their natural territory. They were said to have alluring feminine bodies, but with hair made of slim snakes that would tear a man apart after hypnotizing them to come close. Even worse were the eyes of the gorgons themselves. They could paralyze anyone they caught in their spell.

“With the snow nearly blinding everyone they’re at an even better advantage than normal,” Sir Vincent nodded. “They don’t have legs, but a serpent’s tail, so they can glide across the ice and snow without making a sound. They make their homes in the caves deep under the ice and use the crevices to move around without being seen. All that ice makes them harder to sense too.”

“That sounds terribly dangerous.”

“It was and it wasn’t,” he shrugged. “No more than any other commission. The drakes, ogres, and gorgons are very territorial. Not enough food to go around so we only ever had to deal with one in an area which made it easier. There weren’t any other large threats so in many ways it was safer than other commissions.”

“Then were those popular with mercenaries?” Amaryllis could guess that the assurance of a bit more safety, a better chance of returning, would be enticing to many.

“Sure,” he shrugged and tossed the twig away. “But I rarely took jobs in Marso if I could help it. Too damn cold. I’d rather be clearing goblin nests.”

“Did you do that often?” Amaryllis asked.

She was curious as to what a goblin den could be like. Clearly it was unpleasant given his tone. She knew that the small monsters tended to form groups and breed prolifically, causing problems through their sheer numbers as they weren’t particularly intelligent on their own.

“Often enough,” he shrugged and got up, holding out his hand. “But enough of that. It’s late.”