48. Fenric
Fenric’s smile was quickly becoming a grimace as yet another person grabbed his hand and effusively pumped it while gushing with praise.
People constantly rapped him on the back and shoulders, going on about how their group had saved their lives and set them free.
He wasn’t entirely sure if they were talking about the finfolk or Lord Mire when it came to the free part.
Either way, this kind of talk was not helping their villain rating in the slightest.
He lifted onto the tips of his toes and found all the members of his team surrounded by the villagers.
Women were weeping tears of joy and pulling his comrades in to press wet kisses to their cheeks.
It was somewhat unnerving. He was more accustomed to red faces and fists clenched in anger.
What he wouldn’t give to see a pitchfork shaking in anger right about now.
“All of you are the most courageous heroes we’ve ever seen!” shouted a tall, beefy man with broad shoulders. By his rough hands and slightly smoky smell, Fenric was willing to guess this was the town’s blacksmith.
“We’re not heroes!” Fenric burst out, his voice on the verge of pleading as he grew more desperate. “Please! We’re not heroes. We’re villains. Evil, despicable, wretched villains!”
Around him, people laughed and didn’t pause in their thanks for even a breath.
“I’m serious. When the heroes get here, you must tell them how the villains from E.V.I.L. killed your lord and looted the manor, got it? You had no chance to protect him,” he continued, ignoring how much he sounded like Malfas as he’d helped the captives from the Dark Lady not so long ago.
“Yes! We were horrible and vicious!” Malfas chimed in from a few feet away. “Scarier than all the finfolk, with impressive magic and the best fighting skills in all the kingdom.”
A fresh roar of laughter drowned out their words. A giant, meaty hand slapped Fenric on the back, knocking him forward a step.
“Yeah, yeah. Don’t worry. We’ll tell them a group of frightening villains ransacked us,” Blacksmith agreed, but Fenric could hear the heavy teasing in his voice.
Fenric swallowed a groan and rolled his eyes. What was the point? No matter what he said, these people were going to spread the tale of a group of lunatics who’d swept in and saved them from the finfolk threat and the oppression of one careless, selfish lord.
“Villain or not, you’ve still earned the hundred-gold-pieces reward for removing the finfolk from the village,” Jessamine declared as she strolled through the crowd with a large bag of gold coins.
Fenric had no idea where she’d gotten that from because he was damn sure his group had snatched up every coin and bauble worth selling.
The only things they’d left behind were the deeds to the farmland and the food in the manor.
Both of those had been left for the people of Dunley.
Fenric’s mood improved in a flash, and he grinned broadly at the old woman. “That would be very generous of you,” Fenric said with a quick bow of his head. A heartbeat later, he whipped his head around. “Bel! The reward!” he snapped.
The barbarian turned smoothly and walked over to Jessamine, accepting the bag of gold.
When it came to keeping the group’s money until it could be divided up, the job always fell on Belstrom’s shoulders.
He was the best with numbers out of all of them, and his appearance was more than enough to frighten off any who might think about conning or stealing from them.
With the reward delivered and their thanks given, the villagers finally dispersed.
Many headed toward the manor as well, likely to ransack the place for food and other valuables.
More of the low hills and flat plains were becoming visible as the water retreated, but it was going to be a couple more days before the last of the water drained away, and even longer for their fields to become usable.
Hopefully, they’d be able to get enough from the manor and stores to survive for a while.
Someone tugged on Fenric’s sleeve, and he turned to find Maxie standing on his left, a deep frown marring his handsome face.
“What’s wrong?” Fenric inquired.
“Is this normal?” Maxie whispered, his voice rough with emotion.
“The finfolk attack? This is the first I’ve seen.”
Maxie shook his head. He still pinched Fenric’s sleeve between two fingers, but his grip was tightening, twisting in the damp material. It reminded him of the way a small child would cling to his mother’s skirts when he was afraid and seeking comfort.
“No, I mean for a village to be this badly run and poor. The farmland surrounding Lord Mire’s manor is flat with supposedly rich soil.
They have a steady stream of water from the Colfass River.
These villagers should be living comfortable, secure lives since they provide food for much of this region. But every one of them looks…”
He couldn’t seem to bring himself to say the words.
While the people had been joyous upon being freed, there was no hiding their gaunt, ragged appearance.
Each face was heavily lined from a rough life, and thin bodies were bowed from too much back-breaking work on too little food.
Even their clothes were threadbare to a person, looking as if they were actually beggars, not farmers.
“Like they’re barely scraping by? Like they’ve never seen a good meal? As if they’ve never had even a flicker of hope in their hard lives?” Fenric finished for him.
“Yes!” he hissed. His eyes widened, and there was angry fire within his golden eyes.
“Lord Mire was corrupt, like so many of these lords. He collected incredibly high taxes from his people, leaving them with barely enough food to feed themselves.” Fenric shrugged. He’d seen it plenty of times all over Moorwood.
“What about the heroes? Shouldn’t they have known about the finfolk and Lord Mire’s corruption? Why are the people of Moorwood being saved by villains and not the heroes employed by the crown?” The longer Maxie spoke, the harsher and louder his words became.
Fenric bit down on his tongue to hold in his bitter bark of laughter.
Yes, he’d heard of the wicked exploits of Lance Carrington and Gale Reeve, but it was easy to say they were just a pair of bad apples.
Not all heroes were bad, right? It wasn’t Maxie’s fault he still clung to some shreds of a na?ve image of the heroes.
The heroes were great at their own public relations.
They spread false stories about their daring and chivalrous acts, and the oppressed people of Moorwood ate them up because those stories were the only bit of hope they had.
“In the world we all once believed in, yes, the heroes should have stopped all of this long ago,” Fenric said softly, trying to deliver the blow with some gentleness.
Maxie wasn’t a bad kid, but he needed to wake up and see the world for what it really was.
He’d been too sheltered for too long. “In most cases, the people who have been labeled heroes are just as bad as Lord Mire and Count Pierres.”
Maxie lifted his gaze to the manor, where they could see people carrying out armloads of food with deep looks of relief etched into their weary faces.
“Then…the other villains…” Maxie started slowly, turning to look at Fenric again. “Are they like Hapi and Bel and the rest of you?”
“Huh?”
Maxie’s wonderful smile bloomed once again, but it now had a new fragility to it as his eyes shone bright in the midday sun.
It was like he was clinging to the last shreds of hope after his world had shattered, and he was piecing them back together to establish a new order. “You help people. You save them and—”
“No!” Fenric’s heart leapt into his throat and nearly choked him at the idea of Maxie going off to another villain group and asking for their help. The boy would end up filleted and left in a ditch before he could bat those ridiculously long eyelashes at them. His puppy eyes wouldn’t save him.
Twisting out of Maxie’s grip, he grabbed his shoulders with both hands.
“No, the other villains are not like us. We have a code we live by. Don’t make the lives of people who are struggling to get by worse.
Don’t hurt kids or helpless women.” He paused and winced.
“Women who can kick a man’s ass we are allowed to beat up.
They’re different. But that’s beside the point.
If you need help, don’t go to a hero or another villain.
You just come to us. We’ll keep you safe. You’re one of us now. Remember that.”
Maxie’s smile didn’t wilt one bit at his warning. If anything, the boy seemed to glow even brighter, and it was kind of scary. Lirion and Aria weren’t allowed to give him any more training for his damn puppy eyes. He was going to take over the fucking world with them.
“Don’t worry, Fenric. I don’t plan to seek assistance from anyone else ever. I want to learn how to be the very best villain so I’m worthy of being a member of your team.”
Fenric smirked as he lifted his hands from Maxie’s shoulders and tousled his soft curls. “You just be you. And don’t poison the team. The rest doesn’t matter.”
“I can do that!”
With his arm thrown around Maxie’s shoulders, Fenric breathed a sigh of relief. Maxie would be safe as long as he stayed away from heroes and villains. He was part of E.V.I.L. now, and they looked after their own.