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“I’m staying.” Samuel was clearly waiting for him to speak, which was precisely why Harold said nothing. Most people were uncomfortable with silence, Harold had found, and if a person was uncomfortable he could more easily win them over to his side. Samuel began to fidget a little bit. Just as I suspected, thought Harold. He isn’t as confident as he would like me to believe. That gave Harold a good idea of where to start; if Samuel wasn’t completely confident, then he might be brought around to the other side. Harold let the quiet stretch on for a while longer, and when he spoke his voice could have been called mild, except for the unsaid message that lay beneath his words.
“So your conscience is niggling at you, eh? You want to do ‘the right thing’? Now tell me something. How would staying here help anything? You look for mercy. If there is none, what then? Do you plan to fight? Fighting means killing people. How would that clear your conscience? Let’s say they don’t kill you. Do you think they’re going to give you your job here at the estate back? I don’t think that’s what you really want. Working underneath someone, and having them in charge of your pay, which would in fact be considerably less than what you have been getting. Let the mercenaries finish off the job, and we can come back to wealth and comfort. It’s a mighty gamble you take, one that risks your very life. Come with, and I promise you that you will make it out alive. Think about it. Do you really want to stay?” finished Harold. He thought nothing of the promise he had made. He could guarantee no such thing, but the trick was making Samuel believe that he could. Harold felt that he had done a pretty good job on all accounts. Inwardly he smiled at the look of confusion on Samuel’s face, undoubtedly from his calm tone of voice.
“I’m staying,” said Samuel, though he sounded uncertain. It wasn’t the result Harold had hoped for, but it was close enough. Samuel was no longer solid in his standing, and Harold decided that it was now time to threaten. He took a step closer to Samuel and drew himself up to his full height. He had had plenty of practice making himself look intimidating.
“Listen, boy,” he said, mild no longer. The words were cutting, sharper than any knife. “You are coming, even if I have to knock you over the head and tie you to a horse. I would advise you to come of your own free will. I have known Henry a great deal longer than you have, and let me tell you something: you will receive no mercy. Do you hear me? Now get packing. Do you hear me? Go!”
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