Gasper was tapping on the table patiently as he sat. His men were still restless. They'd fought beside the Viscount, and they didn't know yet what to make of it. Some of them assumed that he had reached an agreement with the Viscount to topple the other crews and take over their territories. But those were the witless, Gasper imagined. Why would the Viscount clean shit to eat crap? The Viscount would want all of the bandits gone, not most of them gone and one left to reap the benefits.

Those who knew that had already begun spreading what they believed to be the hidden truth, which is that Gasper served the Viscount. They were right, but that wasn't the problem for him now. The problem was that many were scared. Their chief had helped the Viscount pull the other bandits by the roots. Would he eventually do the same to them? They had joined him with the purpose of banditry, after all. They weren't much better than the ones whose corpses adorned the fields of the basin now, even if they hadn't partook in shedding the blood of the Lord's subjects; they had still stolen from him.

"I think it's time for you to speak to them," Master Rudolf said from across the table. Beside him sat Erick who looked distressed, keeping his composure with some difficulty.

Gasper nodded. "I believe so as well." He'd avoided speeches because he didn't want to seem like one who was swindling his men to their deaths. He'd given them some time to adapt and had gotten Master Rudolf and Erick to attempt to calm those who were too anxious.

"What would you say . . . chief?" Erick said, hesitating at the last word.

Gasper hadn't explained too much to him. He'd only told him that the Viscount wouldn't come for their lives like he'd come for the lives of the other crews, and he'd had him spread the word to the members of the crew.

"The truth," Gasper smiled. "You already know it, and so do they, but you refuse to believe yourselves. You'll all sleep better when you hear it from me. Gather the men."

Erick gazed at him, obviously harboring some misgivings, but in the end he resigned himself and nodded. "Yes, chief." He got to his feet and left the cabin.

"You'll have to do it right," Master Rudolf said, taking off his mask.

"I don't believe there is a right and wrong way to do it" Gasper said, shaking his head. He didn't know how the men would take his speech. They were on the edge, and Erick had told him that some were already thinking of deserting. He didn't know where they would go, but he couldn't let them form a new crew. He didn't want the cycle beginning again, and he didn't want to give the Viscount reason to lost trust in him.

The old steward smiled at him, as if looking at a child about to touch a pot of boiling water. "There is always wrong and right, Gasper, and more often than not, people choose the wrong method to handle their affairs."

"And what is the right way?"

"It's the simplest, but also the easiest to miss," Master Rudolf said. "Those men joined you because they wanted a better life. And they want to leave you because you bring them a risk of death. Simply waving away the risks won't be enough. They are already ignorant of what is to come. You have to remove their fears and entice their needs."

Gasper scratched his chin in thought. He didn't know of a way to do both those things without throwing lies, or at least assumptions, at those men outside. He did know that the Viscount needed his men and wouldn't kill them for no reason. They couldn't simply be disbanded as they would likely resort to banditry elsewhere in the basin, but they could be put to good use should the Viscount need them.

A few hasty knocks fell on the door. Master Rudolf put his mask back onthen Erick entered. "I've commanded for everyone to gather outside, chief. They should all be there by the time you're ready to come out."

Gasper nodded and waved him out. He took a few moments to breathe then stood up. If everything went well, his men would stay, and the crew would grow stable again. If things went badly, a lot of his men would leave, and perhaps he would have to slaughter them himself. But what he had to avoid the most was everything going the worst it could go. If his men grew too volatile or desperate, believing that they would die, they could attempt to take him with them. He certainly didn't want to die in a bandit camp.

He saw Master Rudolf nod to him reassuringly. He nodded back and strode to the door. He opened it and stepped outside.

Men crowded each other for room around the cabin. The middle of the camp wasn't wide enough for 2000 men to stand. He was certain that there were many who wouldn't hear them, but his words would quickly spread through the crowd.

Erick who stood in front of him stepped back and nodded to him.

Gasper looked back at the cabin then grabbed the ledge of its roof. He easily pulled himself up and climbed on top of it swiftly.

On top of the cabin, he looked down on his men, their restlessness apparent in their inability to stand still. Each man he looked at was either crowding their neighbor for space or simply swinging from side to side, anxious.

He cleared his throat then spoke with a resounding voice. "Many of you have followed me since the birth of this crew. We've not been through many battles, but we have had our fair share. One thing that brings all the battles we've been through together is the lack of a defeat." He paused for the words to sink into their heads. "We've never faced an utter defeat. Those who've been in this basin for years were wiped out, but we weren't. Luwin's men, mercenaries, better trained and more experienced still died at the hands of the Viscount. No one was invulnerable to death, except us." He grew silent again, giving himself room to breathe.

"We have survived," he continued. "You have survived . . . because you followed me. Because you followed the Viscount."

The crowd erupted into mass chattering. Stray murmurs were thrown from side to side. No one faulted him aloud, and for a moment he was thankful that he had arranged for the death of the most outspoken ones in his crew under the hooves of the Viscount's cavalry.

"That is why . . . " he said, the chattering slowly dying down after his words. "That is why you should have faith in me, and in the Viscount. You live because you serve him. And you'll stay alive as long as you keep serving him."

He watched the anxiety among his men slightly fade away. His words had relaxed them a little, but not enough. He had to push them a bit more. He had to give them purpose. "When you came to me, most of you were homeless, coinless, and nearly without enough rags to cover your bodies. Under my command, you've been fed and you've held coin again after years of poverty. You live well now."

Some of the men nodded, faint smiles on their faces. Others stayed silent, waiting to hear more.

"And you will live even better if you continue to serve the Viscount," Gasper said, a commanding depth to his voice. "Do you not understand what has become you, you fools?" He guffawed. "You have stepped up in the world, from brigands whose lives are worth nothing to men who serve a noble Lord. You no longer have to fear the sword of a noble chasing you for bearing a blade without their name. You no longer need to sleep with uncertainty of your survival in the days to come. No matter what happens, you serve a Lord. You will never be abandoned."

A few laughs erupted among the crowd, and as if they'd given way to a flood, more guffaws erupted until the whole crew was in cheers, drowning their fears with the promises they very much wanted to believe.

Gasper pressed his lips, unsure if half of what he'd promised these men was true. He hoped it was, but he was uncertain. He was certain of one thing though; he had to keep all of this crew under his command, and the words he'd just said were the only way to achieve that.