"How did it go?" Timothy vont Alms asked his second son when as soon as he walked through the front door.

Before Bradley could speak, the City Lord continued his line of questioning.

"I heard it went well. My spies reported you all had an enjoyable lunch. But, why did you visit the Merchant Guild?" The City Lord asked curiously.

Summing his courage, Bradley replied, "Father, William vont Ballard offered me a job, working with him as his Chief Engineer. I accepted!"

"He did what? You accepted?" Timothy vont Alms gave a crooked smile. He wondered what came over his weak, spinless, brat of a son.

"Yes father, I accepted. I am the Director of Research and Development. My salary will be comparable to Guidon Engineer Commander. Moreover, he will allow me to hire my staff," Bradley finished, waiting for his father's backlash.

"My son is working under Sir. William vont Ballard, how joyous! I will be the envy of the other lords. Ha-ha, I never thought you were a capable son, and now you exceeded my expectations. Having a spy in Sir. vont Ballard's companies would be advantageous and profitable,"

In his entire life, Timothy vont Alms had never praised his children. Bradley stood at the front door amazed, that his father took this time to applaud him.

"Tell me, I can't wait to hear, what does Sir. vont Ballard want you to create for him?" the City Lord hunch over, rubbing his heads together in anticipation.

"I'm sorry father, I can't tell you…" Bradley was interrupted before he could explain.

"You little shit, what do you mean you can't tell me? How ungracious you are! I've sheltered, fed, and clothed you. I pay your academy fees, for your silly little engineering classes. And the one time I ask you to do something for me you reply, 'I'm sorry father, I can't tell you!' I should kick you out to live with the riff-raff!" the City Lord, yelled, mocked, and slapped Bradley on the check.

Bradley started crying, sadness and hate-filled his heart. He originally thought his father was proud of him. But, he realized his father, was only cared for himself. He knew his father to be a liar and deceitful, but now he also knew him to be a heartless narcissist.

Crying, Bradley replied, "I can't tell you because Sir. William made me take a vow of silence."

"Oh, that crafty devil. He saw through my ruse. But, if he saw through my plan, why did he hire you of all people? It doesn't make any sense, why not hire someone away from the Engineer Command Post," Timothy vont Alms walked away to his study.

Bradley sat on the floor. He stopped crying, but the tears dangled from his cheeks. He cursed his father inwardly, what an awful man. He secretly vowed to ruin his father's beloved status.

As Bradley was making his way off the floor to stand up, his father cracked his office door.

"Bradley, what about the auction? Did he agree to me shares secretly?" he asked indifferently to his hurt son.

"No, Will said he wouldn't sell you any shares. But he did offer me shares for his next company and I'll die before I let you get those or any other shares from my friend Will!" Bradley shouted, dusting off his clothes, and running upstairs to his room.

"Your friend, Will? You may still be worth keeping around," the City Lord whispered as he walked back into this office.

While Bradley was speaking with his father, Will walked to the Guidon prison. The prison was building located near the administration building. Guidon's prison was a single story, with two underground basements. The troubadours were housed near the back wall of the basement, adjacent to the sub-basement stairs.

As Will approached the opaque building, two scruffy-looking city guards stopped him at the entrance, spears raised cautiously. The guards could tell Will was a noble cadet, his demeanor and jaunt gave him away.

"State your name and business?" questioned a guard.

"Sir. William vont Ballard and I are here to see the troubadours I imprisoned," Will replied indifferently.

"Sir. vont Ballard?" gasped the second guard. He was surprised to see the famous merchant in person.

"You younger than I thought?" said the first guard.

"Yes, I hear that often. Please let the way?" Will replied dispassionately.

Will followed the guard. The guard led Will through the first-floor prison. The prison was dark, except for the small noon-day sun that shone through the prison cell windows.

Common criminals were imprisoned on the first floor. Will saw many children, younger than he was jailed. Most commoners were imprisoned for stealing or robbery.

At the back of the first floor were stairs. Will followed the guard down the descending steps. The second was much darker. Candles stubs were barely lit, wax hung from the candles like icicles.

Upon reaching the prison basement, the guard grasped a torched and slowly moved down the corridor. The first thing Will noticed was the rancid smell. The chamber pots looked like they accumulated days' worth of excrement.

The second thing Will noticed was the frailness and bruises of the inmates. These people were malnourished and diseased. As they approached the rear of the basement, near the stairs to the sub-basement, the guard stopped.

"Sir. vont Ballard here is your criminals. The Lord vont Alms requested these men be whipped daily. Each man received a bowl of gruel and cup of water once a day, as ordered," the toothless guard smiled proudly.

This man seemed very proud of himself Will thought, 'am I supposed to thank him?' Will had never been in such an awkward situation. Nevertheless, Will thanked the man for his services. Hearing Will's thanks, the gummy guard smiled proudly.

Will turned his attention away from the guard to the dirt-covered troubadours, who sat quietly in the cell. All except one were sat hunched over in remorse. The former leaders, lay on the ground unmoving covered in open wounds that festered. Flies buzzed around the gnash on the man's head, and cadaver worms waved their tales and they borrowed deeper into the man's corpse.

Will was astonished, he never thought the troubadours would go as far as killing their ringleader.

"Did you know this man was dead?" Will asked in surprise.

The troubadours lifted their heads when they heard Will's voice. They had been in prison for two days. In two days, they killed the instigator. Will knew these men had changed; they realized their irresponsibility.

"Yes, he died the night they were imprisoned," replied the guard.

"To remove this man at once, grab as many men as you need. Also, bring these men some bread and freshwater, have their chamber pots cleaned," Will commanded handing the man a silver coin.

"Yes sir," said the guard, and off he ran.

The troubadours eyed Will thankfully. These men were used to roughing it on the road, not a prison. However, over the six months they worked for Will, they forgot how good their lives were. They went from being thankful for taking their situation for granted.

For the past two days, Vanessa had a difficult time encouraging new troubadours and musicians, to work in the theatre. Imprisoning these criminals, had an unexpected negative impact on hiring. The theatre had become a sinkhole, and Will need to need that business to start earning back lost profit.

Will intention was to check on these men and learn if they've been reformed, and fit to return to work. However, he planned to let the arrogant prick who fooled these men rot in prison for the rest of his life. Now, Will saw that man lying dead.

At that moment, Will knew the trauma these men experienced could be used for his benefit. Offering them rewards, these men would hopefully develop a positive connection to him. First, he commands the guard to remove the deceased as a show of authority. Then he would offer them food and ease their burdens.

"You all were right to kill that man, he took advantage of you, and look where you ended up? I want you all to come work for me again," Will began.

Hearing Will's words, then men looked up at him smiling. One by one they grasped the bars or wall to stand. Will held the torch so the men could see his face.

"This man lied to you! You gentle souls were abused and tortured. I sympathize with you. When you worked for me, you had a flat, were well-fed, and had steady work. Now, you live in fear and terror of the prison guards. I am here to free you, but you must work for me again, at a reduced rate and benefits," Will said arms open wide.

"Yes, Boss Will we'll gladly work for you again," said one.

"We were fooled, we'll never complain again," said another.

"All we want to do is put on plays. Our payment will be the applause," said a third.

The rest nodded in agreement. Will grinned in satisfaction, he achieved better results than excepted. These men would be his lackeys for life. As long as they performed and he made money, Vanessa could handle the rest.

Instead of removing them immediately from prison, Will would let them remain a day or two. As long as the troubadours received better food and accommodations from the rest of the inmates, their devotion for him would rise.

Before he left, Will watched the guards remove the dead body. He also bribed guards to make sure his inmates were well accommodated. Looking back at the troubadours, Will saw hope return to their eyes. As Will walked out of the prison, he heard the troubadours merrily singing his praises.