Beau Bergeron had a grim look on his face as he accepted his task, but a smile beneath his poker face almost revealed his glee at this turn of events. An army, he thought. It might not be one he was in charge of, but it would by default be one he was leading. The perfect diversion for him to finally get his hands on cards of the Daemon Arcana.
But there was dissension in the ranks. The brothers clearly weren’t happy with the choice of lead for their expedition, or at the very least there was discussion afterwards. Captain Lafitte either was oblivious to the results of his actions, or he simply liked getting under the skin of the Ereonis Brothers. Probably both, was Beau’s estimation. The politics was a delight to one of his sensibilities, one used to the backroom dealing that wealth and power afforded.
A wealth and power he was eager to have back after so long aboard a pirate vessel, without even a shred of convenience and forced to do hard labor day in and day out just to make ends meet. The experience had been excruciating, serving to make him only harder and colder. His revenge would be sweet.
But first he must obtain the way back to his home. He needed to pull off one last performance.
“I will serve you well, you know.” Beau said, as innocently as a player with a pocket pair of kings could sound. “You may feel a certain méfiance à l’égard towards my person, but be assured, if your goal is a counter-storming of the mountain, few would perform better at directing your reinforcements than I. In another lifetime I gathered much experience in that regard,” he added, to which Lafitte raised an eyebrow.
Beau had never told the Captain much of what he’d done in his past. The night in which Beau had lead the Guilds of New Orleans against his traitor of a best friend was still fresh in his mind.
“An Assassin is only as malevolent as the one who wields him. If you are wielding me, rest assured your reinforcements will arrive to perform,” Beau finished with a bow. It was an assumption that their real concern was his profession, rather than his actual motives, but he’d bet his last note that that was the case.