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"Let’s go." The old man immediately started packing up his things. "I’ll take the job. Let’s go now."
"Hey, hold on," Da Vinci tried to explain. "We might have to take you to war. Aren’t you afraid?"
"Afraid? Why would I be afraid?" The old man stuffed the money pouch into his chest, then asked in return, "You see Sforza every day and aren’t afraid? Letting me work for him is worse than sending me to the battlefield!"
Hedy couldn’t help but laugh. Then she asked, "So you’re willing to do anything?"
"As long as there’s this—" The old man waved the gold coins. "As long as the payment is right, I’ll do anything. At my age, I’d even wear a white dress and dance in church if you paid me enough!"
Meanwhile, Atalante quickly returned with some good news.
Not only had she found a wandering mercenary band, but she had also located the mercenary leader with the largest control over the number of soldiers.
In recent decades, the armies hired by surrounding city-states had come from various regions, making their composition rather complicated.
For example, the Venetians had long employed light cavalry from Greece and Dalmatia, and crossbowmen and heavy cavalry were essential as well.
The mercenary leaders, however, were a double-edged sword—people both loved and hated them.
Most of them had good leadership and judgment, but they were also greedier than anyone could stand.
It was precisely their greed that had allowed the city of Florence to escape a siege a hundred years ago, when they bribed their way out of a looming disaster.
"This is a mercenary band developed from a mercenary family," Atalante said, leading Hedy quickly toward the reception room. Her tone was slightly hesitant. "People call it 'Flame.' They say their killings are as brutal as hyenas."
Hedy quickly entered the room and, at that moment, saw a number of people.
Four or five large, burly men were either sitting or leaning, their muscles bulging, their faces rough, and their eyes revealing that they were not the type to be trifled with.
At the center of the group was a leader who seemed to have just returned from battle, still wearing chainmail.
He was reclining in a chair, his limbs stretched out loosely to either side, with his boots unapologetically resting on the table, leaving behind dirt and footprints.
Hedy gave him a quick glance, listening as Atalante introduced the names of the men.
They all came from the Zino family and had extensive battle experience. The mercenaries under their command numbered around three thousand.
This number was enough to repeatedly extort various small city-states.
The men grunted roughly through their noses, their eyes openly appraising her, seemingly dismissive, not bothered by her presence.
Atalante, though a little nervous, still dutifully explained the general hiring fees and the key points of the contract.
Hedy paid close attention to what he was saying, but her gaze remained fixed on the mercenary leader.
The man, still wearing his helmet, was also studying her, not uttering a single word, his attitude appearing indifferent throughout.
"I understand." She sat down slowly, completely ignoring the burly man next to her, whose arms were covered in knife wounds and tattoos. "Atalante, I would like to speak with the leader privately."
Atalante glanced at the leader's reaction and made a gesture, indicating for the others to leave.
The other men looked to their leader for confirmation, then quietly exited the room.
"Luris Zino." She spoke the name aloud, looking down at the contract. "A rather suitable partner. The price isn’t outrageous either."
The leader’s voice was deep and somewhat playful, clearly not taking her seriously. "Madam, allow me to offer a word of advice."
"A mercenary band is not for you to enjoy watching knightly jousts," he said, sitting up a little straighter. The sound of his fingers rubbing together made a slight, grating noise. "Most of our clients aren’t like you—"
