by AC Cobble
Rew suspected that the bandits were returning to their lair, and soon enough, his suspicions were confirmed. The party crested a short ridge of rock then quickly moved back. In the distance, they saw a looming, ancient stone fortress. The place looked as if it hadn’t been occupied in ages, but after closer study, Rew saw fires glowing from within, and some of the roofs of the buildings showed signs of recent repair.
They moved around the terrain looking for a better vantage, and Rew identified several locations he thought lookouts might be stationed. The place was isolated and well protected. The men inside would not have taken such pains unless they meant it to be a long-term base, which meant they were serious about conducting their banditry. It was possible, even, that the leader of the bandits meant to establish himself as a local warlord and would attempt to rule the surrounding area. It wouldn’t be the first time land had been seized rather than granted by the king. With Duke Eeron dead, no one officially ruling Spinesend, and Prince Valchon evidently uninterested in restoring order, it was the perfect time for such a thing. The more he thought about it, the more Rew believed the bandits were more than simple thugs.
It left him wondering how much the king knew about them and why. Vaisius Morden ruled with an iron fist, but he respected strength in others as well. There had been occasions in the past when the king had allowed a man to carve his own piece from the kingdom’s hide, though Rew doubted the bandits understood that once they’d established themselves and fought off any challenges from the local nobles, their real problems would begin. The king respected strength, and there was no one stronger than him. He left no question what consequences landholders would face if they did not show him proper deference and send in their tithes.
After enough of a look at the fortress to determine they weren’t going to deal with the bandits that night, Rew led the others half a league away, in a different direction than they’d come, and found a small canyon back amongst some hills and within a thick, pine forest. Their tracks to the canyon were easy to obscure, and they did not light a fire when they settled down. Rew didn’t like the idea of boxing themselves in, but the surrounding area didn’t have many options for concealment, so they took what they had.
As soon as they all ate a cold meal, Rew set them a schedule for a watch. Then, he slipped away, going back toward the bandit fortress. At night, he would have an easier time approaching the place and scouting the defenses than he would during the day. There was only so much stealth even he could employ on a wide-open grass expanse in broad daylight.
The bandits, it seemed, had prepared to be followed. In three locations, Rew spied hidden stands where a lookout was stationed. He slunk close to one of them and observed the man inside. The man was dressed simply in leather armor and neutral clothing that looked to be consistent with the southwestern corner of Duke Eeron’s duchy. He wasn’t clean shaven, but his hair had been trimmed in recent weeks, and he’d bathed since then. He had a shortsword that looked to be cared for, and in his lap he cradled a crossbow that gleamed with fresh oil. A quarrel was set in the device, the tip shining in the moonlight. The man, contrary to everything Rew believed about bandits and their lookouts, was wide awake. The watcher moved little while Rew watched, but the man’s open eyes reflected the low light from the night sky. He was a professional.
Rew estimated that it would be impossible for Raif or Cinda to approach the lookout unseen. If they were to come to the fortress, he would have to take out the watcher before they got there. Moving like a snake slithering through the grass, Rew passed by the lookout and approached the fortress.
Along the crumbled battlement, there were no lights, but Rew detected several shadows that could have been more guards, and from within, he saw the orange glow of a fire. It flickered intermittently, as if people were passing back in forth in front of it. There seemed to be a lot of activity for hours after sunset in an abandoned fortress in the middle of nowhere.
Rew reached the walls of the fortress and put a hand against them. The stone was weathered, ancient, placed there by some forgotten family centuries before. It was old enough he thought it could have been from before Vaeldon was officially formed by the rise of Vaisius Morden. Perhaps the family had fallen on hard times when the king’s highway passed half a day west of their keep instead of skirting closer. Such places dotted the lonely parts of Vaeldon, forgotten monuments to an earlier age.
Rew trailed a hand along the stone as he circled the fortress. There were no traps laid, no obstacles in his way, but there was no obvious egress into the place, either. In spots where the walls had started to fall down, the bandits had made repairs. Even the sewer spout in the back of the wall had been covered by a steel grate, that, with a quick touch, Rew couldn’t feel a speck of rust on. He kept going and found several locations with fresh mortar, and when he’d circled all of the way around and came to the gates, he saw they’d been built of new pine and bound with steel. It wasn’t as sturdy as the gates of Spinesend or Falvar, but for an out-of-the-way fortress that few people would ever see, it was stout enough.
He’d been right. These men were bandits, yes, but they had more ambitious plans than that. Someone inside was intending to carve out their own chunk of the world during the chaos of the Investiture. That meant that there were likely far more of the bandits than the two dozen men they’d followed from the road. Several times that, Rew guessed, unless the men were more foolhardy than their preparations implied.
He looked around and considered retreating back to the canyon to tell the others what he’d found, but so far, he hadn’t found anything noteworthy. He sighed, circled the walls until he found a quiet-seeming place, and began to climb.
The walls of the fortress were only a dozen paces high. Too tall to jump up and grasp the battlement, but not tall enough to give him any trouble. He peered between the crenellations and saw a narrow walkway atop the battlement and simple empty towers at the four corners of the fortress. They were open to the inside, just wooden posts and roofs covering them, and they were occupied. Rew could clearly see a man in each of the towers to his sides. Both guards appeared to be looking out at the terrain around them instead of at the walkway, but it was difficult to tell in the dark, so Rew hung on the outside of the wall, his body pressed close to it.
Inside of the fortress were a dozen buildings, some small and dark, others larger. In the center was a great hall, and as he’d guessed, warm light spilled out of the doors and windows. It was clear there was a lot of activity going on inside. Storing takings from the highway or preparing another outing? Rew couldn’t tell, but he could hear the murmur of voices from within and gathered that it was at least somewhat full. Fifty men?
He frowned. The activity in the building was not what he would have expected. It was late at night, hours past sunset. Why were so many people awake? It wasn’t a raucous celebration. He could hear no singing or boisterous jests that accompanied the kind of festivities men like these enjoyed. If these were simple bandits or even a warlord staking territory through violence, what could they be doing in there if not enjoying the spoils from the merchants? Rew couldn’t guess the purpose of the building from outside the walls, but one thing he decided, this was the king’s test.
A handful of quietly spoken words caught his attention, and Rew glanced left. A second shape had joined the first in the tower, this one standing. In seconds, the second man started walking, coming along the walkway Rew was hanging beside.
Quietly, the ranger lowered himself and hung flat against the wall. Unless the guard on patrol looked straight down, he wouldn’t see Rew, but the care of the bandits was disturbing. At least five men were on watch and patrolling the battlements. Several more outside the walls were stationed in outposts. It was a great deal of security for a fortress in the middle of the nowhere. Not even a newly minted warlord needed to take such precautions. It wasn’t their mere presence these men were guarding. It was whatever they were doing inside.
Rew listened to the sof
t tread of boots on stone as the guard passed him by. He pulled himself up again. At night, he couldn’t see enough detail to figure out what was going on. He climbed higher, crouching in a crenellation of the battlement, waiting for a chance to slip inside of the fortress. Then, the door to the hall opened, and a dozen armed men walked out, illuminated by the light within and a scattering of burning brands they carried. Soft voices reached him, and Rew heard one man giving the others instructions. The men spread out and began to work. The lights of their torches revealed a large pen, like for livestock, that they’d built in the middle of the courtyard. It was twice as high as it needed to be for domestic animals, though, and the men were placing boards and hammering them around the edges. A second group came and inserted reinforcing struts.
An open air prison? But from what Rew could see, there was nothing inside. Bandits wouldn’t take hostages unless it was a nobleman they could ransom, and there was room for an awful lot of nobles in that pen. Any other captives were an expense they would avoid. Even if they had overbuilt for livestock they intended to steal, why put the thing inside? Anyone who’d ever been around animals would fashion their paddock outside of the walls, keeping the smell and the noise away from where they were sleeping. Shaking his head, Rew realized that while he could clearly see what these men were doing, there were no clues as to why, and with so many of them working below, it was too great a risk to try and get closer.
He dropped soundlessly outside and carefully snuck back past the watchers in the outposts then into the pine forest and to the canyon the rest of the party was camped in. It was midnight, and as he approached, he smiled to see Raif pacing back and forth across the mouth of the canyon. The boy had removed his armor, and on the thick carpet of pine needles, he was moving about as silently as he ever had. He didn’t have the casual alertness of the bandit watchers, but he was awake, and he was ready.
Rew ghosted toward him and called out softly when he was a dozen paces away.
Raif jumped in surprise, not having seen the ranger approach. He stepped closer and whispered, “Well?”
6
In daylight the next morning, Rew diagramed out what he’d seen the night before around the fortress. He marked the outposts where he’d found watchers. He sketched in the buildings within the walls and explained the patrols he’d observed. He was careful to avoid mention of any sewers, as he’d learned where that would get him. The others watched him closely, and when he was finished, they all looked at him expectantly. Sitting on his haunches, he shifted.
“What’s your plan?” asked Cinda.
Rew rubbed the top of his head, thinking it was time for a shave. He responded, “Seems every time I offer a plan, you all disagree with it.”
“Spinesend was our mission,” said Cinda. “We’ve said that we’re going to find our sister, but… Now we’re following you, Ranger. It’s your path we walk, and only you know where it will take us.”
Raif, his lips pressed tightly together, nodded. Zaine simply gestured to his diagram when he looked at her. Anne shrugged.
Sighing, Rew told them, “These are serious men, and they’re not afraid of violence. If we walk into that fortress and attempt to barter Grund’s falchions for coin, they’re going to kill us. We could attempt to utilize Zaine’s skillset and sneak in there and lift whatever coin we can find, but I wasn’t able to identify a treasure room if they have one, and the place is well guarded. Even at night, there were dozens of men awake and alert. We’d be taking a big risk for an uncertain payout. In addition, I’m convinced there is more to these bandits than what I was able to see. This, whatever it is, is the king’s test. He wanted us to come here, and my guess, he wanted us to either investigate or attack these men. That means it’s more dangerous than we expected. It’s worth considering walking away.”
“If it’s the king’s test, can we afford to ignore it?” wondered Cinda.
“That’s what I usually do,” admitted Rew. “How do you think I ended up in Eastwatch?”
“So we’d just… leave them alone?” wondered Raif.
“That’s the safest option,” said Rew. “Somewhere between here and Carff there will be an easier way of getting coin. Or, worst case, we just keep walking until we get to Stanton. If the king is wondering what we’ll do about these bandits, walking away is an answer. It’s possible it may encourage him to leave us alone.”
“Or to visit us again,” challenged Zaine.
Rew shrugged. She was right, but long ago, he’d decided that guessing the mind of the king was a game far too difficult for him. Instead, he’d relied on his own instincts, and that had worked for him most of his life, more or less.
“This journey, to Carff and beyond, is about making the kingdom a better place, isn’t it?” asked Cinda. “I mean, if that’s not what we’re about, we could head somewhere and hide until the Investiture is over, right?”
Rew nodded.
“It’s a big goal,” remarked Cinda, “and there’s no certainty we’ll succeed, is there?”
Rew nodded again, watching the young noblewoman, suspecting where she was going but letting her take them there on her own. She’d claimed it was his path they walked, and there was truth to that, but she was the one who’d need to do the work when they got to the end. Anne had been right. The children were not ready for what was to come. He and the empath didn’t have time to train Cinda and the others, but they had to try. Cinda was the key to it all. For her, and them, to succeed, she had to learn how to take initiative, how to fight for what mattered. Rew watched her, and she smirked at him.
“There is evil in this kingdom—some of it in Mordenhold, some of it right here. I know what you’ll say, Ranger, that if we get distracted helping every sod who needs it, we’ll never find Alsayer, confront the princes, and solve the bigger problem. You’re right, but that doesn’t mean we overlook everything, does it?”
“Look, there is no practical way to get coin from that fortress without violence,” said Raif. “We don’t have any authority here in these lands. Unless you’re suggesting we turn vigilante…”
“Maybe I am.”
Her brother frowned at her.
“Keep in mind that Rew is the King’s Ranger,” said Cinda. “We’re not on your territory, Ranger, but you are still the king’s agent, right? He, ah… that thing seemed to believe so, at least. He wouldn’t have mentioned the bandits if he wanted us to ignore them. You believe they are his test, don’t you?”
Rew snorted. “Aye, I suppose I am still the King’s Ranger. Somehow. And while I hate to guess the mind of Vaisius Morden, this is probably the test he mentioned.”
“What would you do in these circumstances if it wasn’t for us?” pressed Cinda.
Rew scratched his chin, honestly unsure. “Well, I’d alert the nobleman who’s territory we were in—“
“But he’s dead,” interjected Cinda. “What would you do about these bandits if they were threatening Eastwatch?”
Rew laughed a cold laugh. “I’d kill them.”
“I have no objection to that course of action,” declared Cinda. “We saw what these men did to those merchants and their guards. They’re bad men, and they deserve whatever comes to them.”
“They are murderers,” agreed Raif, suddenly warming to the idea of a confrontation, “and Rew is an agent of the king, so his authority extends across all of Vaeldon, doesn’t it, Ranger?”
Rew shifted, glancing at Anne out of the corner of his eye to see what she thought of where they were going. “It does, but killing a man is not to be done lightly, even when they deserve it. We should not talk ourselves into this simply so we can take the coin from these men. Not to mention, we’re making a great leap to assume we’ll be successful in the first place. There’s more to these men than simple bandits.”
“What more?” asked Raif.
Rew shrugged and did not respond. He did not know, but if it was the king’s test, he knew it would not be easy or straightforward. While he c
ouldn’t put his finger on what exactly it was, there’d been something terribly wrong about the great hall the night before. It did not make sense the way the men were acting, if they were bandits or even thugs of a warlord. What possible reason could they have for constructing the pen in the courtyard?
“If we don’t stop them, what will they do?” asked Zaine. “Attack more merchants, a town? How many will die before they’re stopped?”
Not responding, Rew looked around the group, seeing the resolve on the children’s faces. It wasn’t their battle, but they were willing to make it so because they thought it the right thing to do. They weren’t wrong, but Cinda hadn’t been wrong either when she’d said each little distraction took them further from what they were meant to accomplish, and just because the king offered them a test did not mean they should actually do it. Rew had spent the last decade avoiding that man’s tests, yet now it seemed the children were eager to take the king up on it. Was that the test itself, to see how far they were willing to go? Or was it a test to see how far he would push them? They weren’t ready for this sort of thing, or for what was to come, but the children never would be if they never faced serious situations.
Anne cleared her throat. “We’ve a difficult road ahead of us. Terrible challenges, incredible danger. You’ve faced such circumstances before, Rew, but the rest of us have not. Not until we left Eastwatch with you, that is. Do you think we, as a group, are prepared for what is ahead of us? Not just our skill, but our willingness to do what is needed?”
Rew met Anne’s look, and they held each other’s gaze for a long time. Just like her, to guess what he’d been thinking and to voice it, to confront him with what he knew but chose to ignore.
The others stayed quiet, watching the ranger and the empath. Anne, a nurturer by nature and practice, never would have advocated for this, no matter the bandits’ crimes, except for what it meant for the children. She was right, whether she was simply guessing at his own line of thinking or if she had decided the matter herself. The children weren’t prepared for what was coming. Anne wanted them sharpened, hardened, and annealed in the fires of violence. He wondered how much she suspected they would need that bitter edge. He wondered how closely her intent mirrored that of the king and what she would think of it if the same thought occurred to her.