by M. Gregg Roe
He decided to not mention the subject of children to Audrey again if he could possibly help it. Audrey had enough stress in her life as it was. Patience was the key. In time, she might change her mind about having children. Or he might. You never knew.
43
‡ Lost ‡
“Something’s wrong.”
The abrupt words caused Branwyn to look at her husband in surprise. His right hand was on the hilt of his dagger as he stared straight ahead with a serious expression. Glancing back at their destination, she suddenly realized just what Milric was reacting to and felt apprehensive. Tilda’s house was completely dark.
She held out her left hand, palm upwards. “I see it. Illumination!” A glowing ball of soft white light appeared just above her palm. She concentrated and it rose a yard above her and then followed along as they continued to walk toward the house.
When they reached the front door, Milric knocked and then tried the door. “Locked.” She followed him as he walked around to the left side of the house where the kitchen door was located. He stopped abruptly. “It’s been broken down.” He grabbed the metal whistle hanging from his neck on a leather lanyard and blew a sequence that Branwyn immediately recognized. He was summoning any nearby Rohoville City Guards.
After Milric drew his dagger, Branwyn followed him as he approached the broken side door. He pushed it open with his left foot and she saw Tilda lying on her left side with her head surrounded by a disturbingly large pool of drying blood. “Check the rest of the house,” she told her husband. “I’ll see to her.” He nodded and then picked up a glow-cube from a nearby shelf. He shook it to activate it as he moved off through the dining area.
Branwyn bent down and was relieved to find that Tilda was still alive. There was a sizable wound on the back of her head, but it was no longer bleeding. It looked as if Tilda had been struck with something blunt like a club. She placed her right hand over the wound, concentrated, and cast Recovery. She could sense that Tilda’s skull was fractured, so she healed that first before turning her attention to the external injury. By the time she finished, Milric had returned.
“Danhelm is asleep on the floor of his room,” he told her matter-of-factly. “There is no sign of the girls. I’m going outside.” He put the glow-cube back on the shelf before leaving.
Valwyn! Branwyn suppressed the fear now threatening to overwhelm her. She went into Danhelm’s room with her magical light dutifully following. The dark-haired, six-year-old boy was lying on the wooden floor. After determining that he had no significant injuries, she probed for magic. A Sleep spell, she thought. They probably used one on the girls too.
A quick look in Hanna’s and Tilda’s small bedrooms revealed nothing amiss. As she walked to the sitting room, she heard Milric’s voice outside ordering his guards to sound a general alert and start a search. The sitting room is where the girls would probably have been. Valwyn and Petra had simply come to visit Hanna and have dinner. She and Milric headed over when the two failed to return home by dark, but they hadn’t been concerned. Sometimes the girls lost track of time while talking or playing games.
Everything looked normal, but Branwyn noticed a slight glint from under one of the upholstered chairs. She knelt and reached underneath, pulling out a wicked-looking throwing knife. It’s probably one of Hanna’s. That girl has lightning reflexes and they must have had some warning. Branwyn concentrated, and she could still detect some slight magic from that part of the room. The girls were here when they were hit by a Sleep spell. She put the knife down on a side table.
Returning to the kitchen, Branwyn squatted down and gently shook Tilda’s shoulder to wake her. “Don’t try to get up yet,” she said gently. “You were hit in the head. Danhelm is safe in his room.”
Tilda’s eyes went wide as she realized what Branwyn hadn’t said. She raised her head abruptly and winced in pain, putting her right hand to the back of her neck. “What about the girls? What about Hanna?!”
Branwyn could hear the rising panic in Tilda’s voice. “They’re missing, but the entire guard force is out looking for them. We’ll find them.”
Tilda didn’t look reassured. She pushed herself up and stared in shock at the puddle of still-sticky blood. Branwyn heard footsteps and saw a young guard with a short blond beard standing in the doorway. He nodded at her and she nodded back.
Branwyn turned to her friend. “What do you remember, Tilda? We need as much information as possible.”
Tilda’s lips worked briefly as she thought. “I was looking through the pantry trying to decide what to fix for dinner. I heard a loud noise from the direction of the door. When I looked, it was open but there was no one there. I took a step toward the door and … then I must have been hit from behind. That’s all I remember.”
“That’s fine,” Branwyn assured her. The kidnappers had probably used magic to make themselves invisible.
Tilda started to slowly get up and the guard helped her to stand. Branwyn picked up the glow-cube and handed it to her, ordering, “Go check on Danhelm.”
“Okay.” Tilda took the glow-cube and walked out.
“I will inform the Captain of what she said,” the guard told her.
“Tell him a minimum of three kidnappers. At least one spell-caster. They might have turned the girls invisible after putting them to sleep.”
“Maybe they used a cart,” he suggested, looking thoughtful.
“Good thinking. Look for cart tracks or anyone who saw a cart.”
“Yes, Priestess Branwyn.”
As he departed, Branwyn headed back to Danhelm’s room. Thinking about what fate might await her daughter was making her increasingly anxious. She said a quick prayer to Arwon, asking him to watch over the three girls and keep them safe.
“Any word?” asked Tilda as Branwyn walked in. The boy was lying in his bed now, but was still asleep.
“No, Tilda. Not yet. I want you and Danhelm to go stay in the castle until this is over. Milric will see to it that your house is guarded.”
“Okay. Branwyn, why would anyone take Hanna?” she pleaded.
Branwyn had been wondering that herself. “I suspect that Petra was the target because of her connection to Ermizad. They may have taken Hanna and Valwyn because they were witnesses. Or to help keep Petra calm. I don’t know.”
After getting Tilda to start packing up some clothing, Branwyn returned to the kitchen and leaned against the cabinets, feeling weak. Her daughter was gone and she felt lost.
♦ ♦ ♦
Hagen looked directly at Ermizad. “I request permission to travel to Rohoville.”
Ermizad looked at each of her three councilors. Hagen saw Daragrim and Celebern both nod their agreement, but Mardan frowned before saying, “I believe we should wait. Petra was certainly the primary target, and that implies that we will likely soon receive a ransom demand. That information will need to be conveyed to Rohoville.”
That wasn’t what Hagen wanted to hear. He wanted to go as soon as possible. His primary concern was his own daughter, and he wanted to go immediately to aid in the search for her. But he was the Captain of the Witch’s City Guard, and he would do as he was ordered.
Ermizad frowned slightly as she mulled it over. Celebern suddenly spoke up. “There is a ship scheduled for the early afternoon. Perhaps Captain Hagen could travel then?”
“Yes,” agreed Ermizad with a single nod. “That will do. Captain, make arrangements and then check back with us before heading to the docks.”
Hagen saluted. “Yes, Lady Ermizad.”
Exiting the Witch’s Castle, he noted that some of the vendors were already setting up for the daily market despite the overcast skies and light drizzle. After a moment’s thought, he headed northeast toward the Temple of Arwon. On the way, he passed three pairs of guards and received their salutes. The delay in heading to Rohoville bothered him, but he trusted the people there to do everything possible to find the three girls. Milric was competent, and the man’s own daug
hter was one of the ones who had been taken.
As he climbed the temple’s stone steps, his wife walked out to greet him just as she would with any visitor. Inside the temple, they went to a private spot and he told her what had happened, horrifying her.
“Do you want me to go with you?” Carlinda asked him.
“No, there’s no need. I doubt I will have that much to do there.”
“You will need to help keep Tilda calm,” she pointed out. “Even with Danhelm safe, she will be very upset.”
As usual, she was right. “Then that’s what I’ll do. I’ll help however I can. I want to be there to welcome Hanna when she returns.”
Carlinda smiled. “I’m sure she will. I’ll pray to Arwon and inform Preston.”
Hagen gave her a kiss. “Thank you.”
Walking to the guard headquarters, Hagen reflected on how fortunate he was that his current wife and ex-wife got along so well. And that both of his children were fond of Carlinda. He ended up spending over an hour in his office, briefing Eomera and discussing some current investigations and issues.
Back at his house, he packed some clothes into a canvas backpack. When he departed, he was fully armed, including his helmet, shield, and crossbow. Once inside the castle, he left his equipment in the entryway before proceeding to the council room.
Hagen arrived to find Celebern and Mardan arguing, which was hardly unusual, while Daragrim was looking through several sheets of parchment covered with neat handwriting. Ermizad had the kind of determined look that had really begun to worry him. The argument stopped abruptly as he closed the door behind him.
Ermizad’s expression was grave as she addressed him. “We have received a letter, but it makes no mention of either Hanna or Valwyn. I find that disturbing.” She motioned. “Daragrim, please explain the gist of it to Captain Hagen.”
The old elf frowned and rested both his hands on the parchments. “The author of this takes credit for abducting Petra and threatens to kill her if the demands aren’t met within three days. The demands aren’t for money; this is a political manifesto. It demands many things, including: Ermizad stepping down, an elected government, elimination of taxes, jobs for all, housing for all, dissolution of Novox, and the expulsion of all non-humans from the city. And that’s just a small part of it. It’s excessively long and manages to contradict itself numerous times.”
“Is it signed?” asked Hagen.
“Surprisingly, yes. It purports to be from the People’s Freedom Front.”
Ermizad looked at him questioningly. “I’m aware of them,” Hagen responded. “We’ve previously investigated the organization and they appeared harmless. They have occasional meetings where they generally do more socializing and drinking than discussing politics.”
Daragrim tapped the parchments. “This manifesto is very amateurish, and yet the actual abduction was quite professional. This really doesn’t make much sense. It may have been signed that way simply as a diversion.”
Ermizad stood, looking deadly serious. “Captain Hagen, proceed to Rohoville and inform them of the contents of this manifesto. Mardan, please ask Lieutenant Eomera to round up any known members of the People’s Freedom Front for questioning.”
Retrieving his belongings in the entryway, Hagen was surprised when Celebern walked up to him. The man was elegantly dressed as always, but he looked almost grim. “A Novox ship is standing by at the docks for you, Captain. I sent a letter on an earlier ship instructing all Novox employees in Rohoville to assist in the search for the missing girls. I will see if any of my people here know anything about this People’s Freedom Front.”
“Thank you,” said Hagen as he walked out of the castle along with Celebern. “None of this makes any sense to me.”
“I would have to agree. It sounds like the kidnappers took your daughter and Valwyn almost on a whim, which is very unprofessional. It is also incredibly foolish given who their parents are.”
“Kidnapping Petra to get at Ermizad wasn’t very smart either. I doubt that any of those involved are going to remain among the living for much longer. Not if she has anything to say about it.”
Celebern smiled thinly. “That’s one of the things I admire about our dear High Witch. She doesn’t waste time when it comes to meting out punishment.”
♦ ♦ ♦
“Are they going to be all right?” asked Marryn as Medea hugged her tightly. She could feel her daughter trembling.
“I’m sure that they will be fine. They might already have been rescued and we just haven’t heard about it yet.” But that was a lie; Medea was very worried. Even if the girls were rescued, they might already have been abused.
“I didn’t even see Valwyn when she was here!” sobbed Marryn. “What if I never see her again?”
That was Marryn’s fault, not Valwyn’s, but this clearly wasn’t the time to point that out. “I’m sure you will see her again. Hanna and Petra too. Everyone is looking for the three of them. Don’t worry, Marryn.”
Marryn let go and stepped back and looked at her with eyes that were red and puffy. Strands of her long red hair were plastered across her tear-stained face. “Can we go to Rohoville?” she begged. “Maybe we can help.”
This also wasn’t the time to point out that Marryn had repeatedly refused to travel to Rohoville and visit her friends. “Not right now. Maybe later.”
“But someone needs to do something!” Her eyes were wild.
“Hagen is heading there right now, and Ermizad is planning to go tomorrow.”
“Can we go along with Ermizad?” asked Marryn eagerly. “Please!”
Medea smiled at her daughter. “I’ll look into it. Go wash your face and then lie down for a while.”
“All right,” replied Marryn with a trace of a smile.
Medea left her daughter’s bedroom and went out into the sitting area where her son was brooding. “Gabriel, you told me that you spotted Oljot here recently.”
He looked up at her. “Yes. I saw him two days ago.”
“I want you to find him and tell him what has happened. Ask him if there is anything he can do to help.”
Gabriel stood up with a purposeful look. “Yes, Mother. I will go speak with Hankin first. He most certainly knows where Oljot is staying.”
After Gabriel had departed, Medea said a quick prayer and then decided to do some cleaning. She needed to do something to take her mind off of things.
♦ ♦ ♦
In hindsight, Siljan had to admit that it was at least partly her own fault. She had assumed that Rosalind would have no difficulty in traveling to Rohoville from the Witch’s City. After all, it was just a few hour ship ride, and Siljan had even paid for her to have a cabin and food. But the Rosalind that had arrived had been pale and unsteady, requiring assistance to disembark the ship. Halfway there the weather had turned stormy and Rosalind became violently ill, something that Siljan could well sympathize with. Simply getting her to the castle had been a major undertaking, made worse by her own failure to realize that Rosalind would be bringing things with her. (She had hurriedly sweet-talked two city guards into helping.) Rosalind’s newfound confidence seemed to have shattered. She now reminded Siljan depressingly of the timid clerk she had often seen working at Sharp Edges.
Siljan’s mother was a big help at first. Sabrina’s maternal instincts kicked in. She took care of getting Rosalind settled, even managing to get her to eat some soup. But the next day, no one could persuade Rosalind to do anything. She complained that she still didn’t feel well, although Siljan couldn’t find anything wrong with her.
That afternoon, Siljan dragged Rosalind to the castle library to meet Vydan. He promptly declared he didn’t associate with “half-breeds” and certainly wasn’t about to train with one. A furious Rosalind then proclaimed that half-elves were the superior race. (Siljan vaguely recalled Saxloc warning her about that, but she really hadn’t been paying attention.) She sent Rosalind back to her room while she dealt with Vydan. Siljan cal
mly explained things to him using well-reasoned logic—or so she had planned. It was more like an angry tirade on her part that soon had Vydan cringing in fear. She spent the evening wondering how Alessandra and Isadora would react to her bringing back zero cleric candidates, because that was starting to look like a real possibility.
Siljan stood outside Rosalind’s door trying to decide how to tell her what had happened the previous night. The news had been horrifying. She had known Hanna and Valwyn for ages. She didn’t like Petra, but not to the extent of wanting the girl to be abducted.
Her father had been going around making his usual idiotic pronouncements, such as “Kidnapping is not good”, while failing to notice that everyone was basically ignoring him and going about the business of searching for the girls and their abductors. But that was normal. When he did say something that sounded halfway intelligent, it was always preceded by a brief conversation with his wife. He viewed it as consulting her, but Sabrina was actually telling him what to say and do, something she was skilled at after so many years.
After a brief but sincere plea to Kyran, Siljan knocked on Rosalind’s door and then opened it. Rosalind was sitting on her bed with her legs crossed in front of her as she rubbed her left wrist with her right hand. It was a nervous habit that Siljan also vaguely remembered someone telling her about.
“I went down to breakfast,” said Rosalind with a wide-eyed look. “I heard. It’s terrible.”
That Rosalind had left her room by herself was certainly good news, but was well down on the list of important things at the moment. “Yes,” Siljan agreed, “it is.”
Rosalind lowered her head. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said those things yesterday. I lost my temper.”
“What Vydan said was much worse, and he started it. We don’t want someone like him at our temple.”
Her statement clearly surprised Rosalind. “Do you still want me after what I said?”