by Ben Cassidy
The man took a step back. “Your man has locked himself inside with the Baron. We haven’t—”
Kendril yanked out one of his pistols. He snapped back the lock and pointed the weapon at the door’s lock.
The gendarmes scurried out of the way.
Kendril fired.
The area around the lock shattered into pieces. Smoke from the firearm filled the dim hallway.
Another scream came from inside.
Kendril took a quick step forward and planted a solid kick onto the door right by the handle.
There was a sharp crack. The door swung inwards.
Kendril launched into the room. One of his hands reached for a sword, the spent pistol still in his other fist.
He stopped cold.
Baron Dutraad was tied to a chair. Blood streamed from his nose. There was a large red welt on the side of his face.
Joseph stood over him. One clenched fist was raised in the air, ready to descend in a powerful blow.
Kendril took his hand off the sword. “Joseph!”
Olan came into the room, his sword out and at the ready.
Joseph turned his head to face them. His face was filled with intense fury. “Get out!” he yelled. “Get out, do you hear? I’ll make him talk, if I have to beat him to a bloody pulp.”
“He’s mad!” Dutraad shrieked. “Get him off me!”
Olan took a step forward.
Kendril grabbed the Ghostwalker’s arm to stop him.
Olan wrenched out of his grasp. “Let go of me. It’s one of yours, of course. One of your team.”
“Then let me handle it.” Kendril looked back at his friend. “Joseph, this isn’t helping.”
“He knows,” Joseph snarled. “He knows where Kara is, and by Eru I’m tired of sitting around and waiting for him to tell us.”
Kendril pocketed his pistol and raised both his hands. “Come on, Joseph. This isn’t you. You were the one telling me that you didn’t want Dutraad tortured.”
“That was before they took Kara,” Joseph spat.
“And what if Kara was here right now?” Kendril said. He took a step closer. “Would you want her to see you like this?”
Joseph turned his head away.
“This isn’t the way, Joseph. Not yet, anyway.” Kendril took another step closer, then slowly put a hand on Joseph’s shoulder. “And trust me, if it comes to that, Tomas knows how to get answers better than anyone.”
Joseph slowly lowered his fist. He looked at Olan, then back at Kendril. “They don’t care what happens to her, Kendril. You know they don’t.”
Olan lowered his sword, but kept it in his hand. “We’re dealing with a possible Despair here, and you’re worried about one person? The whole city—”
“I’m not talking about the city.” Joseph looked Kendril in the eyes. “I’m talking about Kara.”
Kendril returned his friend’s gaze. “I’ll get her back, Joseph. I told you that I would.” He glanced down at Dutraad’s battered face. “But this won’t help us. If we’re going to find Kara we need to keep our heads.”
Joseph clenched his fist, but didn’t raise it again. He turned.
The gendarmes stood in a cluster just inside the door to the room.
“Get out of my way,” Joseph growled as he moved towards them.
They did.
Joseph moved out into the hall and leaned up against the wall, his face between his arms.
Kendril moved out behind him.
“I’m sorry,” Joseph said. “I lost it.”
Kendril shrugged. “Dutraad had it coming. Believe me, I wouldn’t mind carving him a new face myself.”
Joseph dropped his arms and turned, pushing his back against the wall. He sighed and looked up at the ceiling. “If anything…happened to Kara, I…don’t—” He stopped, and looked down forlornly at the ground.
“I know,” Kendril said simply.
“We don’t have any leads, do we?” Joseph looked up at his friend. His face was shadowed from lack of sleep. “Dutraad’s not talking, and we have no idea where Bronwyn is. And tonight’s the new moon.”
Kendril leaned up against the wall next to the scout. He crossed his arms. “That’s about the size of it.”
Joseph closed his eyes. “We have to think. There has to be something we’re missing.” He breathed in and out slowly. “When you hunt an animal in the wilderness, you learn its habits, follow its tracks, study its environment—” He opened his eyes. “Has anyone searched the rooms upstairs?”
Kendril thought for a second. “Not thoroughly.” He looked over at Joseph. “Now that would be helpful. There might be something we overlooked.”
Joseph nodded. “I’ll get on it.” He pushed away from the wall.
Olan emerged into the hall. His sword was sheathed again. “Dutraad’s furious,” he said, his eyes on Joseph. “I’ll go back and smooth things over with Potemkin and the mayor.” His gaze shifted to Kendril. “I suggest you get your team in order, Ghostwalker.”
Kendril gave an unconcerned lift of his shoulders. “Well I was going to let Joseph go back in there and beat Dutraad some more, but now that you mention it, maybe that is a bad idea.”
Olan’s face tightened in displeasure. “Watch yourself, Kendril. I’ve had just about enough of your flippant attitude.”
Kendril straightened. His voice dropped a notch. “Then maybe you should worry less about a few cuts and bruises on the precious Baron and more about tracking down the cult that is trying to usher in the Fourth Despair.”
Olan’s face went pale with anger. “We both know who lost the Soulbinder, Kendril. And when Despair comes on this city, we’ll both know who let it walk right in.”
A terrible expression came over Kendril’s face. He took a step towards Olan.
“Gentlemen.”
Kendril and Olan both swiveled their heads.
A gendarme had appeared in the hall. He pointed back the way he had just come. “There’s something Captain Potemkin wants you both to see.”
Chapter 9
“When the eye closes, Despair rises.” Kendril lowered the yellowed piece of paper. He flipped it over in his hand and examined the back. “There’s nothing else.”
“It’s enough, isn’t it?” said Madris.
Olan looked up at Potemkin. “Where did you get this?”
“It was found in the clothes chest of one of my gendarmes, over in the eastern district. My men found it when they performed a surprise kit inspection.” The gendarme captain eyed Kendril carefully. “What does it mean?”
“Trouble.” Kendril put the paper down on the table in front of him. “The gendarme?”
“Under arms,” Potemkin confirmed. “The lead officer of that barracks, Lieutenant Jajaren, has reported that the man is babbling incoherent nonsense. He keeps talking about Despair and the return of the goddess.”
“Where’s the Lord Mayor?” Olan looked about the room as if expecting the man to suddenly appear.
“He’s returned to the City Hall.”
Kendril glanced out the windows. It was already mid-morning. “The Bands?”
Potemkin shook his head. “It’s just my gendarmes for now. And…you.” He cleared his throat. “I should warn you, the Lord Mayor is appealing to Varnost. If he had his way, I’d be rounding up the lot of you right now.”
Madris glanced over at Kendril with a thin smile. “And you were inquiring why I didn’t use the writ of authorization before now?”
Kendril moved back from the table. “I have to ask, Captain. Are you and your men with us?”
Potemkin raised a bushy eyebrow. “With you? I follow the orders of my mayor and my King, Ghostwalker. The safety of this city is my primary concern, and as long as we are of common purpose in that regard, then yes, I am with you.” His tone softened. “As long as I am not ordered to the contrary, my men and I will cooperate with you. You have the authority of the King, which I will not question. I should warn you, however, that if the Lord
Mayor receives clarification from Varnost in respect to your writ of authorization, I will be beholden to his instructions.”
“In other words,” Kendril said with a bitter smile, “you’re our friend until you’re ordered to arrest us.”
“To be fair,” Potemkin said with no trace of levity, “I’ve already been ordered to arrest you. But the King’s authority outweighs even the Lord Mayor’s. Make no mistake, however, if you or any of your order attempts anything to harm this city or its inhabitants, you will have to go through me and my men first.”
“How many gendarmes do you have?” Kendril asked.
Potemkin thought for a moment. “One couple hundred or so, I would guess. Spread across the city.” He grabbed his hat off the table. “Though with recent events, there’s no telling how many men we can actually trust.”
“You believe us about the cult, then?” Madris asked diplomatically.
Potemkin gave the elderly Ghostwalker a steely glare. “I believe that there is a cult operating here in Vorten, yes. Apparently the Lord Mayor and I are of differing opinions on that matter. As to the rest of what you’re talking about, demons and goddesses and such, I admit I have greater degree of skepticism.”
“Hopefully we won’t have to prove our point,” Kendril mumbled He picked up the message and examined it again. “We need a location. Where Bronwyn and her allies are operating from. If we know where they are we can hit them hard and fast.” He glanced away from the note. “But we’re running out of time.”
Potemkin looked over at Kendril and Olan. “There is one other item. I am afraid I will have to insist that you to relinquish Baron Dutraad back into my custody. His lordship is still a man of importance in this city, and has not been charged with any crimes. I cannot allow the kind of treatment that occurred earlier to happen again.”
Olan glared at Kendril.
Kendril took a step forward. “It was a mistake, Captain, I agree. But we need—”
“That was not a request, Ghostwalker.”
Kendril stopped short.
Madris nodded slowly. “Baron Dutraad will be returned to your keeping, Captain. On behalf of my order, I apologize for what happened to him. I only ask that you keep him under strict confinement and close guard, if for no reason than his own protection.”
Dutraad tucked his hat under his arm. “From what I have seen, that seems a reasonable enough request for the time being.”
“Thank you.” Madris limped over to the window, and looked out over the blanket of snow that stretched out across the estate’s yard.
“The note,” Potemkin said after a moment of silence. “What does it mean?”
“The eye closes is the new moon,” Kendril said. “As for Despair rises, the meaning of that phrase depends on how much you believe in fairy tales, Captain.”
“Right.” Potemkin clicked his heels together, then marched out of the room, followed by two of his gendarmes.
The three Ghostwalkers were left alone.
“Your friend just destroyed the best chance we had to find the Soulbinder,” Olan snarled at Kendril. “If we could interrogate Dutraad—”
“We have been interrogating Dutraad.” Madris turned from the window and walked slowly over towards the table. “We’ve been going at him for hours with no success. What happened is unfortunate, but it hardly cripples us. I doubt Dutraad even knows where his wife and the witch are.”
“All the same,” said Kendril quietly, “I apologize for Joseph’s actions. Kara is a…close friend of his. He lost his temper. It’s not like him at all. He’s one of the most level-headed men I’ve ever known.”
“Coming from you,” Olan said with a laugh, “that hardly means much, does it?”
Kendril ignored Olan’s comment. He collapsed into one of the seats by the table. “So what do we do now?”
“You saw the letter. Our enemies are moving soon. Tonight, probably.” Madris passed a hand over her pale face. She looked suddenly much older and more feeble. “They will undoubtedly attempt to utilize the Soulbinder. Our only chance is to find the pendant first and prevent any ritual from occurring.”
“We can’t search the whole city,” Olan said bitterly.
“Honestly,” said Madris with a cautionary glance at the door, “if we had succeeded in covertly capturing Dutraad I would have had Tomas interrogate him more…thoroughly. As it is that option is no longer available to us.” She gave Kendril a weak smile. “Another disadvantage to using the writ. It ties our hands.”
“Speaking of the writ,” Kendril said as he leaned forward in the chair, “will the King in Varnost uphold its authority after he receives the mayor’s appeal?”
There was a uncomfortable silence.
Madris gave a heavy sigh. “In truth, I do not know. The writ is a last resort. The King signed it years ago. I doubt he even remembers doing it. But there is little doubt that we are stretching the limits of what he might be willing to sanction.”
“That doesn’t sound very promising,” Olan said in a grating voice.
“By the time the King will be able to respond, the situation here in Vorten will have tipped one way or the other. Either we will have found the Soulbinder and killed this witch of Kendril’s, or…”
“Or,” Kendril finished, “we will be in the middle of another Despair.”
Madris gave a grim nod. “In the meantime, we need to continue to work with Captain Potemkin and his gendarmes. They have the manpower we need, especially if we are dealing with a large underground cult and a widespread conspiracy in the city.”
“What we need,” growled Olan, “are the city’s militia regiments.”
“I hate to say it,” said Kendril with a scowl, “but I agree with Olan. The Lord Mayor needs to call up the Trained Bands. We can’t take any chances.”
Madris gave a curt shake of her head. “You heard him. He won’t do it. And there’s no way we can force him. We’ll have to make do with Potemkin and his gendarmes for now.”
“Until they turn on us,” Kendril added gloomily.
“We’ll deal with that when and if it happens.” Madris looked up at the two Ghostwalkers. “No sense worrying about it now. We have bigger problems before us. Finding this Bronwyn and retrieving the Soulbinder is still our first priority. Now we have the help of Potemkin and his gendarmes, however lackluster it may be. He at least seems to understand that there is a real threat.”
“Unlike the honorable Lord Mayor,” Olan interjected.
“The Lord Mayor doesn’t believe.” Madris glanced out again at the gently falling snow. “And if we handle things correctly, he won’t have to change his attitude. Once we have the Soulbinder again we can blend back into the shadows from where we came, and the Lord Mayor can continue to doubt everything to his heart’s content.”
“Mark my words,” Kendril said, “we’ll all be wishing we had those regiments before this is over.”
Madris frowned. “Forgive my optimism, Kendril, but I still hope that sentiment is premature.” She glanced over at Olan. “Coordinate with Potemkin, as much as you are able. If you can, convince him to shake down the local taverns and inns with his gendarmes. Any evidence of cults or cult members, and I want you or Wanara to investigate it personally. It may lead us to the witch.”
Olan nodded his agreement. “Sounds good. What about the gendarme they caught over in the eastern part of the city? The one with the note?”
Madris lowered herself slowly into a chair. “If Potemkin will let you, send Tomas to get any information you can out of him.”
Kendril gave a biting half-smile. “You don’t sound too optimistic.”
Madris gave a weary sigh. “I’m not. This witch of yours seems too cunning to be caught that easily. Still, we have to try. She might have made a mistake, or if not her then Lady Dutraad.” She signaled to Olan. “Eru guide you, Olan.”
The Ghostwalker gave the old woman a salute, then turned from the room.
Kendril started to go as well.
“A moment,” Madris said.
Kendril paused.
“Your friends,” Madris continued, “your…team. Do they know what they have gotten themselves into?”
Kendril faced the elder Ghostwalker. “I’ve explained to them what the Soulbinder is, what it is capable of. They know about the Wars of Despair. I think it’s fair to say they know what is at stake.”
“But they’re not Ghostwalkers.”
Kendril looked away. “No.”
Madris leaned her cane against the table. Her eyes were kind but sad. “You knew what you were signing up for when you became a Ghostwalker, Kendril.”
“You mean the women, wine, and song?” Kendril grinned. “Can’t say I’ve been disappointed.”
Madris did not return his smile. “Joseph, Maklavir, Kara. None of them are Ghostwalkers. They have not committed to the same vows, the same penance that you have.”
Kendril’s quick grin disappeared. “I trust each of them with my life, Madris.”
“I have no doubt.” Madris twisted the handle of her cane. “It is not their loyalty to you I question. It is your loyalty to us.”
Kendril was silent for a long moment. “I think you had better elaborate, Madris.”
“I know you would be willing to sacrifice yourself if the need arose.” Madris let go of her cane and fixed Kendril with a penetrating glance. “But what if you had to sacrifice one of them to stop the Despair?” She gripped the end of the cane where it rested against the table. “Could you?”
Kendril bit his lip. He didn’t meet the woman’s gaze. “You mean Kara.”
“Yes,” Madris responded in a kindly tone. “And Joseph. And Maklavir. I can see that they are your friends, Kendril. You have no doubt come through much with them, suffered and fought together, formed bonds of friendship with one another.” She sighed. “This Despair will test us all, Kendril, and it might well test you more than everyone. Stopping the witch, recovering the Soulbinder, preventing the Despair…these things are more important than any one of us.”
Kendril crossed his arms. He still did not make eye contact with Madris. “You sound like you’ve been talking to Olan.”