by JF Smith
The previous night that he had spent back in his cabin had been terrifying. Every sound he heard outside its walls were men coming to cut his tongue out with a hot knife, to reduce him to an animal for sale to a cruel people in a strange land. The night prior to that, frozen in place in the thicket of buckthorn, afraid that any movement or noise would give his position away had been even worse. Leaving the Ghellerweald, he had avoided the road entirely, instead picking his way parallel to it, slowly and carefully. But it had given him time to resolve his next step.
And so he now waited for Roald to arrive home.
He forced himself to sit back down in the chair, avoiding the worst thoughts of all, the thoughts that made it hard to breathe, and refused to give them any form at all in his mind no matter how much they screamed at him.
Thirty minutes later, the sound of a boot on the step outside the door caused him to start and leap up from his chair. Roald barely had time to set his foot inside the door and grin at the unexpected sight of his brother when the words began spilling out of Gully.
“Roald! It’s people! And they’re trading them and the Maqarans are a part of all of this and powerful people in Iisen are profiting—” spouted Gully.
Roald stood back at the maelstrom of words before he interrupted him, saying, “Gully? What in the blazing dawn? You speak as if words were angry hornets! Slow down! I didn’t expect you back for another week or so at least.”
It had no effect. Gully continued spewing what sounded like disturbing yet meaningless nonsense, but Roald had glanced over at the table and saw the dagger lying upon it, causing him to no longer hear his brother. He spied the noble crest on the hilt and interrupted him yet again.
“Oh no, Gully!” cried Roald, heartbroken. “You’re stealing from guards now? You’re stealing their weapons? Will I need to sleep with one eye awake and trained on my coinpurse to keep it safe?”
Gully frowned when he realized Roald had understood none of what he was saying. He scowled and then shouted at him, “Stop! You must listen to me!”
Roald closed his mouth, then gaped at his brother like he didn’t know him anymore. He said, more truly concerned at Gully’s agitation, “What has you so scrambled, Gully? I’ve never seen you so rattled thus before in all our days together! But you must slow down. I can make naught sense of what you’re tripping over yourself to say!”
Gully took a deep breath, closed his eyes and said, “You are right. It’s terrible and I need to pace myself so you can understand.”
Roald began to take his tabard and cuirass off to make himself more comfortable when Gully said, “I know what has happened to all the people who have disappeared! Twenty years and more worth of missing people! I know now!”
Roald stopped, his cuirass still in his hand. He said, utterly incredulous, “You do?”
“Yes! I wish that I did not, but I do! Finish undressing and make yourself comfortable and I’ll tell you how I know.”
Roald finished taking the rest of his swordsman uniform off while Gully filled Roald’s pipe with the Behndish tobacco his brother kept in a pig-leather pouch that hung by the fireplace. When Roald was more comfortable and had seated himself in a chair, Gully handed him his pipe and a tinder stick from the hearth with which to light it. Roald sat on the edge of his chair as he puffed on his pipe a few times, anxious to hear Gully’s tale at a more comprehensible pace.
Gully explained the story of running across the supposed highwaymen in the woods, and their two prisoners. He related freeing the captive men and the chase in the dark woods where he had barely escaped from the two kidnappers, kidnappers that were in veBasstrolle’s Guard unit. He told Roald that these prisoners would have been sold like cattle to the Maqarans.
At the end of the story, an agitated Roald stood from his chair and kneeled next to Gully. He took his hand and said, “This is why I worry that one day I’ll never see you again! Either you’ll be killed in the forest where no one will ever know, or you’ll misstep in the marshes and not be able to pull yourself free, or... or... or be attacked by a wild—”
Gully snapped, “I’m fine, Roald! I’ve always been safer than anyone in the forest! Think about these other people, though! This has been going on since longer than you and I have been alive and I know why! We must stop these people! We must stop veBasstrolle! The man in a monster!”
“So what exactly makes you so sure these were not, in fact, simple robbers with a couple of victims tied up?” asked Roald as he resumed his seat and took up his pipe again.
“Roald, you know well enough that I’ve spied and avoided a fair number of highwaymen before. I know what robbers in the woods look like. These men were swordsmen, not marauders. The dagger confirms it, and I would stake my life on it! And highwaymen don’t treat victims nearly as horribly as these unfortunate men were treated. Bound and naked, their tongues cut out! This was something far more insidious than a mere robbery! And the fact that the letter described what I saw to the last detail proves Lord veBasstrolle himself is at the root of it all!”
Roald frowned and his brow knitted. “Letter? I don’t know to what letter you’re referring. What letter?”
Gully’s face soured at what he was about to have to admit. “You don’t like hearing about these things, but it cannot be avoided this time, so forgive me. I stole a satchel out of the back of veBasstrolle’s carriage when I was last here. Inside, I found a letter addressed to him. Well... addressed to a ‘C’ anyway. The letter described selling ‘animals’ to the Maqarans. It said not to sell too many or it would arouse suspicions. And, Roald, it described cutting the tongues out of those being sold and binding them in silver. These two men that I released had had their tongues cut out, and they were chained in collars that were gilded in sterling silver! The letter was actually speaking of people! People are being butchered and sold into slavery in Maqara!”
“What?!” exclaimed Roald. “This is absolute madness you describe, Bayle! I cannot believe this!” Roald stared off as he thought furiously, trying to find the point where Gully was grossly misinterpreting an innocent letter. He said, “How do you know that this letter was really Lord veBasstrolle’s?”
Gully shrugged his shoulders. “Whose else could it be? It was addressed to ‘C’, and veBasstrolle’s first name is Chelders, is it not? And it was in his personal leather case, with the veBasstrolle crest on it.”
Roald thought for a moment longer as he puffed on his pipe a few times. “But why a collar made of silver? What is the purpose of that? This makes no sense! Show me this letter so I can see for myself!”
“I don’t understand the necessity of the silver collar, either,” said Gully. “But I know silver when I see it, even in faint light.”
Roald said, “I need to see the letter, Gully. Do you have it with you?”
Gully rubbed his hand at the back of his neck sheepishly. “I... well, I burned it.”
Roald stared at him as if he had turned soft in the head in front of him.
“When I found it, I didn’t understand it,” explained Gully, “and I thought it was talking about animals and not people, so I threw it in the fire to get rid of it.”
Roald sighed and Gully added, “I wish I had kept it now. What are we going to do, Roald?”
His brother looked at him helplessly for a moment. “I don’t know what we can do, Gully. I agree we should, but this would be a very serious charge to bring against Lord veBasstrolle without any kind of meaningful evidence to bolster such an accusation. Who wrote the letter to his lordship, do you know?”
“The letter was signed by a K. D., but the initials mean nothing to me. Do you know anyone with those initials?”
Roald’s eyes got bigger and he put his pipe down on the table next to him. “Well, there’s Krayell Delavoor... but he’s the Domo Regent of all of Iisen, Gully. To think he would be involved in something like this is preposterous! To accuse someone like him of complicity in these crimes is the same as accusing the crown! It would mea
n death for us!”
Gully stood speechless. His face reddened as his anger grew. He spewed, “So, your advice is that we do nothing and go about our lives?! That we should let hapless people be stolen away, brutalized, and then sold to a barbaric foreign land to put more money in the pockets of people with too much to begin with? I find it hard to believe—”
“Nay, nay... stop. Of course not, Gully!” said Roald. “That’s not what I’m saying at all. I know you wish to act immediately, and that seems easy enough now that we know what’s going on, but it’s far more complicated than that! This whole situation is naught but honey and thorns, it is!” Roald sighed at how little they had on their side. He said, “I’m saying that we can’t simply go charging in and making accusations based on nothing more than we have now. We’d both be thrown in the gaol faster than it takes to turn the key in the lock for such slander, and you know it!”
Gully sank, knowing his brother was right.
Roald asked, “The two men you said were captive... did you get their names somehow? There’s been no one reported missing in Lohrdanwuld for several weeks now. We got a report from East End to the same effect just yesterday. If these men have been missing for more than a few days, no one has missed them and no one has reported it.”
Gully looked utterly beaten. “No, they could not speak and, in their desire to escape, ran off before I could help them more. I know the truth of what’s happening, Roald, the terrible, evil truth, and no way to convince anyone of it! What am I to do?”
Roald put his hand on Gully’s shoulder to comfort him. “You’ve convinced me, my brother, and I believe you. I really do. I know that you’d never lie to me or even imagine something like this. But until we can get something more substantial to help prove our case, there’s little we can do.” Roald’s brow furrowed as he thought hard. “But little is not the same thing as naught. We have to be careful, though. I still find it unimaginable that someone as important as Lord veBasstrolle could be behind this, but if he is, he is well-organized in it and has unscrupulous men in the Kingdom Guard helping him. I will endeavor to see if I can find out anything about regular trade with Maqara and if veBasstrolle has certain swordsmen that he trusts more deeply than others. I will have to be delicate so as not to arouse suspicion, though.”
Roald sat in thought for quite a while before he focused back on Gully, who was scratching at his palm and hanging expectantly on any new steps that they could take.
Roald’s lips pulled tight as he saw the unspoken worry and fear on his brother’s face. He read the very thought that Gully had pushed from his mind every time it tried to surface. He asked Gully very softly, “You believe this is what happened to your father all these years ago, isn’t it?”
Gully shook, the darkest thought he had fought to keep away now spoken aloud.
“What else could it be, Roald? He may yet be alive,” he said miserably.
Roald reached over again and put his hand on Gully’s head. “I swear to you, Di’taro, I will do all that I can to help put a stop to this and to help you find if this is the truth of what happened to your father. But this is very dangerous ground to tread with the scant evidence we have, as dangerous as the bogs you navigate without even a thought. We don’t even have victims to whom we can point.”
Gully’s eye lit with a fire. “I can—”
“NO!” shouted Roald. “I absolutely do not want you back in that forest, not with this going on! I will not lose you like this! Do not make me suffer what you’ve gone through with your father, Bayle, not if you have even a shred of brotherly affection for me at all!”
Gully scowled angrily at Roald. “The danger to me is no worse that it was two weeks ago, or ever, for that matter! I’m still more adept at navigating the Ghellerweald than anyone. And now I know whom these people are, and they do not know whom I am. I am at a far better advantage than anyone now!”
Roald huffed and growled under his breath, unhappy at the prospect of his beloved brother going back to the woods, and yet unable to refute the logic in Gully’s statements. His heart won over the logic, though, and he said, “I do not want you to leave this city, Bayle! Let me do what I can first, to find out more, then we will decide what steps we may take next.”
Gully frowned at Roald for a full minute, obstinately not wanting to sit around doing nothing. He eventually stood to leave and Roald asked, “Where are you going? I just told you to stay!”
“I promise not to leave the city as you wish,” said Gully, “but there is someone I must go warn to stay away from the Ghellerweald in the meantime!”
Roald softened at the promise and told him, “Take care. Not even the city is safe from men like these as history has shown. And Gully...”
“Yes?”
Gully watched and could almost see the affection his brother had for him start to seep out of him. Roald said, “These two men you freed, whomever they are, are alive today because of your bravery.” Roald paused as he watched his brother a moment more. “You’ve always told me that you’re nothing but an excoriable thief, a Gully Snipe, but the person who would risk what you did to save those men is the person I’ve always seen when I’ve looked on you. They are very lucky men, Bayle.”
Gully’s fair cheek flushed slightly, but he decided he’d wait to tell Roald later that he was stealing from the two swordsmen when he found the captives. He didn’t want to ruin Roald’s moment of seeing him as something more than a petty criminal. He nodded to his foster brother and left the apartment.
~~~~~
A few hours after dark, the wide boulevards of the neighborhood Gully found himself in still had a fair number of people making their way up and down them, coming or going from whatever tower they preferred for paying homage to their ancestors or other errands best performed after dark. The streets here were paved in smooth stones and the hooves of the Belder horses, mules, and half-mules echoed down the street as they clop-clopped their way from one end to the other.
Gully stood in front of one of the more impressive edifices on the street. It was three stories high, the first two stories made of a uniform carved stone, and only the uppermost floor consisted of the more common timber and plaster. There was a wide set of steps that led from the side of the street up to the main door, which was flanked by glowing lanterns. The double front doors each had the crest of the merchant family Allerdaain set into it them.
Through the lowest windows, Gully could see candlelight inside, so he knew the family had not settled in for the night.
He raced up the steps and banged on the door several times. He waited, then hurriedly remembered to lower the hood of his chaperon out of respect.
A few moments later, he could hear the locking mechanism in the door turning and one side of the door opened partway. A bemused servant, a young girl of about his own age and wearing a white apron and a white coif cap in the style of a house servant looked out.
The young maid asked, “Yes?”
Gully knew the answer already, but asked, “This is the house of the merchant Allerdaain, is it not?”
“This is the Allerdaain residence, yes,” she said.
“I must speak to Mariealle, if you please. It is rather urgent,” said Gully. He tried to make it sound as if it was not urgent, but he was not very successful. His fear that the maid would tell him Mariealle had disappeared a few days ago was reaching a fever pitch in his chest.
The maid’s eyes opened very wide at the request, looked back over her shoulder briefly in fear and said, “It is not permitted at this hour. The master of the house strictly forbids visitors of any kind after supper.”
Gully’s hands fidgeted and he said, “It is extremely important that I speak to her. It will only take a moment, I swear.”
The maid was about to reply when there was a booming voice behind her that caused her to nearly jump out of her apron.
“Who in the blazing stars is at the door, Rhooh?” shouted the voice. “At this hour, it had better be the holy s
tar of my father himself seeking entrance!”
The door swung open the rest of the way and the maid, Rhooh, bowed her head and stepped back. A thin man of an imposing height pushed into the doorway and glared down at Gully with beady eyes and a bald head. Even late in the evening, he was wearing a tunic of expensive fabric with a beautifully tailored doublet of dark green.
Gully opened his mouth to explain his request, but the master of the house practically began shouting, “A beggar! With the nerve to accost me on my own doorstep!”
“Please, goodsir—” began Gully.
“Away, you rabble! Or I’ll see to it the captain of the Guard flogs you good, in front of your own family!”
“Goodsir Allerdaain, please,” tried Gully again, “I’m not a beggar and I’m not seeking your charity! I need to speak to Mariealle. It is rather important.”
The mention of his daughter’s name only incensed the merchant even more.
“What?!” he shouted, drawing the attention of every person on the street for a block in either direction. “At this hour? How do you even know my daughter’s name, urchin?”
“We met briefly, once, er... at the market,” said Gully as his hands pulled nervously at the hem of his tunic.
“Bah! My daughter knows far better than to consort, even ‘briefly,’ with wastes like you! Go away, or I’ll flog you myself!”
“But she is in danger!” blurted Gully.
“My daughter has said her prayers to her grandparents and is in her room asleep. She is in no danger at all! The only thing in danger are your hindquarters, which will be swollen and bleeding when I’m done giving you the thrashing of a lifetime! I said be gone!”
And with an offended “humpf,” Goodsir Allerdaain slammed the door shut in Gully’s face and locked the doors loudly. Gully stared at the door and could hear the master of the house shouting at the maid for even having opened it for him to begin with.