by Edun, Terah
“What? Who killed her?”
“The Red Lion guard.”
Ezekiel asked, “Why would they do that?” Confusion reigned on his face.
“I don’t know,” she shouted, waving her sword about and pacing.
“Okay, calm down.”
She gave him a look filled with death.
He shook his head. “You can’t think like this. You have to calm down. Deep breaths. We need to know what threat we face.”
“We,” murmured Sara as she breathed in and out. The one word validated her choice to come here. To seek help.
“We,” echoed Ezekiel firmly, looking at her with compassion and anger in his eyes. He didn’t approach her. He wouldn’t dare do that while she had her bloodied sword at her side, but she could tell just from looking at him that he felt her pain.
“What did they want?” Ezekiel asked.
She reached inside her shirt and pulled out the file. She threw it down on the floor in disgust. “My father’s death records.”
He looked at her horror. “For a guard to come after you so blatantly, there must be something in there they don’t want found.”
He gestured at the file. “May I?”
She nodded. “What do you think you’ll find?”
“Something that links your father to the Red Lions, and maybe something more,” Ezekiel said.
“What about the Corcoran guard?” Ezekiel asked as he reached down to pick up the scattered papers.
“What about them?”
“Was it just attackers from the Red Lion guard?”
“Does it matter?” she said tightly. “They’re all mercenaries.”
He quickly shook his head. “Those companies hate each other. They’re the fiercest rival guards of all the mercenaries. I shudder to think what it would be like to have them on the same battlefield. In case it wasn’t clear, I’d be really surprised if they were working together. So if you saw the guards from both groups together, it’s really bad news for us.”
“It was just the Red Lion guard and his pet necromancer.”
“Which means for now we can hopefully trust the Corcoran.”
She started pacing again as she asked, “What else do you know?”
“Well,” said Ezekiel as he thumbed through some pages, “who’s Farst?”
“What?” she said, distracted.
He waved a page with a death certificate labeled Cabel Farst in large black letters.
“Oh.” She remembered with a wave of her hand. “I stole that to cover up taking the Fairchild file. Look for anything that mentions Vincent Fairchild, my father, instead.”
“Right,” Ezekiel said. “Well, now I know your father was the commander in charge of all the mercenaries on the field of battle.”
She turned to him. “That could be important.”
“I daresay it has to be,” he said as he scanned the file. “As is this.”
She stopped pacing and waiting as Ezekiel began to read aloud. “‘The Red Lions found a temple two miles west of the battlefield, four days before the great battle. Commander Fairchild ordered an investigation.’”
“Why is that important?” she said.
Ezekiel looked over at her. “It says here that he ordered the investigation be opened a day before he was accused of desertion and five days before he died.”
Sara’s mouth tightened in anger. “Then in addition to my mother’s death, the Red Lion guard had something to do with my father’s.”
“Sounds like it.”
“Is there anything else in there?”
“Just a certification of execution,” he said uncomfortably. “Do you want to see it?”
“Just tell me,” she said quietly. “How did he die?”
“By hanging on a low-rising hill,” he replied.
She nodded and turned away to hide the moisture in her eyes. She didn’t want him to think she was weak. She wasn’t weak, and she didn’t have time for tears.
Clearing her throat, Sara said, “What else?”
“An officer signed the death certificate and personally transported your father’s body away for cremation. Officer Matteas Hillan.”
“What about all those other papers in there? That file is stuffed with dozens of single sheets that even the inclusion of the Farst file couldn’t account for,” she said numbly. “Did they rip my father’s journal apart and stuff them in the file?”
When she turned to look at Ezekiel, she saw his face the palest she had ever seen it. “What is it? Did you find the journal entries?”
“No,” said Ezekiel. “They’re blank.”
“What’s blank?” she said.
“All of the rest of the papers,” he said helplessly as he held up blank page after page.
Mouth agape, Sara quickly walked over. “How can that be? You said the mercenaries kept meticulous files.”
“And they do,” assured Ezekiel.
Turning, he grabbed the sheath of papers belonging to the man called Farst that he had set aside. He thumbed through page after page before holding them out to her.
“Look at them. All of these pages are filled. Here’s Farst’s military service record. His honors. His death certificate. His next of kin and even his personal notations.”
Sara stared in disbelief. “Then where are my father’s?”
Ezekiel looked at her and back at the files he held in his hands. One set of files was practically empty of anything. The other bursting with knowledge.
“I don’t know.”
Sara stepped back and set her bloody sword to rest on a nearby bench. Always close at hand.
“None of this makes sense.”
“You’re telling me,” said Ezekiel.
Sara thought aloud. “Why would the Red Lion guard come after me? What do they want with my father’s files? There’s nothing in there. Why is there nothing in there?”
She paced and thought.
“Maybe it’s whatever he was investigating,” offered Ezekiel. “Maybe they thought he had some information on the temple and had put it in his journals.”
“But the journals aren’t in there!” shouted Sara.
“I know,” said Ezekiel. “But they don’t know that.”
“The question is where are they,” said Sara as she paced some more.
Ezekiel muttered so low that she almost didn’t catch it, “Well, where were they last?”
She turned to him as hope sparked amidst the anger raging inside her. “On the field of battle.”
Ezekiel quickly said, “Well, I’m sure they’re not there now.”
“How do you know?” demanded Sara.
“I don’t,” spluttered Ezekiel. “But that was months ago.”
Sara shook her head in irritation. “My father kept his journal close to his heart...always. If he went to his execution willingly, then he had it on him. He knew that the mercenaries were contracted to handle all death benefits. As such they would remove all of his possessions and transport them back to his family. At least they were supposed to.”
“I can see that, but how do you know he went willingly?” ventured Ezekiel.
“Because he had honor,” spat out Sara. “Unlike these damn mercenaries. And besides, if he hadn’t gone willingly there would be a trail of dead bodies from the battlefield to the capital city in his wake.”
Ezekiel couldn’t dispute that.
“So he had the journal on him when he died,” Ezekiel prompted her.
“Which means this Matteas Hillan would know where it is now,” Sara said fiercely.
Ezekiel was silent for a moment before he admitted, “He might.”
“Then I need to find him,” Sara flatly. “Before the Red Lion guard does.”
Chapter 14
“No offense to your awesome planning skills, Sara.” Ezekiel said, “but you have no idea where he is.”
“But we know someone who might,” said Sara darkly.
“We do?”
She looked toward
the door. “Our new watcher is a Red Lion mercenary.”
“That’s true,” Ezekiel said, coming up to stand beside her. “But it’s a large company. He might not have any idea who Hillan is.”
“And he might be his best friend,” said Sara calmly.
Ezekiel nodded and looked over at her with a pained expression on his face. The kind of expression that said he really hoped she wasn’t going to kill someone.
“Look I’m just going to talk to him,” she explained. “If he’s amicable, nothing unsavory needs to happen.”
Ezekiel narrowed his eyes while crossing his arms. “And if he’s not?”
Sara turned her dark gaze on him. “I’m going to find out what happened to my father whether you help me or not. Whether this man is willing to tell me or not.”
“All I’m saying is don’t put the cart before the horse, and don’t kill a Red Lion guard and bring the whole company down on your head in retaliation,” he said flatly.
She cocked her head. “What makes you think I haven’t already?”
A frustrated look crossed Ezekiel’s face. “This is nothing to joke about.”
“I’m not joking. I killed a rithmatist and a necromancer on the same night. They should fear me. I’m not sure the necromancer had anything to do with the Red Lion guard, but the rithmatist did, and they’re certainly aware he’s dead now. So I need every piece of information that I can get before I leave this city. Got me?”
Ezekiel nodded reluctantly.
“Can you call him in?”
Ezekiel unfolded his arms and walked to his door to stick his head out. She paced away and back before the new watcher came back in.
As he walked through the door, the mercenary took in her agitated state. She knew her clothes, stiff with blood, didn’t help matters. His hand tensed near his weapon, but he didn’t stop Ezekiel from closing the warehouse door.
Standing between Ezekiel and Sara, the man was silent. She didn’t move toward him because she knew it would be taken as an outright threat.
Instead she spoke from where she stood. “I’m not here to hurt you. I just need some information.”
The man’s face turned to stone. “Is that why you hired me? For information?”
Sara tensed. “No, actually. Some interesting developments have recently come to light tonight, though, and I believe you’re just the man to help shed more light on them.”
He turned to her fully and said, “I don’t know you. Why should I help you?”
Sara was tempted to kick him in the shin and bring him to his knees with her knife at his throat. But she restrained herself. Barely.
Ezekiel read the tension in her body and quickly stepped around to face his new watcher.
“Because we can pay you. I can pay you. Mercs like money, right?” he said.
The man spared him a glance. “How much money?”
“Enough to make your next week one to remember,” said Ezekiel.
The man cracked his knuckles and then slowly relaxed. “Now we’re talking.”
Sara took a step forward and the mercenary quickly pointed a warning finger.
While looking at her he said, “But you stay where you are. No offense, but you look like trouble.”
Sara shrugged. “None taken.” She was.
She caught Ezekiel’s eye and gave him a thankful nod.
Out of his bag, Ezekiel fetched a coin purse, which he handed over to the mercenary.
The man hefted the purse in his hand, checking the weight of the coins without peering into the bag. The bag obviously weighed enough because the mercenary looked up, satisfied.
“Ask away.”
Sara swallowed tensely. “Do you know a Red Lion mercenary named Matteas Hillan?”
“Yes,” said the man. “What do you want with him?”
“Just some information,” Sara replied.
“About him or from him?” questioned the mercenary.
“Why?” Sara asked with a lifted eyebrow. “You his lover?”
The man snorted. “No. But I ain’t going to send a fellow mercenary to his death, either.”
“How touching,” Sara said, “Most mercenaries don’t have any loyalties. If they do it’s tied to their coin purse.”
Her eyes flickered to the heavy purse he now held in his hand.
He glared at her but didn’t respond.
“Do you know where Mercenary Hillan is now?” Sara asked.
“Still deployed in the battles to the east,” he answered.
“Under what commander?”
“Kansid for now.”
“Why ‘for now?’” Ezekiel quickly interjected.
The mercenary spared him a glance. “Changeover in leadership in three days when Captain Simon of the damn Corcoran guard takes over.”
He barely restrained himself from spitting to the side at Simon’s name and Sara suspected the restraint was only because they weren’t standing on a dirt floor. Meanwhile, her eyes lit up at the news.
Then she frowned. “Why would that matter? The Red Lion guard doesn’t serve under Corcoran captains. They’re two different mercenary companies.”
The man hooked his thumb in his belt. “New rules from the mages. I heard they got tired of the different leaders of the companies. Wanted a smoother rank and file structure to boss around. What they’re going to get is their asses handed to them when the mercenaries revolt.”
Ezekiel muttered, “Can’t say you’re wrong about that. You mercenaries really hate working together cross-company.”
Sara mumbled. “So from now on the Red Lion guard and the Corcoran troops are going to be led by one man?”
The mercenary nodded. “Captain Barthis Simon.”
“And Mercenary Hillan will stay deployed under Simon’s command?” she demanded.
“For the next two months, yeah,” said the mercenary in front of her. “He has no choice. Can’t leave until his company does. They’re due back in Sandrin a little over six weeks from now.”
Sara nodded. “Thank you. That’s all I needed.”
And it was true. She knew what she had to do.
Ezekiel said to him, “Would you mind hanging out in the back of the warehouse? We’re through for tonight.”
The man jangled his coin purse. “No problems here. Can I take the cot?”
Ezekiel glanced over at him with a disinterested look. “Yeah, have yourself a nice rest, too.”
The man walked off, content.
Ezekiel walked up to Sara. “I know that look.”
“What look?” she said, feigning innocence. It was hard to accomplish when she was covered in blood and still carrying her sword.
“The look that says you have a plan.”
Sara dropped the pretense and looked at him seriously, “I do.”
“Well, let’s hear it.”
“I don’t want to involve you any further in this, Ezekiel.”
“Because you don’t trust me?” he asked with a sharp look.
She nearly cursed aloud. “Of course not. I just don’t want you to get hurt. If the Red Lion guard came looking for you to get to me, I would never forgive myself.”
“Don’t worry about it,” he said, “I have my own hideouts in the city.”
“You’re sure?”
“Yes,” he said firmly.
She hesitated and then said with fire in her eyes. “I’m going to join the Corcoran guard.”
“To find Hillan,” he said unsurprised.
“Exactly,” she replied.
“It makes sense.” She could hear the reluctance in his tone. But, to her surprise, no condemnation.
She nodded. “If he’s serving on the edge of the war front, then there are very few ways for me to get out there. The regular military would never take me on but the mercenaries are hard up for good people that also happen to be battle mages.”
“There aren’t that many of you in the empire,” he said ruefully. “Looks like all two dozen are going to be fighting
each other for this stupid war of the mages.”
Sara shrugged. “I’ll get in and get out quickly. I just need to ask Hillan a question after all. Getting there will take a couple days, add a week for incidents, and I should be back in Sandrin.”
“Where the Red Lion guard is waiting to kill you?”
She shook her head. “Oh, don’t worry. I’ll take care of them as soon as I get back with my father’s journals and secrets in hand. They won’t get away with what they did.”
For a second a hate so furious crossed her face that Ezekiel took an involuntary step back.
“You need to focus on getting to that information and Hillan before they do,” he said, “Retribution will come after.”
She stared at him and let out a slow breath. “You’re right.”
As she calmed, an anxious look crossed his face.
“What is it?” she asked.
Reluctantly, he said, “What about your gifts?”
“What about them?”
He rubbed the back of his neck. “You. Your powers. People trying to kill you. Need I spell it out?”
He was talking about her battle rage, she knew.
“I’ll handle it,” she said with defiance.
“And if you can’t?” he asked, “If you go berserk?”
“Then I’ll die fighting like every single one of my forefathers. Fighting for a cause or fighting one man, it makes no difference. But if I don’t do this, Ezekiel, I will regret it for the rest of my life. Regret not knowing what my father uncovered and what the Red Lion guard would fight so hard to hide.”
He swallowed so deeply that she could see his Adam’s apple bobbing. “I understand.”
“Hey!” said the mercenary. His abrupt shout was so loud that they both startled.
This entire building is like a giant amplifier, Sara thought as she remembered the blast that busted Edgar the thief’s eardrums.
Turning, Ezekiel and Sara looked to him.
“What?” she called out.
“You got any water?” he said.
Ezekiel and Sara looked at one another.
“Yeah,” she began to answer.
Ezekiel looked up at the roof and whistled.
In a dry tone, Sara said, “You forgot to refill the barrel, didn’t you?”
“Maybe,” said Ezekiel with an awkward shuffle.
“Well?” shouted the mercenary.