“Zoey! You’re a floating head!”
At least she surprised him. With all her remaining strength, she lunged forward, losing her footing and stumbling around him like a tumbleweed with his shocked eyes following her. She rounded herself back up onto her feet, knees giving up. She releasing her invisibility before all her strength completely sapped away and slogged through the sand toward the boat. If she wasn’t in such danger, she’d be flushed red with embarrassment. Thanks to the Goddess, Josie didn’t have to see that.
“Wait, Zoey,” he called after her as two men appeared from on top the boat, one clothed completely in a Shadows uniform. The other clothed in the same uniform except for his exposed head. His short silvery hair danced in the breeze, his permanent sneer of amusement carved onto his face, and that craggy scar that ran from his forehead over his right eye to his cheek, regrettably missing his eye. Zeth, her sect’s toxicologist.
But she made it, clambering up the ramp of the boat and grabbing hold of the fully clothed man instead of Zeth.
“Roe, Roe,” he exclaimed, his voice sounding like Bran. “You OK?”
“I’m bleeding, I’m bleeding,” she repeated showing him the blood smear on her hand and blood-soaked shirt, now dripping to the floor of the boat.
“I…maybe it’s the light, I don’t see any blood—”
“Who’s that man, Roe,” came Zeth’s bemused tone. She already knew what answer he was looking for —that Papp was someone he could kill.
She turned over her shoulder. Papp stood there, hiding his knife behind his back. Of course, he would hide it now.
“Who are your friends, Zoey,” Papp said with his irritatingly friendly voice. “Are you safe now? Can I go?”
“Zoey,” Zeth repeated, sounding disappointed. He was probably hoping Papp knew about them, knew she was a Coming Shadows agent, and that he’d have to be killed. But, Sago —Papp— did know. Sorry, Night Lady.
“He knows me,” she mouthed, exhaustion taking over as she slumped into the Bran’s arms.
Zeth’s grin widened as he walked off the boat. “Oh, Zoey will be fine, my friend. Say, can I see that knife…,” his voice trailed off.
“Come on, Roe,” Bran said, helping her along. “Let’s get you inside and cleaned up. We’ll leave for the Golden Island tonight.”
***
To Ed’s relief, he slept soundly, and aside from having two maintenance workers rebuild the wall and door he had punched and pulled apart, the morning unfolded in its usual splendid routine. He had just completed his morning inspections and sent his aid off on some errand to keep him busy while he hurried to the weekly breakfast with his Captains, two men and a mage woman who had been with him here in Ruby City since the beginning. They trusted Ed, and in turn, he trusted them. Never so much as now did he need some time around trusted people. And with the investigation in full gear, no one who knew anything would speak with him. Maybe they –maybe Captain Olsen would. Glen’s words had rattled Ed the day before, but aside from having a key to the back jail door, there was no proof of him letting her go. No, there was something else troubling Ed.
The night he let Araa go, Captain Olsen and his soldiers were on duty and Predt had said that a brawl in town had forced Oslen to leave the jails and secure the unrest. Coincidences, Ed hated them and his experience told him never to trust them. They more often than not pointed to something important but rarely to the obvious. This led to a nagging doubt in his mind, a splinter that despite him trying to explain it away, always remained: did Araa trick him? She wasn’t like Ninn; that much was certain, but Ed poured over the one book of the Northern Islanders he could find for clues. They were said to be more serious, aggressive, and single-minded, locked in a longstanding skirmish with the Glacial Barbarians on the Northern Ice Shelf further north. But if she tricked him, her exposure was certainly real. Could she had been sent in by Sig only to fail and become exposed? A spy would be more careful. spy would be less patient then waiting seven months to do any actual spying.
Ed grumbled. “Not enough information,” he said to himself as he walked the short path from his barrack to the Garrison Keep. The sun was cold with a brisk mountain wind promising a cold and dry winter. Supply runs to Sat’r and Faf’r wouldn’t be interrupted as much as years before, giving the Beast project the best possible conditions to be ready by spring. The Keep would become a busy place too.
And this late into the morning, it had become busy with staffers and runners hustling with their memo deliveries. They would stop and give hasty salutes before giving Ed the right of way. At the Keep’s doors stood two heavily armed sentries, Polk and Anteas, wearing the military’s expensive magically ward imbued armor. What a waste, magically imbuing anything for soldiers was ridiculously inefficient. One mage —if they were affordable— imbued one item at a time, and then the imbuing would only be good a few days if the user kept good care of it. If the mage was talented and rested, maybe longer. Ed could hear the magic humming off their armor and suppressed a snort; they would have to imbue it all over again. And for what? For a noble who might come by?
Ed had spent years saving his pay to imbue his one old-style armor set for courtly functions, only to have a ward-imbued vambrace dispel its ward protection from a fall to the ground. Again, what a waste, but Niklas would certainly appreciate them.
The two sentries saluted and Ed passed inside going direct to his usual conference room, a small windowless room with a central table and a few couches.
The three were already there, and upon entering, they each stood. “At ease,” Ed said. Thankfully, coffee, tea and pastries were already on the table, so he closed the door and locked it.
“Now we can begin,” Captain Mathis Greener, a massively muscular man with crisscrossing scars all over his face, said over the table as he took a piece of cake from the tray. A competitive swordsmen and a noble from Prince Advin’s princedom, he carried his family’s rapier on him always. Ed had thought he was given this assignment to keep a close watch over them for the nobles, but Mathis proved that he brought some of Advin’s skill in engineering and construction with him. Otherwise, they would have to depend on Sat’r’s industry, not a welcomed idea.
Captain Mariam Marabaunze stood in the corner under a wall-fixed lantern sipping her cup of tea. Wearing a dark gray robe similar to the magistrates’ over her tightly fitted captain’s uniform, the tall southern woman represented one of the few fully capable battle-mages in the entire army. But being one of the few true battle mages made her in a bit of an orphan with no true troop of her own. Same problem Gene would have faced had she not been a priest. As a leader, her skills would be wasted; as a soldier, her skills would be difficult to incorporate into a team. But her intelligence, however, was her real gift, Ed came to know. And Captain Tham Olsen, an older veteran with more white than red on his short hair and closely shaved beard, sat with his arms closed, his stomach separating him from the table and a gloomy expression on his face. He, undoubtedly, had to endure the ‘civilitiess’ of Central Office in their investigation more than any of them. That night Ed let Araa escape, it was his troops that were supposed to be there at the jails, but another ‘appearance’ of Miss Summers at a tavern brawl that escalated into a fire caused Olsen to summon those troops to help, leaving the jails empty except for Predt and Mister Winters.
Ed poured himself a cup of coffee. “You didn’t have to wait for me.”
“We’ve heard the news,” Olsen said, gruffly.
“News?”
“You’re getting kicked out for that smug Niklas Doryene,” Marabaunze spoke with her small subtle voice. “Why haven’t you told us?”
Ed took a sip, waiting for the warmth to reach his stomach before answering, “because we’re soldiers, Captain, in the service of our Prince, for the preservation of our lands, and defense of our people. Who is above us or below us shouldn’t matter.”
“None of us got reassigned,” Greener said, sitting down at the table. “Two garri
sons worth of soldiers? Going to get crowded here. Any word why? Reports haven’t shown anything dangerous around here enough to skip a rock at.”
“It’s because of that blasted girl,” Olsen barked.
Greener and Marabaunze looked to Ed for confirmation. Ed closed his eyes and nodded.
Marabaunze blew over her tea. “Changing out the head of command isn’t going go as smoothly as they think. A waste of time, resource, and logistical reorganizing. And for what? A missing girl whose bones will be found thawing out next spring? You saw her condition, Major. She could barely scratch her nose without cramping up in pain. She’s dead, along with our secret.”
“She’s been found,” Ed said, the three snapping looks at him. “Heard it from Glen. In Faf’r. They’ll get her back in a day or two.”
Marabaunze and Greener returned to their simmering cups while Olsen cursed, tightening his crossed arms.
“Then is our secret out,” Greener asked what they were all thinking. “Was all this for nothing?”
“We don’t know,” Ed said quickly. “Or at least, I don’t know. Glen told me they’re planting rumors, so there’s good reason to think she didn’t say anything too specific.”
“Still asinine to rearrange the armies,” Olsen said, frowning all the more. “Araa, if they find her alive is more likely to be a mass of blabbering insane dribble. And now, Sat’r will be left without any significant troop presence. We all know how bad that place can be.”
“If they’re worried about Sig knowing what we have here, it’s sound strategy,” Marabaunze added, letting her eyes linger a bit longer on Ed before turning back to her tea. She was probably reading his face for clues; Ed knew she was smart enough, but that she tried reading his face gave him pause. Did she believe that rumors about him letting Araa go? “Whether she’s a ‘mass of blabbering insane dribble’ or not, if Sig learns of the Beast, he has enough force around the Golden Island to come directly here in a week. At least with all our soldiers here, we might shake his confidence a little. He won’t bother Sat’r and if Ruby City falls, Sat’r in criminal hands might keep that city out of Sig’s hands.”
“So that’s it,” Greener added. “This is to be our last stand?”
Ed waved his arm. “We’re all getting ahead of ourselves. Araa isn’t some cloak and dagger spy, nor would anyone believe her. She got herself exposed for Almighty’s sake, and I was exposed too, several months ago. I can tell you half the time, I had no idea what I was saying. I think it’s safe to say our secret is still remains with us.”
The room fell silent and judging by Marabaunze meditating on her tea, Greener flicking his nails against his cup, and Olsen staring down some invisible enemy across from him, they didn’t seem optimistic. But Ed was, or rather he had to be, because if he wasn’t optimistic it would mean Araa had deceived him. He wasn’t willing to consider that.
“I will say the Office has taken a chunk of my manpower,” Greener added, almost as an afterthought. “I don’t even know what they’re doing with them, some work on the investigation.”
Ed straightened off the door. “They’re keeping you in the dark?”
They all nodded.
“Not you, Marabaunze,” Ed said. “I didn’t sign off on them take any of yours. You’re overseeing the Beast project. Everyone’s got to be there till spring.”
“They’ve taken people from all of us,” she answered, walking over to refresh her tea. “Orders from General Arishia Sune—
“Sune? No, that can’t be. She has more important things to do than order Captains.”
“Apparently ordering the three of us is important to her,” she answered, blowing steam off her tea. “We’ve all received letters from her directly ordering us to cooperate with Central Office. I haven’t been able to speak to any of mine, either. Apparently, keeping you in the dark is important as well.” Her tone turned suspicious at the end.
“And those bastards at Central Office are lording this over us,” Olsen said, his eyes narrowing. “One of ours, Sune no less, telling us to do what they say. Preposterous days. And they know you’re leaving, Major, so they’ll set themselves up as kings before Niklas arrives. This is our mistake. She left on our watch. We should be the ones searching for her.”
“I hate to say it,” Marabaunze said, raising an eyebrow at Ed. “But I think we gave Sune and the Office everything they needed to ‘lord it over us.’” So that was what Marabaunze was hinting at, Ninn.
“A man can’t have a history,” Ed rose his voice before downing his now cold coffee. “Yes, I had my arguments with Sune’s father when he ran the military. It was over another Islander, a former subordinate of mine who deserved better for what he got. If they suspect my judgment over Araa because of my loyalty to my troop, so be it. By spring, none of this will matter anyway.”
“General Order One,” Marabaunze’s small voice struck him in his chest.
“I…. Yes, I would have don’t it.”
“Would have?”
“I gave the order to Doctor Alexander to put her to sleep,” Ed explained. “Seemed prudent since Araa has a wide reputation in the city.”
“Ah,” Marabaunze said. Ed couldn’t tell if she was convinced or not.
“It was my fault too,” Olsen jumped in, shifting in his seat. “When you were recovering from exposer, I approved her to join the maintenance teams.”
“Was there anything in her background,” Ed asked Olsen. “Anything at all that might make Central Office suspicious about her now?”
Olsen shook his head, still frowning. “No. Nothing,” he said. “I think you’re right. She’s no spy. I remember her file being very detailed, but it’s been so long, I can’t remember every damn word. They have it now, the Office. Bastards.”
“And the night she disappeared? The sighting of Miss Summers and that fire?”
Olsen shook his head again. “We didn’t find any blasted woman with that dark-skinned description there, but honestly, it was a mess. A fight spilled out into the muddy streets, and all over a crop bet. One side bet we’d have sustainable farmlands by now, the other said we wouldn’t. The whole tavern got involved and some idiot had the genius idea of using a torch to calm things down. Two building destroyed, twenty two in our jails. Not going to be processed anytime soon. Serves them right.”
“A fight over crops,” Marabaunze asked.
Olsen shrugged. “Tensions are high,” he suggested. “If they knew we’d be warring in the spring, I could believe it. But once I got things under control, they became apologetic, even embarrassed. Stupid bunch of rioters, once they have a law sword at their throats, they always say they don’t know what comes over them. But no, the woman with that neck scar description. Nothing.”
Ed rubbed his forehead, feeling a throb inside his head, or maybe it was his imagination. Ignoring it, he poured himself another cup of coffee before saying, “Well, it’s out of our hands, and we’ve got our own work to do. While I’m still here, nothing changes, and we proceed as planned. I still haven’t heard from Lord Roz coming to inspect…our…” The three of them shared glances. “What is it?”
“Lord Roz delayed his inspection,” Marabaunze answered. “You weren’t informed? It was in yesterday morning’s correspondences.”
“No, no I wasn’t,” Ed grumbled. Already keeping him out of the loop, were they? Even redacting his memos? “Good, less we have to worry about.” He turned to Marabaunze. “The Chroniclers are briefed, and Engineers should be ready. The first big cut will be in three days.” She nodded curtly in agreement. Ed then turned to Greener. “How’s the bare steam-driver construction?”
“As well as promised,” Greener added, another pastry in his mouth. “Made three of them,” he chewed. “The things are too heavy and brittle to actually run, but hopefully, with Beast material plastered all over it, it’ll work. Just in case, I’ve got forges and smithies ready if we have to make parts entirely out of Beast material. Marabaunze’s given me the know-how on how t
o melt the stuff without burning. The Empire had to make it work somehow.”
“Marabaunze,” Ed shifted his attention back to her. “How’s our containment?”
“The factory building and tunnel connecting the excavation to it are all sound. I tested it myself; the runic shielding holds. If there’s a break, everyone knows what to do. I have a drill scheduled an hour before the cutting.”
“Good, good,” Ed nodded before sipping his coffee. “Greener, your soldiers prepped on how to use the steam-driver when it does work?”
“The soldiers I actually have do,” Greener answered. “Major, everyone knows what they’re supposed to do. It’s now time we do it.”
Ed exhaled. “We’ve been planning this for a long time,” he said, feeling a budding excitement in him. So many years, so much hard work. Ed could still remember when he first received this post, how excited he was about being a part of something so grand. Excited? Excited wasn’t the right word. Destined, as if this was the work he was meant to do at this time in his life. When he first met his three Captains, they were compatriots in a secret arms race to exact justice on an aggressor. Now they were friends, comrades, sharing in the toil, the sweat, and the anxiety of the grandness of their post. But with his duty complete, it was time for him to move on. And with the transfer of Niklas taking over and the hope of another command in the spring, he couldn’t help but think maybe the Almighty was real. He’d be out there fighting again. He cleared a lump forming in his throat. “Maybe I’ll get to see it on the battlefield.” Where I belong now, Ed added in his head.
“You damn better,” Olsen said. “No one deserves to see this war machine more than you. But the trick isn’t building the first one. The trick is turning that mammoth complex into an efficient factory. Process, it always come down to process. These mountains protect us just fine from Sig, but it’ll be a pain to get those war machines out of here come spring.”
“One step at a time,” Ed said, put his coffee down. He smiled, more eager than ever to get on with his final days. “If there’s anything else, we all have work to do.”
Call of the Chosen- Broken Kingdoms Page 53