“True. So what’s with the official burial?”
“He’s family.”
“Sorry, that’s not what I meant.”
“Oh?”
“I meant, well, we could have buried him carefully in the woods, said some words over him, that sort of thing.”
“We could have. What’s your point?”
“In the nicest possible way, we’re risking discovery. And he did try to kill us.”
Daeholf remained silent.
“I’ve buried a friend before,” Alia continued. “Kept it simple, remember them in here,” she added, tapping her chest.
“You’re not religious, are you?” Daeholf asked.
“Gods have never done anything for me, no. Can’t say I have much faith in them. You?”
“A little but that’s not what I’m getting at. Brig was. When you’re on the seas in a little boat daily, you get very religious. Praying to anyone who’ll listen that you’ll get home safe.”
“You were a fisherman?”
“Long time ago.”
“You still pray?”
“Not often. That was a different part of my life. But this would have been important to Brig. And it would be important to my family. When I see them, I want to be able to look them in the eyes and tell them I’ve done right by him.”
“Presumably you’ll not mention about the arm and trying to kill us?”
“Naturally not.”
“Okay, I understand. And I suppose there’s a little comfort in knowing people will respect your wishes when you’re gone.”
“And a little that there might be a greater power that could watch over you?”
“That’s not for me.”
“Fair enough. Jonas is coming back,” Daeholf said.
“The pastor tending the shrine says we can leave the body there. His man will dig a grave and we can have a ceremony tomorrow,” Jonas said.
“How did you swing that?” Daeholf said, curious.
“Showed him my law rod.”
“It’s a little disturbing that you can just do that, get a body buried without questions.”
“Badge of office does have its privileges.”
“Ah. I need to get one of them then, I think it’d be useful.”
“Very. Just got to do your apprenticeship first.”
“Ah.”
“Ah indeed. And then get it approved.”
“Oh. They’re guarded fairly tightly then.”
“And people using one fraudulently are punished harshly.”
“Enough chatter, let’s get down to the village,” Jonas said.
As they closed in on the buildings and saw a handful of patchy tents, Trimas leaned over to Daeholf and whispered, “It’s almost sweet isn’t it, this pocket festival?”
“We can’t all have drummers and a legion march past, can we rich boy,” came the equally whispered reply.
“Well, not anymore.”
Soon they came to the only inn, where Jonas decided they were best leaving their beasts.
“What’s the plan?” Daeholf asked.
Jonas wondered how much of any plan they’d follow, but explained, “We ask around. Seen anyone unusual, has anyone gone missing, has a healer been through.”
“Understood,” Trimas said, turning to the thin crowd.
“And we are not impressing bored women who dream of escape,” Daeholf added to his friend.
“Always on my tail.”
“Are you three okay with talking to people?”
“We are, but he’s not great.”
Zedek sighed. “Thanks, you’re leaving a really good impression of me.”
Trimas walked over to a stall which was doing its best to mimic the sort of merchants who fed passers-by in a city, even though the table was rickety, the fire had gone out and the roof had holes in it.
“What have you got?” he asked.
“Pig and potato,” the man replied proudly, showing a ladle of cooling sludge to Trimas.
Smiling at the rather general use of ‘pig’, he said, “I’ll take one,” and paid.
“Never seen you before?” he was asked.
“We’re bounty hunters, anyone gone missing round here?”
“No.”
“Good, good.”
“Have we had a lucky escape?”
“Very much. Just a second,” and Trimas used the wooden spoon to try the viscous liquid. “There are some wonderfully chewy bits in this, fill the bowl up please,” and he went for some more coin.
Zedek saw Trimas stand still and begin to eat, so he moved his attention to Jonas, who was moving easily through the crowd from person to person, asking clear, brief questions and making snap assessments on whether the speakers could be trusted. He could read body language almost perfectly, which impressed Zedek, who wondered if he could persuade some lessons out of the man, and also worried him: the three were pretending to be other people. Jonas must know this by now, and the situation could come to a head.
Zedek turned back to see what his friends were doing. Daeholf was speaking to a man in a poor ringmaster's outfit and looking like he wanted to be questioning literally anyone else in the empire. Yes, the ringmaster did just point out some of the colours on his outfit. Poor bastard had the village blowhard talking to him. Still, Daeholf probably wouldn’t cause a scene by turning and walking off. Well, not quite yet.
Trimas handed his bowl back to the vendor, turned, and began to move off.
“Wait, sir, wait…”
Trimas turned and saw a young woman running toward him, which he normally found a pleasant sight, except this time she looked like she’d been crying. “What’s wrong?” he asked, closing the distance between them.
“Please wait and speak to my mother. Her hip, she can’t run, but she’ll be here.”
“We’re not rushing off… Look, what is it?”
“You’re bounty hunters right?”
“Yes, well, no.”
“But you’re looking for some people?”
“Yes, but they’re the bounty hunters over there. They’re very good.”
“So what are you?”
“We’re more freelance.”
“Perfect.”
“Hello, hello,” said a woman who had now hobbled with fierce determination to get to Trimas. Daeholf had joined them.
“What’s going on?” he asked.
“We want to hire you to save my husband.”
“Did you tell them they’re the…”
“Yes. They think it’s more our area.”
“My husband has been kidnapped by his old employees and they have him in the old watchtower.”
“Why would they do that?” Daeholf asked.
“Our sons are of age now, we don’t need them for the farming and we don’t have the resources to keep everyone on. We had to let them go. That’s when they went outlaw, took my husband, and are now demanding…”
“Money?”
“Marriage to me and my sisters,” the daughter explained with more than an air of embarrassment.
“That’s new,” Trimas said, trying not to raise an eyebrow.
“If we don’t say yes they’ll kill him. Then they’ll come for us.”
“A big group?”
“Eight. Others have joined them since though, stealing food and whatever they can. I think they enjoy it.”
“Don’t worry,” and Trimas smiled, “we’ll help you.”
“Yes, we will,” Daeholf confirmed.
With Zedek now arriving, the group walked up to where Jonas and Alia had been asking around.
“We’ve got a job!” Trimas called, grinning.
“A job?” Jonas replied as he and his apprentice came over.
“Yes, we have to rescue this woman’s father.” Daeholf coughed. “This woman’s husband.”
Alia raised an eyebrow and looked at the peasant women. “What’s the return?”
“Er, good question. I said you had a business head on you.
”
“You didn’t ask,” Alia sighed in reply.
“How much are you paying us?” Daeholf asked.
“Bed and board?” tried a helpful but poor woman.
Responding to Alia’s acid look, Trimas seized on something. “They’re outlaws, they’ll have a bounty. Right?”
“Sort of.”
“Oh good, go on.”
“The main group used to drink with the magistrate’s son. Gamble with him, rough people up with him. He thought it was fun to ‘play’ with the poor.”
“Patronising arsehole.”
“And to protect them there’s only a few coppers on each head.”
“They want to rape you all and there’s barely a silver penny on them.” Daeholf shook his head.
“And you said we’d do this?” Alia was clearly angry.
“Yes?”
“We have a job. We’re supposed to be in pursuit of a sick-headed healer.”
“Didn’t you say to me we’d need to stop and do some other jobs?” Jonas interjected.
“To earn money. This is a distraction. The days we waste here could see that healer cut people up, kill another farmstead.”
Jonas made a note of how determined Alia had become to stop Marlen. Just as determined as himself, and that pleased him.
“Well you two go on ahead and keep going,” Daeholf ordered, “we’ll do what we’ve promised here.”
Jonas had been studying his new partners throughout this discussion, and he was impressed. The three men might have their quirks, and clearly their secrets, but they were going to help these people for basically free. Jonas now knew these were good men. Complicated men, yes, but good men, and if he treated them right he knew they would finish this business with Marlen if he or, God forbid, Alia, failed.
“We’ll stay and help, Alia. Although I’d appreciate it if the three of you would discuss situations like this before accepting in the future.”
“Of course,” Trimas smoothly lied.
“I appreciate your point of view Alia, I do,” Zedek began, “but I was taught never to pass a dying man, and we will redouble our efforts once this is finished.”
“Alright,” Alia conceded. Jonas decided he’d have a word with her in private to thank her for her determination.
*****
There was no way to get an elevated view of the camp, because the fortified structure had been built on the highest point in the landscape. You couldn’t see the arrangement of the wooden dorms, only sections of the wall, which was being turned into a stone defence, and you couldn’t spy on the soldiers as they moved about. General Garrow thus had to use his imagination as he rode around, making sure everyone had moved in properly, but he was made to ponder this as he came to the gates, looked out, and saw the town which lay below the heights.
There were settlements outside every long-term army camp, but this one was particularly prosperous. It would probably survive if the soldiers marched out and never came back, although Garrow was under no illusions about how long it would take before someone tried to change the chain of command away from their glorious emperor at the very top. So, Garrow couldn’t see his own camp like a god, but he could stand there and watch the civilians below in such a manner, and it was strangely addictive. Perhaps that was, in one minuscule way, what it felt like to be an emperor.
Garrow turned to his aides, a mix of the highest ranks below him and soldiers of much lesser rank who had been hand-picked for their abilities, and asked about the supply situation. The report he received was in stark contrast to those he’d heard while fighting in the south: the hinterland of this camp-cum-town would support the legion, and for a modest sum of money. No long supply trains to defend, no ambushes, no starvation rations. They really had landed in a good spot, and while this was exactly what Garrow had been promised, he knew never to rely on such claims until his own men had been out and proved it. But all knew they’d be sent back to the wars after a few years. Rotation was a curse as well as a blessing.
“I shall dine with the most notable civilians,” Garrow ordered, “invite them to the camp. Not their mayor, we have met several times and he’s going to be a nuisance, but the best of the merchants and officials. Then arrange similar gatherings in the town. Let’s try and establish cordial relations.” Which, he knew, wasn’t necessary. An imperial general outranked anyone who’d normally live in a town, but Garrow thought a little bit of diplomacy could work wonders, especially if you wanted to undercut the captain.
“Is there anything else I need to know?” he asked of the team, who all looked at each other, all eyes settling on an aging captain who had been with Garrow for many years.
“Our scouts have been gathering information, as you requested. About the same time we arrived, so did a single traveller, who has set himself up as a healer.”
Garrow’s eyes widened at the mere use of the word. But where the captain had once seen hope and desire, he now saw a weary man going through the motions. “Are they any good?”
“Sir, our reports claim the man is remarkable. In just a few days he has established a reputation for efficacy far beyond anything we have encountered before.” The whole group knew the ‘we’ didn’t refer to the army, or the empire. It referred to Garrow’s attempts to find a cure for his son. So many healers had tried, and there were as many failures.
“This healer is … known to be excellent?”
“Yes, yes, sir. Very impressive results already.”
Now the weary look began to reduce, and hope returned. His aides looked away, ashamed for him and this constant and impossible chase. “We shall ride down and meet him. We shall go now.”
“Yes, sir.”
This wasn’t to be a military mission, but a personal one, and so many of the aides left with orders. But Garrow, a captain, and a bodyguard rode down the winding route up to the camp, and were soon through the wooden gates of the town. Then it was a simple matter of following the captain, who followed the intelligence his men had provided, until they came to a smart wooden building. A sign had been recently attached, offering ‘Healing’. Garrow dismounted, walked to the door, and knocked. He wasn’t used to delays, but heard someone call “Wait just a moment!” and had to. Finally, the door opened and Garrow looked inside.
There was the smell of blood in the air, but also herbs and powders. A young woman was sat on a stool with her leg before her, and it had obviously been freshly set. More importantly, to the right side of the doorway was a mature man with piercing eyes.
“Do you require healing?” Marlen asked.
“My name is General Garrow…”
“From the camp?”
“Indeed. My son is very ill, and I want you to treat him. I can pay whatever you ask if you succeed.”
Marlen nodded. “If I succeed… You’ve had healers before, and they have failed?”
“Yes,” and Garrow was surprised, the hires didn’t usually go like that. “It will be difficult, my son’s sickness is ingrained. But … I have heard you are excellent.”
“Whatever ails your son, I will require complete freedom to work. But with that, I have never found something I couldn’t cure.” Not for a while, anyway.
“You accept then?”
“I do, I do. I assume you would rather I come to the camp for you to tell me the details rather than inside here?”
“I’m a proud man, healer, but I want my son to live a life. If you want me to come inside I will.”
Marlen smiled, a fisherman who knew his bait had just been swallowed.
*****
The farmhouse kitchen was now filled with people. Jonas, Alia and their three new allies were standing round a kitchen table, forming an inner ring, while an outer one was formed by the farmer’s wife, three sons, two village elders and the few daughters who could fit in. The wife had been helped back to the house with a considerable hope-driven spring in her step, and was trying to feed her five new employees. The sons had welcomed the same group with the
embarrassment that comes from being a teenager strong enough to farm but inexperienced enough to have been barred by their mother from attacking the kidnappers. The village elders were inscrutable but silent, and the daughters had to shoo what seemed to be every child in the village away from watching in the next room.
“I believe you have a plan,” Jonas said, looking to Daeholf.
“Yes. We’ve spoken with the sons and we’ve worked out the landscape.” Daeholf nodded at Zedek who unrolled a sheet of parchment he’d carefully drawn on. “The kidnappers are holed up in an old army watch tower, atop a hill. This would have been a problem when newly built as the walls are stone, the doors are thick wood and the approaches were cut away. This, however, isn’t the third century, the doors are gone, the walls are crumbling and woodland is reclaiming. I’m confident we can approach this quietly and neutralise the threat.” Daeholf now went through the plan, finger sliding across the chart.
Jonas nodded along. “Sounds good.” He wanted to ask questions, but the room was rather full. “Alia, can you get a description of the farmer, just in case he’s not simply tied in a corner, while Daeholf, I need to speak with you outside.”
Soon they were outside, with just a boy and a girl watching them.
“That’s the best you’ll get,” Daeholf pointed out.
“That obvious?”
“Yes.”
“Scouting. You were a scout.”
“For a while.”
“But not all plotting landscape and locations of troops.”
Daeholf smiled politely, knowing Jonas already knew the answer. He was probing for information. “Ever heard of the phrase ‘Little War’?”
“Do tell.”
“Wars aren’t all marching your ten thousand men, lining up and charging. There’s a cloud of people between them as they move. People like me.” ‘Me’. That wasn’t lying was it, out of the three he’d done it. “We did check the charts, watched for their scouts and troops, but we laid traps, plotted ambushes, burnt and stole to ‘deny’, crept about.”
“Sounds like it needs brains.”
Daeholf laughed. “Different skills to rank and file. Keeping calm and staying in line is what they need, we had to improvise, make decisions, be out on our own. Not easier, just different.”
Dark Healer (An Empire Falls Book 1) Page 27