by RW Krpoun
“That’s us,” Arian nodded, placing both hands on the table.
“Hand over your sword-belts with the weapons in their sheaths; you’re coming with us.”
“May I ask why you are doing this?” Arian asked as he slowly and deliberately unbuckled his belt.
“You need to go have a nice private chat,” the Serjeant advised, accepting Janna’s belt and weapons from the scarred Silver Eagle. “Me, I’m just the matchmaker for this little affair.”
Brother Captain Hollister was a square-built man whose thick thatch of sandy hair and equally thick mustache showed strong inroads of gray, a squat, powerful man whose years as a lower-ranking Brother on the streets of Teasau still showed on his knuckles and face. He met the two Badgers in a neat office in the Temple-owned barracks for the Brotherhood. Waving them to chairs against the wall, he finished reading a sheaf of papers by the light let in by a closed glass sunlight and then set the file aside on a desktop filled to capacity with papers and files. Choosing another bundle of written pages, he scanned a few lines to insure that it was indeed the ones he wanted and turned to face the mercenaries, the gold sunburst of his rank superimposed over a horizontal trident standing out sharply on the plain black leather of his tunic; desk officers did not wear the protective studs that street officers required.
“Last night you had occasion to fight with five local thugs,” Hollister observed. “You killed four and crippled the fifth, and had vague reasons for why five good bully boys would be sent after you.”
“We told the Brother-Corporal about a line of inquires we are making,” Arian shrugged. “That is the only reason I could think of, unless it involves a general foe of the Badgers and not a local reason. Did the survivor know who hired him?”
“Dame Vinke explained to us that she asked you to look into the matter,” Hollister nodded. “I did some poking around with the same matter a year ago and came up with nothing. No, Wortley hasn’t said anything yet, but they took his leg off a few hours ago, so he really hasn’t been in a mood to discuss his life’s regrets just lately. Where else did you go and what else did you do last night?”
Arian explained the events of their evening. “May I ask why you are interested?”
“Last night, or more probably, this morning not long after midnight, Keela Red-Face, her chief bodyguard, and two of her whores were murdered in a suite of rooms she rents. You were seen with Keela, the guard, and one of the whores the evening before last; in fact, Dame Maidenwalk and Keela were said to have had a confrontation. Yesterday morning the other murdered whore showed up at your room at the Festive Turnip, and last night five hired bravos try to kill you. I might suppose that you two paid Keela back for the attack by Wortley and his boys.”
“I could see where you might think that,” Arian nodded slowly, thinking fast. “But I can assure you that we had nothing to do with it. Revenge is not unknown to the Badgers, but we would require valid proof of guilt and in any case prefer to conduct our business in the wilder places where Imperial law is not as salient a point as it is within a city such as Teasau. Of course, I would never presume to tell you your business, but the Badgers would gladly pay for the services of a Seer to examine the site of the murder to assist in the investigation.”
“We’ve several on staff; interestingly, all he came up with was that some sort of enchantment was used in the killing, and which also effectively ruined any Sight into the event. Just as interestingly, both of you carry enchanted weapons.”
“And I suppose that rival killings within the pleasure-market rarely involve much enchantment.” Arian was beginning to feel uneasy.
“No, as a point in fact they don’t as a rule, and even more rarely are two highly productive girls killed as well.” Hollister fixed the monk with a steely gaze. “You can understand my interest.”
“Yes, all too well. Unfortunately, all I can tell you is that my companion and I are not guilty of the act; we reported the only deaths we’ve caused within this city.”
“ ‘Inflicted’, I think, would be a better word than ‘caused’ under the circumstances we find ourselves in. I find that rather interesting: on the one hand, you would seem to fit the bill for Keela and company very nicely; then on the other, why bother to report the fight with the bully boys if bloody revenge is your intention? Why not just slit Wortley’s throat and go about your retaliation? I doubt either of you is a virgin to finishing off a wounded foeman.”
“Hardly.”
“So why did you draw Brotherhood attention to yourself? Wortley is well-known and despised by the Brethren; his maiming was the first bit of news I heard when I came in this morning.” The Brother-Captain regarded the two with frank interest. “To be honest, you fit the bill just a little too sweetly for my taste, too sweetly all around.”
“If we were making someone nervous, someone who had been keeping an eye on our actions, then making us appear to be murderers would solve that someone’s problems,” Arian offered.
“Yes, I had considered that. Interestingly, the four were caught at play when they were killed, the swordsman, what’s-his-name, and the whore named Sheeny in one room, and Keela and a girl she got from a worthless bastard who went by the nickname ‘Patch’ in the other. All four were cut up very dramatically, the place looked like a slaughterhouse in fact, yet when I went down to the Temple of Hetarian to see the four you killed last night I found four neat corpses, killing wounds and not much else. Now, revenge calls for a bit more blade-work, perhaps, but I always see a lot of hacking as the mark of an amateur.” Hollister shrugged. “And a runner sent to the temple of Beythar reveals that before the two of you became mercenaries you were both highly respected members of that church, still are, for that matter, and you yourself are a respected former cult-hunter, one who would cover his tracks far better if he was about such a job, I’ll wager. The Phantom Badgers have been coming and going from Teasau for years and never had much in the way of contact with the Brotherhood other than the usual tavern-fights and the time a Dwarf in your Company beat up six longshoremen at noon for some reason or another. I can’t help but thinking that if you wanted Keela dead, that she would have just quietly vanished, no loss to anyone and certainly a lot easier on us.”
“So I can take it that we are longer considered suspects?” Arian asked hopefully.
“Actually, I don’t think you were ever considered suspects,” Hollister made a short dismissive gesture. “The point being that we really don’t concern ourselves much with the death of two criminals and two whores in and of themselves; we’ve thirty-five thousand city occupants and as many visitors in a given year, most of whom are armed and a good number of whom are violent enough to kill others for little or no reason. Violent death is common enough, and unless it involves an honest citizen we don’t worry much about the actual murder. What we do concern ourselves with in these cases is the possibility of civil unrest; one thing we seek to avoid is feuds and faction-fights which can swiftly get out of control.”
“I see; you’re concerned that the Phantom Badgers are hunting down the disappearance of these children with an eye to dispensing justice,” Arian nodded earnestly. “I can assure you most emphatically that we are not.”
“Good.” Hollister was equally emphatic. “Because that’s our job, and we brook no interference. I’m glad we understand each other.”
“So am I.”
“I’ve already warned Dame Vinke, and sent a Brother to the docks; you’ll be on the water in two hours.”
Arian took a moment to assimilate this. “But you said we weren’t suspects...”
“And I meant it. But I also meant it when I said that we wanted no civil unrest in Teasau; you are leaving for two very good reasons: firstly, you have been associated with no less than eight violent deaths in the last twelve hours, which is and of itself good reason to send you packing.”
“And the second reason?” Arian asked woodenly.
Hollister thoughtfully unwrapped a twist of parchment
. “The swordsman, I hate it when I can’t remember a name I just read, anyway, he was in bed with the whore Sheeny when the attack came, and cut to pieces as I said. Stark naked, one second mounting a woman, the next attacked by an armed man, his weapons still in their scabbards when we find the corpses, and yet we find this clutched in his hand.” The Brother-Captain tossed an object to the monk.
Turning it so Janna could see, Arian felt his stomach fall to the floor. Lying in his hand was an oval of heavy leather, spattered with flaking dried blood, blank and rough on one side, the edges still trailing torn thread that had bound it to a belt or bracer; on the other side in bright colors was depicted a snarling, misty badger in the attack.
It was an exact copy of Phantom Badger insignia in leather.
“It wasn’t one of ours, and he knew it,” Janna fumed, marching down the street, one hand cupped protectively on Rosemist’s pommel.
“I know,” Arian muttered, trying to keep up. “Try not to talk so loud,” he glanced back at the quad of Brothers who followed them at a polite distance.
“Ours, our badges, are pewter, enameled pewter, or colored crystal.” Janna slapped the crystal oval riveted to her bracer for emphasis. “I’m one of the Founding Badgers, and I know we’ve never used leather insignia, nor even sewn the metal insignia on; it has always been riveted or wired to a bracer.”
“That was Hollister’s point: someone went to a lot of trouble to blame the deaths on us,” Arian explained patiently. “And from that he figures that if we stick around they’ll keep trying to kill us or get us into trouble, making more discord in the city. Run us out of town and the problems cease.”
“But with us gone, how will he find out who did do the killing?”
“I don’t think he really cares; I’m guessing he knows a lot about the local tensions in the underworld, and figures someone took out Keela for business reasons and laid off the blame on outsiders.”
Janna cocked an eyebrow at him. “But you don’t agree.”
“No. Brother-Captain Hollister is a fine officer of the law, but he thinks like one; I am, or rather was and am again for the moment, a cult-hunter, and thus think in that fashion. Hollister’s view is straightforward and criminal, while mine is devious and deviant.”
“I’ll vouch for the deviant part.”
He grinned. “Anyway, I believe that Keela was killed not because of us, but rather, because of herself.”
“Oh, now it’s clear as mud.”
“She was killed for the questions she was asking, not the ones we were. The Butler, and the people he represents only contact, they never want to be contacted; they keep the advantage to themselves, you see, staying in the shadows. Keela was hunting for the Butler and maybe getting too close for their comfort. Now, they knew we were looking into the same matter for different reasons, and had even talked to Keela. So bully boys are sent after both groups, and as a bonus the fake badge is planted to help muddy the waters, and to ensure that if we survived our attack the Brotherhood would react predictably and give us the boot, as well as keeping close tabs on every Badger who comes to Teasau for the next six months.”
“So we’ve been out-maneuvered.”
“Expertly.”
“I hate it when that happens.”
“So do I, but it’s nothing compared to how Durek will take it. You know how Dwarves are about honor and the law; the idea that the cultists misused the law to get the Badgers thrown out of town like a diseased beggar is going to send him right over the mountain.”
Head Keeper Vinke was gathering her charges when the two Badgers arrived with a handcart loaded with duffles and blankets, and trailed by the Brotherhood quad. The children were being marshalled by a dozen woman, most of whom alternated between sniffling into their aprons, and adjusting some child’s coat while muttering words of encouragement and following it up with a hug. The children stood in nervous groups, frightened and excited each in turn. As the bags were passed out and packed with the clothes and few belongings of the orphans the tears began to flow more freely on all sides.
Her gray eyes were no less direct, but there was a noticeable softening to the Head Keeper’s expression when she faced the monk. “I understand that you were set upon by cut-throats because of your inquires on our behalf.”
“Yes, although cut-throat is not exactly an apt term: four lost their lives and one lost a leg,” Arian advised her cheerfully. “Amateurs.”
“I...see; still, I must apologize for placing you in such danger. I had no idea it would go so badly.”
“Think nothing of it; in fact, we rather expected something along that line. I’m afraid we will have to halt our inquires as the Brotherhood is ejecting us from Teasau.”
“Yes, so I was told. It is such a shame, that persons of good will are treated in such a fashion.”
Arian smiled tiredly. “We’re mercenaries, Dame Vinke: we’re used to not being welcome.”
The gray eyes flashed. “I assure you, Serjeant, that at least in my opinion your profession and especially your Company has been greatly vindicated.”
“Thank you, Dame Vinke.” A sudden impulse struck the monk. “And I assure you that the Phantom Badgers will not forget this matter of missing children,” he added carefully.
Her face was as unreadable as stone. “I should hope not.”
When the two Badgers and their sniffling charges were out of sight of the Hospice Arian leaned close to Janna. “You know, I am beginning to suspect that we’ve been out-maneuvered quite a lot on this trip.”
Durek tapped his unlit pipe’s stem against the table thoughtfully after Arian finished his briefing to the assembled officers of the Company. Such business was usually conducted in the Grand Hall upstairs, but the Captain had ordered this meeting in the small dining room on the ground floor as the Hall’s floor was freshly waxed and he was tired of hearing Rosemary complain. Starr, Rolf, and Kroh had arrived back at the same time as Arian and Janna, having met with a Lanthrell delegation for the purpose of returning the bones of six Lanthrell captives the Badgers had recovered in the raid on Alantarn; naturally the Badgers claimed to be middlemen for an unmentioned third party. Their mission had been a complete success, netting twelve enchanted hawk’s feathers which went into the Company’s central stores, and a quantity of rare herbs and mushrooms which were distributed between the Company’s two Healers.
“You two did as well as anyone could have done,” the Captain said, a far-off look in his eyes. “This affair is not yet over, however: no one, I mean no one insults the honor of this Company in such a fashion and walks away unscathed, that I promise you.” His voice remained even, but all present felt the controlled fury in the Dwarf’s fiery gaze.
“That’s the spirit!” Kroh slammed his tankard against the table’s top. “Me ‘n Rolf’ll go sort the bastards out, just like we did the bunch in Hohenfels. This is probably the same kinda bunch of Void-worshipping Goblin-loving back-stabbing catch-pole-using vermin that need a good axing! Rolf, grab your rats and ...”
“No.” The single word halted even the Waybrother in his tracks; no one had ever seen Durek so furious. “No, Kroh, this is not your task. You are too well known in Teasau; merely removing your insignia will not allow you to avoid the Brotherhood’s attention. I will choose a squad to go into the city, Badgers who have no ties in that city and who will operate without Company insignia or using their true names. The bastards will pay, Kroh, but we must move carefully; the Brotherhood of the Trident wants no civil unrest, and we will honor their wishes. The problem will just disappear. This meeting is adjourned.” The Captain climbed out of his chair and strode briskly from the room.
Bridget stared thoughtfully at the door the Dwarf had just exited through. “You know, there are some people in Teasau whose lives have just taken a definite turn for the worse, although they don’t know it yet.”
“They’ll know soon enough,” her husband shook his head. “The wrath of Durek won’t be long in coming.”
“Close the door,” Durek advised.
She swung the portal shut and stepped over to hang her knife-belt on the headboard of her bed, removing the fighting nets and putting them on her arms rack along with her crossbow as the Captain opened the light port on a storm lantern. Seating herself on the flat padded lid of the trunk at the foot of her bed, she crossed her legs and waited. Dwarves were great respecters of privacy; for her commander to sneak into her quarters and wait for her was unprecedented.
“I apologize for this intrusion,” the Captain met her gaze squarely. “But I thought it needful. The less that is discussed openly about what you will do this summer, the better for your success. You are going to lead a squad into Teasau to extract revenge upon the forces who had Arian and Janna ejected; no doubt it is a cult of some sort. You will have three or four other Badgers drawn from the lesser known of our Company, and whatever other resources you may require.”
“Me, Captain?” She lifted her brows in mild wonder. “I should think you would want your Seeress with you in the field, rather than hieing after cultists. Void-worshippers, covert ones, routinely take precautions that render themselves unreadable except by expert adepts, which I am surely not. Surely Henri would be better suited for this mission.”
“Henri is a promising wizard, but he thinks with his glands too much,” Durek shook his head. “Although a Human would be preferable. If Arian hadn’t already been compromised he would be the best choice, since he’s a trained cult hunter.”
“What of Axel? He’s unknown in Teasau, Human, and clever, not to mention powerful; as a bonus, his injuries would not lead one to suspect that he is a mercenary.”