A Flight of Ravens

by John Conroe

  “So Mandrigo has subverted an official of Montshire?” I asked Gwen. She blinked at my tone and started to take a step back before stopping herself. Her face had gone a bit pale.

  “That’s what we understand,” she said, eyeing me like I might bite her. “But I’m sure you’ll want to do your own due diligence before taking any irreversible steps.”

  “But I value your word, Gwen,” I said with a grim smile.

  She frowned at me. “My brother, who if you recall is a Berkette Marine, told me that you are mostly responsible for winning the war against Sylvania. He said you are incredibly dangerous and wanted me to promise I would run in the opposite direction if I ever saw you again.”

  “You don’t seem to be keeping your promise,” I said.

  “I never agreed to his request. A big part of my job is reading people. I haven’t been wrong yet.”

  “And you read me as innocuous?” I asked, incredulous.

  “Of course not,” she said with another glance at Kassa, who looked mildly amused by our conversation. “I know you are dangerous. It’s pretty much your job to be dangerous, same as my brother. He reported your presence in Pit to his superiors. He likened it to kicking over a beehive. Did you know that Berkette High Command has an entire group of officers who make it their business to study you?”

  “I was fairly certain they were aware of me,” I said. “Not sure that I warrant an entire study group.”

  “He was called to Strong for a debriefing. And I even got a visit, from two officers, although Deacon Kittleby insisted on sitting in on my interview.”

  “Are you really surprised?” Kassa asked me, surprising me that she was interjecting.

  “Seems excessive,” I admitted.

  “The republic operates differently than the Kingdom of Montshire,” Kassa said. “Many more layers than you’re used to. You are a potential military threat—it only makes sense.”

  “Yes, I know, just like we keep track of Berkette’s military leaders. We just don’t waste officers to track one person.”

  I looked at Gwen. It had been her turn to watch and listen with curiosity.

  “Are you in trouble?” I asked.

  “Why would I be in trouble?” she asked. I shrugged. “No, they just made me tell them everything that happened, every word you said, and everything I saw. It was a bit long but kind of interesting.”

  “And now that you’ve approached me, here, on kingdom soil, you’ll have to go through it all over again,” I said.

  “Perhaps,” she said, turning to look at Kassa, then at the two men still at our booth who were watching us with unabashed interest. “You think giving one necklace for another will actually help?”

  “The new one doesn’t make people nuts,” I said. “We didn’t have enough for all the originals, but those that remain at large should weaken and fade within days. The new ones will be inert by this time next week.” I glanced at Kassa and she nodded. “The idea is to knock down the number of crazy individuals to the point where the remainder aren’t a real threat, or at least a lesser threat.”

  “And let time do the rest?” Gwen asked.

  “Exactly.”

  “So… mission accomplished?” she asked.

  “Not fully. Gotta look deeper into the corruption here as well as across the border.”

  She blanched. “And surgically remove it?”

  “We’ll see. Would it surprise you?”

  “From what I was told after our last meeting, it would seem more surprising if you didn’t.”

  “You think I’m that predictable?”

  “Me? No. But our military has identified you as ruthless. They think there is predictability in that.”

  “They would be surprised,” Kassa said.

  “Thank you,” I said to her.

  “It wasn’t necessarily a compliment,” Kassa replied, frowning.

  “And it wasn’t necessarily not a compliment,” I said.

  Both women frowned at me, then exchanged a baffled look. “Not sure that even makes sense,” Kassa said. “All I’ll say is that you are full of surprises. We’re packing up.” She nodded to Gwen and then headed back to the booth.

  “Your people don’t act like I was led to believe they would,” Gwen said, staring after her.

  “Right? It’s like there’s no chain of command at all,” I said.

  “That’s not what I meant. Anyway, I thought you should know why we are here, in order to avoid any diplomatic problems. I’ll take my leave.”

  “I appreciate the transparency,” I said.

  “Which I’m certain you will independently verify. Good day, Savid DelaCrotia.”

  “Good day, Gwen Vancour,” I said, getting a raised eyebrow that I knew her last name. Then she turned and walked away. I turned away myself and headed for my team.

  Chapter 30

  “She’s right,” Soshi said after I relayed Gwen’s information. “Father Crandall and Mayor Macklin both decided to take employment with Mandrigo. That little secretary fella was a deep well of information.”

  “Was?” I asked.

  “Still is. He’s on ice in the city’s jail,” Soshi said. “I used the wrong tense.”

  “And we think he’ll survive unattended because…” I asked.

  “Because there’s a crazy-eyed Drodacian Forester camped out in the same building. When we left, she was throwing knives at the legs of the jailer’s desk,” Cort said.

  “At the legs?” Kassa asked, brows up in disbelief.

  “No other challenging targets,” Soshi said with a shrug. “Not that desk legs are that challenging at three spans.”

  “What do you know about the mayor’s betrayal of the kingdom?” I asked.

  “Does it matter? He’s already paid the price,” Soshi said.

  “Which Freyla knows, which means that Slinch knows, or will know shortly. I sent a peregrine to Brona about my meeting with Mayor Macklin so that she won’t be surprised, but I need to back that up with facts.”

  “The king gave you free license,” Drew said, frowning.

  “But that requires reporting and actionable intelligence.”

  Drew, Soshi, and Cort wore almost identical expressions of confusion. Kassa just watched with a blank face and her arms crossed. Trell was looking back and forth between us in a manner that I had learned to recognize.

  “You best not be writing a song about this little chat,” I said to him before turning to the other three. “You know Slinch has been aiming for the Shadows, hence all that posturing about Ash. I can’t afford to give him any more leverage to use against us. Now, what do we know?”

  “Macklin was meeting with Turgeon Collind every other week. Sometimes he took a ride to Kittwell, sometimes Collind came here. During the recent altercations, Macklin either had his constables look the other way when the Mandrigo side was winning, or he had them intervene and lock up the Berkette side when it went the other way. For his help, and for passing information to Mandrigo, a monthly payment of one hundred glimmers was dropped off by Mandrigan merchants. And Father Crandall’s sermons have recently lacked any form of tolerance for our southern neighbors at all. In fact, Kultin, that little weasel of a secretary, said he was preaching punishment for republic interference in kingdom business.”

  “Any solid proof?” I asked.

  Soshi reached down by her chair and pulled up a sack that clunked metallically when she dropped it on the table. “It was dropped off while we were having our little chat with Kultin.”

  “Good. Wrap it in silk; we’ll bring it with us.”

  I could see Soshi perk up a little at that command. Wrapping in silk meant that I wanted it readable by eslling talent, which meant Brona’s people. I could almost see the gears working in her head.

  “Cap, if it’s as serious as all that, you should have told us,” Cort said.

  “Call it a feeling, Cort.”

  “Those feelings have saved my hide more times than I can count,” he said.


  “Which is anything over ten,” Soshi said to him.

  “Eleven,” he said back with a smirk. She just snorted.

  “Wasn’t it Freyla who warned you about the mayor?” Kassa asked suddenly.

  “It was, and she did, vigorously,” I said with a frown.

  “You think you were set up to kill the mayor?” she asked.

  “I think the mayor’s actions and clumsiness resulted in his death, but also that Freyla knew how he would likely react to the appearance of kingdom agents.”

  The meeting room door opened to reveal Jella. “And also, how you would respond to the mayor’s actions,” she said. Her hearing is ridiculous.

  “Last I heard, you were guarding our star witness?” I asked.

  She reached out of view and dragged the ex-mayor’s secretary into view. “I think he should go with us. We’re already burdened with the other two. One more can’t hurt.”

  “He’s that unpopular?” I asked.

  “He was collecting a lot of concerned stares and whispered conversations.”

  “Some of which you overheard,” I said.

  She nodded.

  My decision came fast. “Alright, we’re out of here today. Drew, get a wagon and horses. Cort, supplies for the road to include three guests. Jella and Soshi, security. Trell and Kassa, circulate in the Lobster’s common room and watch, listen, and look for any imminent trouble. Everyone have their gear packed?”

  I got nods all around. “I’ll keep an eye on our three guests while I write up another report to Brona and the king.”

  We were on the road an hour later. I sent two separate reports to Haven, one by royal courier bird and one via a Shadow raptor. Freyla offered one of hers, but I had several deep cover Shadow agents in Porye that she knew nothing about, and Jella had delivered the message to one before we left.

  We moved at a decent pace, but having a wagon with a driver and three prisoners in the party, along with supplies for four or five days of potential travel, kept us well below our normal speed. We rode in combat formation, spread out and spaced irregularly. Jella scouted ahead for trouble, her feline partner Yawl travelling somewhere behind us as rear security.

  Drew drove the wagon with Soshi sitting beside him, a trio of loaded crossbows concealed close at hand. With Jella off in the woods around us, I rode point, Kassa and Trell behind me, then the wagon, and then Cort as rear guard. We never saw the mountain cat, but I could feel her back there. The years I’ve spent with Jella have also been spent with Yawl. I can usually sense her presence after all that time.

  Close to Porye, the roads were busy with the normal traffic of an important port city. Late afternoon found us many spans down the road. The Winter Solstice was less than a week away and the sun was already speeding toward the horizon, but we had several hours to go to get to our stop for the night—a Shadow-owned inn in Conk, the first real town on our journey.

  It was a predictable stop for us, and a huge part of me hated allowing ourselves to be predictable, but we were travelling with prisoners, plus two new members of the team, and having a roof over our heads that we absolutely knew to be safe was priceless. An hour after sunset, we rode into Conk, all of us cloaked and hooded in the cold winter darkness.

  “State your business,” the smaller of the two guards on duty at the town gates demanded.

  I knew him, so I pulled back my hood, letting him see my face.

  His eyes widened as he recognized me. Many of the municipal guards throughout Montshire are ex-military, especially, it seems, in the smaller towns. Young people who entered the military often left it with only the skills of a soldier to earn a living, and the crown actively encouraged its appointed administrators to hire them for law enforcement. My people actively recruit these people as informants and allies, supplying support, connections, and resources, oftentimes including supplemental income. The result was that we have friends scattered throughout the kingdom, many of whom occupy leadership roles. Which means that sometimes we get lucky, as we did this night. Ironic that we get better reception outside of Haven then in, or Porye for that matter.

  “Mark nine travelling merchants seeking shelter,” the first guard said to his companion who I didn’t know but who nodded in agreement as he reached for the gate book. “Correction. Make that six,” he said as he counted the fingers I held up. Jella should already have entered Cork’s walls and be on overwatch somewhere likely high off the ground.

  “Thank you, gentlemen. May the rest of your shifts be safe,” I said.

  “Interesting group of fellows came in about an hour ago. Claimed to be seeking employment as road guards with a Cork merchant, but I know the merchant in question, and I haven’t heard a single word that he’s hiring.”

  “How many?” I asked.

  “Thirteen.”

  “Thanks for the heads-up,” I said, walking Tipton through the town’s gates. Drew flicked his reins and the wagon rolled smoothly behind me, while Soshi pushed our three bound passengers down flat and covered them with an oilcloth.

  Chapter 31

  The trip through Cork’s snowy streets was uneventful, the only movement a few citizens hurrying to the warmth of their homes. I could just about feel Jella somewhere nearby, but I never got so much as a glimpse of her or Yawl, although some of our horses reacted once when the wind briefly shifted. Tipton only flicked his ears, so I figured the big cat was ghosting about the town along with her Forester partner.

  The Stone House appeared after ten minutes of riding, a solid, low-key inn just on the edge of the business district.

  The old stablehand who met us recognized me along with my regular team members. “Thought I might see you soon, Captain,” he said, his voice rough and gravelly. The scent of tobacco gave good reason for the vocal issue.

  I struggled with his name for a moment till it popped into my head. “Why’s that, Alan?” I asked.

  “Word has it that someone rearranged the office of the mayor in Porye over the last few days,” he said as he took Tipton’s reins. Before I could answer, he turned and whistled. Two sleepy-looking lads stumbled out of the stables and started to collect our horses’ leads. “Seems like whoever did that sent all the rats running.”

  “Any of the rats looking to bite?” I asked.

  “Not that I’ve heard, but you gotta watch rats close, Captain,” he said.

  “We’ve brought a few back with us for observation,” I said. “Please keep an eye out if anyone shows interest in them.”

  “Yessir,” he said with a nod. I turned toward the inn and found the proprietor standing in the open doorway, watching us.

  “Tubbs, you have any rooms for wayward travelers?” I asked the rotund man who had grown to fit the name his mother had given him.

  “Wayward? No. Owners of the inn? You bet,” he said, pausing to spit a stream of brown tobacco juice into pristine white snow. “Got some grub still warm too.”

  “I’ll need accommodations for three special guests,” I said as Soshi pulled the tarp off our prisoners.

  “Basement is dry and not too cold, and it’s got a really solid lock on the door.”

  “Perfect.”

  He turned like a wide rowboat and went back inside, leaving the door open for us.

  “Is the grub safe to eat?” Kassa asked me, her eyes on the slimy brown stain in the snow.

  “His food is top-notch. He was the personal cook for General Mitmere ten years ago. He just didn’t know much about running a business. We bought him out, rehired him at twice what he made on his own, and brought him into our little group.”

  “You seem to do that a lot,” she said with a sideways glance at me. “Giving ex-soldiers a hand up and buying their loyalty.”

  “We don’t buy it. We give them a solid chance to get ahead. It’s all that most of them really want. That’s what wins us their loyalty.”

  “Touchy,” she said with a smirk. “Perhaps I used a poor choice of words.”

  “Perhaps,
” I agreed.

  Inside, we found a warm and busy taproom with a couple of small tables to accommodate us. Tubbs himself served us all big clay mugs of good brown ale, while his serving girls brought out crab-stuffed chicken, garlic smashed potatoes, and buttered squash with maple sugar on top.

  Kassa, who opted for wine over ale, gave me a surprised nod after sampling her dinner. The rest of the team was eating like it was a tournament sport, except Trell, who was studying the crowd with a gleam in his eye.

  “Feel free to play if you’ve a mind for it,” I suggested.

  “Shouldn’t I check with Tubbs first?”

  “If you like, although my informed prediction is that he won’t care if you do or don’t… at least until he sees how much drinking a good musician can inspire,” I said. “He gets a bonus if the place meets and exceeds its goals.”

  “Please—he’s never seen anything like me,” Trell said, setting down his spoon and pulling his lute from its place on his back. He was strumming before he even stood up, and the other patrons all took note.

  Soshi speared his remaining chicken with her belt knife before Drew or Cort could get there, so the boys were left divvying up his potatoes and squash. Two lines into his song and his plate was already cleared down to the porcelain.

  I finished my own dinner out of basic self-preservation, then approached Tubbs for another plate as well as a raw chunk of fatty pork. Stepping back into the cold night, I let my Talent guide me around back of the inn and into a dark alley. It was empty, but after standing in place for a few moments, I heard the softest rustle as Jella landed on the ground two paces away. As I was handing her dinner to her, another even quieter sound came from behind me. Turning slowly, I found a pair of big green eyes set in a wide head filled with sharp teeth just a span away. Yawl met my gaze for a moment, then switched her focus to the big block of pig in my left hand. I held it out and she took it almost gently. Then she leapt upward, landing on the roof of the one-story building on the right side of the alley, rumbling as she started to bite and chew.

  “Anything?”