Dragonhunters

by Sabrina Chase

  “It’s from Henri,” Dominic managed. “Now what has happened?”

  Chapter 5

  Denais’s hideout in Anatoli had been a bandit’s lair a hundred years ago, and before that some sort of outpost during the furthest extent of the Graeco–‌Roman Empire. Some of the carved marble from that period showed up incongruously in the stone walls and outbuildings. The main stronghold was built in the midst of a collection of reddish rock pillars that jutted up from the top of a hill, making use of them as walls. This made it quite secure, but also rather stuffy. Gutrune von Kitren stepped outside the stone building she had been searching for a breath of fresh air and considered what to do next.

  Denais, or more likely his geas–‌enslaved people, had cleared out anything of use from the hideout before escaping. A few scraps of paper had been found, but none had any new information. The Preusan military magicians were finished with their search, and the first group had already left to make the long journey home. Gutrune was making one last attempt to find some clue as to where Denais had gone. She did not want her first foreign mission to be a failure.

  There were signs that many people had lived here recently. The hideout itself was not large, but surrounded by a fairly extensive stone wall. Within the wall were a barn, a handful of small houses, and a burnt wreck that had shown signs of magic and had probably been a laboratory of some kind.

  She went to the barn. The stalls were ordered and clean. She wondered if they had all been used, and walked into each in turn. Other than the fact that they had been used, it was impossible to tell how recently. Two of the stalls had grain still in the feed boxes. Quite a lot of grain, actually, and it had been left long enough to have gone moldy. Why had it been wasted like that? Why had so much been left? At a guess, it represented at least three days worth for a working horse.

  Gutrune left the barn and walked back up the path to the hideout. Looking up, she saw remnants of a roof on the top of one of the rock pillars. A lookout post, perhaps. It would give her a view of the terrain, and perhaps some ideas.

  After a search she found the narrow, wooden steps to the lookout. In some places it was simply a series of ladders, none too sturdy, but she made it to the top eventually, glad she had decided to wear her hunting costume, which allowed such activity. The view was breathtaking, looking down to a series of forested hills and a narrow valley with cleared fields and grazing cattle. She could see foot trails outside the walls, and the main road that led to the tiny village a few miles away.

  A flash in the nearby forest suddenly caught her eye. Gutrune did not move her head to look, instead leaning on the parapet of the lookout as if she were still admiring the view of the valley. The flash had come from the top of the next ridge, an ideal location for anyone wanting to keep watch on the hideout. If she recalled correctly, there were more rock outcroppings on the other side of that hill. She yawned ostentatiously and turned to go down, but once she was no longer in sight descended as quickly as she could.

  One of the smaller buildings had been set aside for her personal use. She entered, relieved that Stoller was nowhere in sight, and quickly gathered her game bag, a candle, matches, and her triple–‌barreled rifle. After double–‌checking the ammunition in her bag and taking another look around for Stoller, she headed for the gate at a quick walk.

  She had argued vehemently with Heinrich about Stoller, but Heinrich had insisted, to the point of refusing the post, that the former soldier go with her. And Stoller’s understanding of his instructions was he went everywhere with her.

  “Going hunting, miss?”

  Gutrune stopped, closing her eyes briefly and taking a deep breath.

  “Yes, Stoller. There is no need for you to accompany me.”

  He stepped away from the wall where he had been standing. “Your pardon, miss, but you won’t want to be carrying all the game you’re bound to find in the hour before sunset,” he said with a perfectly straight face.

  “I can’t wait for you. As you say, there is little time. I only intend to track and observe.”

  “Which is why you are carrying the triple, naturally. I understand some of the sheep around here can be vicious.”

  He fell in one step behind her as she walked on. Gutrune sighed. “I take it as a precaution, since despite what you and my brother think, I do consider my own safety. The prey I track is human.”

  “What, have you found one of the criminals? Why not call in the soldiers?”

  “Because I want to know where he will go. I believe someone is keeping this place under observation,” she told Stoller. “I saw a flash from field glasses on the ridge to the southeast.”

  “Very good, miss. What’s the plan?”

  “We find a good watch point and wait for twilight.”

  She had her own field glasses, and once they were in the woods made sure that she had a good view of the slope of the hill but no chance of reflected sunlight. A small, rutted track that in this area qualified as a road was a few yards away. While they waited, she told Stoller about the grain.

  “You think they left in a hurry, perhaps?”

  She shook her head. “That much grain? It looks like the servants had been under orders to feed the horses, and did so even when those two horses had left but the others had not. I think this watcher was in place before the rest of Denais’s people abandoned the outpost.”

  Light was fading fast. It was not a night with a full moon, and Gutrune began to fear she would not be able to see anything when the watcher did come in view. But her eyes adapted, and before all light had left the sky she saw a human figure move furtively out of the forest, running for the rocky outcroppings on the slope.

  She tapped Stoller on the shoulder and got silently to her feet. She needed to keep the watcher in view but not alert him with any noise. She walked quickly but made sure to slowly shift her weight in each step.

  Then she saw a thin beam of light. A shuttered lantern? Now she did not need to go as fast, and it indicated the watcher was not suspicious he was being followed. She could see the light reflected by the rock walls now. He was going into a cave of some kind. She glanced about, noting as many landmarks as she could in the twilight, and sank down behind some bushes.

  They waited silently for some time. Listening closely, she heard a horse nicker and she smiled. One of the missing two horses? She stood up, gripping Stoller’s arm to indicate he should stay, and quietly moved up to the cave entrance. Enough of the lamplight shone for her to see her way now, and she cautiously peered around a boulder where the light was coming from.

  The cave was large. Large enough for a cart, two horses, and several barrels and boxes stored along the walls. A man was loading boxes in the back of the cart, which was already nearly full. He had a long mustache like the locals had, but he looked foreign.

  As she watched, she noticed something odd. The man would load some boxes, freeze for a moment, shudder, and then unload a box and take it to a different part of the cave. This happened several times. All the boxes that were removed appeared to have a splash of white paint somewhere on the surface. Soon he was finished and was lashing an oilcloth cover over the boxes and taking the nosebags off the horses.

  Gutrune moved back as quickly as she could without being detected.

  “He’s leaving now,” she whispered to Stoller. “I need you to go find us some horses and alert the few remaining military magicians to come here.”

  “But they won’t be able to make it in time!”

  She shook her head. “No, I want him to leave thinking he was undetected. Eventually he will have to go to Denais or one of his subordinates to report. He’s leaving some boxes behind, though, and I want them searched. Go, and if I am not here when you return, I will be following the cart.”

  Stoller grimaced, unhappy, but finally nodded his head and ran for the bandit fort.

  The buildings deep in the mercantile section of Baerlen were tall enough to block most of the faint twilight, creating deep shado
ws. Markus walked down the rough, cobbled road, glancing from the corners of his eyes to make sure he was not being followed. The short summer nights were not, Markus reflected, conducive to skulking around. He had taken a cab to an innocuous location a few streets over, but now he was on foot and surrounded by avoidance magic. Hopefully that would be enough.

  The street was deserted, and his destination, a familiar warehouse, showed no lights or other signs of occupation. Markus drifted up to the small side door and tapped lightly.

  “Who?” whispered a harsh voice.

  “Markus.” The door scraped open, into darkness. Markus stepped inside, then dropped the avoidance spell when the door had shut again.

  He heard the scrape of metal, and a slim beam of light shone from a shuttered lantern. Heinrich lifted it up and looked at him. His face was hollowed by the shadows, and something more. “Come with me.”

  Markus followed him to a metal cage lift, which Heinrich pulled up, past two floors and into a closed room.

  “Your message was quite mysterious,” he said lightly, trying to figure out what was going on. “A fortunate thing I had been here before, or I doubt I would have found it in the dark.”

  “That was intentional.” Heinrich pulled a lever with a jerk. “I don’t want any of my men to hear this.”

  Ah. Like that, was it?

  “I got a message from Gutrune. At least, I think it is from her…‌only she and Stoller know the code for the secret telegraph line. I also got a message from Stoller, saying he had been unable to find her. So they can’t be together. I am…‌concerned she may be in danger.”

  Yes, this was bad. But first things first. Any help they could provide would take days if not weeks to reach her, but Stoller was presumably much closer. “May I see this message? If we can be reasonably certain it is not faked, we can simply direct Stoller to that location.”

  Heinrich grimaced. “That’s just it—‌there is no location in her message. I could try tracing it, but that would be noticed immediately.” He rummaged through the papers on the desk. “Here. This is the decoded message.”

  Heinzen, Korda recently in Anatoli. Spy watching base left same time us, heading Parsia. Unable to follow. Watching cargo left behind. Alert Ynde, Cathan agents watch for Aeropan male 5’9” slender build dark mustache shipping several large wood crates. Track, do not intercept.

  “Well?”

  Markus put the slip of paper down, thinking furiously. “Do you have an atlas?”

  Heinrich did not, but he did have a map of the region surrounding Anatoli. Markus frowned, trying to remember where the countries mentioned in the message were located.

  “We know she was here with Stoller.” He pointed to the location on the map. “The message mentions Parsia, and that she can’t follow. Knowing her resourcefulness, that indicates to me the method of transportation is such she cannot hide or stow away or follow without being seen. That leaves,” he tapped another location, “here. Somewhere on the coast of the Turjik Sea. Most likely the spy is using a small boat.”

  “So you think she did send the message.” The lines of strain on Heinrich’s face eased marginally.

  Markus nodded. “Those names—‌one is a missing student from Ostri, the other is the baron’s assistant, also missing. I know she saw the report I sent, asking if anyone had seen them. It is not general knowledge they are missing, or would have any reason to be in Anatoli. The enemy, certainly, would not want to encourage us to make the connection.”

  Heinrich shifted in his chair, fingering some of the papers on the desk. “She’ll do something reckless without Stoller there to stop her. How can we find her if she decides to follow anyway?”

  “Fräulein von Kitren has more sense than you give her credit for,” Markus observed, raising an eyebrow. “She did say she was unable to follow, after all.”

  “How can you be so calm about it?” Heinrich slammed his hand down. “Can you think of nothing useful to help her?”

  “Tell Stoller to look for her at the main port,” Markus said.

  “What makes you think she would stay? Yes, yes, she won’t follow, I agree. But if she were to leave, to return to Preusa…‌”

  Markus shook his head. “Firstly, she will most likely wait and watch to be certain of the boat the spy and cargo leave on, and their heading. Then attempt to learn as much as possible of the contacts made there. Finally, wait for someone to show up to hand off her intelligence to. She makes no mention of leaving. You do have a means of contacting Stoller, yes? Give him the information to pass on to her.”

  “Is there nothing else we can do to help her?” Heinrich’s voice was low and weary. “I fear that if I report this I will be dismissed as merely having a personal concern. But it is not just…‌my sister. If she is correct and this is a spy for Denais, going to report, it’s the only lead we have on him.”

  “Ah, the simple military mind at work.” Markus smiled at the irritation that flashed in Heinrich’s face. “Please do not take offense. You are being far too direct and logical about this. The first rule for getting that bunch of old sofa cushions to do what you want is to make them think it was all their idea. And in my case, that I don’t want to do it. My suggestion is this: find a plausible excuse to send me to the esteemed Mage Guardian of Bretagne, Madame Kermarec. Say there is…‌something she needs to see in person. The crucial thing is to include ’to offer any needed assistance’ in my orders. She and your sister are good friends, you know. I am sure that once I explain matters, she will see the need for me to go to Anatoli and find Fräulein von Kitren, and what can I do but agree?” He grinned and had the satisfaction of seeing Heinrich sigh and shake his head, a small smile beginning to emerge.

  “There are times when I think my sister chose the easier task. I should show you the rest of Stoller’s message. They found some hidden equipment and he is having it sent back here. I expect it should arrive in approximately ten days. No doubt something in it will merit the attention of the Mage Guardian.”

  “Excellent! You may also wish to make use of the fact that Herr von Koller hates Madame Kermarec even more than he hates me, if you can imagine. A delicate hint that she is considering coming to Baerlen to help would do the trick, and to finish it off mention I am relieved to be back and have no wish to leave again. But we will need a better place to meet and plan, if possible. I have no plausible reason for constantly visiting warehouses.”

  Heinrich nodded but kept staring at the map. “Yes, I see. I will make arrangements. I confess, though, I find it curious you are so willing to take this burden on yourself. I had not expected this level of assistance…‌and I must ask myself your reason.” He looked up at Markus without expression.

  Markus winced internally and steeled himself to show only mild exasperation. Simple military mind, eh? “Please don’t tell me you suspect I have a personal interest in Madame Kermarec. I barely managed to convince her now–‌husband I had no untoward intentions, and it will be most unhelpful if you stir that hornet’s nest again. Although she is, of course, quite worthy of admiration,” he added with a grin.

  Heinrich, unfortunately, was not distracted. “Your pardon, but I could not help but notice your eagerness to assist…‌personally.”

  Yes, sometimes he wondered himself. Yet, there it was. That didn’t mean he felt an obligation to explain himself to a suspicious brother. He picked up Gutrune’s message again and stared at it for a moment before dropping it back down on the litter of papers on the desk with a sigh. “Besides facing Denais myself, and knowing how dangerous he is,” Markus gestured at the slash of white in his hair, “we have fought him together. The Kermarecs, your sister, and I. There is a bond. I will always be willing to assist any of them at need.”

  The carriage had not even completed the turn in front of the house before the front door opened and Henri came down the steps at what was, for him, a quick pace.

  “All seems well with him, at any rate,” Ardhuin murmured. “If a trifle agita
ted.”

  “The wards are still strong too,” Dominic said, sticking his head out the carriage door. “Let’s find out what happened, shall we?”

  Henri was already busy apologizing. “We didn’t know what to do, madame, and even if we could bring him inside, it didn’t seem wise, with him being a foreigner and all.”

  “Perhaps you should start at the beginning,” Dominic interrupted. “Who is this foreigner? What has he done? Michel was worried enough to speak two entire sentences, but he was thin on detail.”

  Henri straightened and visibly composed himself. “He came to the house asking for the old master, sir. I’m afraid I gave him quite a shock when I told him Magister Morlais was dead. He seemed quite horrified. If I had known he was so ill…‌then when I suggested he could leave a message, he gave me such a desperate look—‌asked who now spoke for Oron, and collapsed! He had looked like an ordinary gentleman at first, but I suppose he must have been using magic because now he looks like a Cathan, and I can’t understand a word he says.”

  “He’s still alive?” Ardhuin asked, gathering up her skirts to descend from the carriage. Illusion, which meant a magician. Looking for her great–‌uncle, and expecting to find him here. But who would know of Oron and not know he had been dead for over a year?

  “Yes, madame. We have him in the cottage, which seemed best until you could return and form your own opinion. Estelle has been caring for him and says his fever has broken, although he is still quite weak.”

  Ardhuin exchanged glances with Dominic. He was frowning.

  “Very odd…‌I suppose we should take a look at him. When did he show up, Henri?”

  “Five days ago, sir.”

  “Well, I suppose it might be connected to our adventures in the Low Countries, but it seems unlikely,” Dominic mused, offering his arm to Ardhuin as they walked toward the old gardener’s cottage.

  Ardhuin stifled a chuckle. “Sending a feverish Cathan in disguise does not sound like something irritated mijneers would do for revenge, but really, I never could figure out their process of reasoning.”