Freelance Heroics (14 page)

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Authors: Stephen W. Gee

BOOK: Freelance Heroics
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Mazik tapped Raedren on the leg. “Rae, what do they say about assumptions?”

“Something about you being an ass?”

Mazik tried again. “Gavs, what do they say about assumptions?”

“They make an ass out of you and me,” said Gavi. “Also, that you love to make them. And you’re an ass.”

Mazik shot his friends a hurt look. “Could you not—I’m trying to make a point here, okay? Okay?” He gestured at the sergeant as he looked at one, then the other. “Okay?”

Mazik turned back to Redsna. “What I was
trying
to say was that it seems dangerous to bet the city on an assumption that has already turned out to be wrong once. If your estimates are wrong again, the orcks could destroy Saffir tonight—or earlier, if they stop their nice, reliable evening assaults.”

“If they had more warriors, they would have used them last night,” said Sergeant Redsna. “It made sense to hold them back before, to bait us in, but there’s no need for that now.”

“Not necessarily. Not if they’re looking for something. Gavs?”

“Have you considered that the orcks might be after something other than destroying the city?” asked Gavi.

“The City Council’s official position is that the orcks are savages who, while displaying greater coordination than usual, are motivated primarily by violence.” Sergeant Redsna sounded as if he was reading off a memo. “Why do you ask?”

Gavi told Redsna about the chalice she found last night, crushed in the orck’s pouch. “And the first two orcks we fought were raiding a jewelry store. I’ve never heard of orcks caring about gold or silver. They’re supposed to be more interested in territory, and fighting.”

Killing, more like.
The sight of defenders being ripped apart flitted through Mazik’s mind.

The sergeant plucked another report from his desk. “We’ve had other reports of thefts during the attacks. Jewelry, expensive dishware, sculptures, even small paintings from the museum they invaded the second day.” He tossed the report on top of the first. “These thefts are hard to verify, though. They could have been destroyed, or stolen by someone else. Other humans, I mean.”

“That’s the official story. What’s being said behind closed doors?” asked Mazik.

“Most think they’re false reports, and that the ‘stolen’ items have been destroyed, or taken by other humans,” repeated Sergeant Redsna. “Which is certainly true in some cases. We’ve apprehended several people for doing exactly that.”

“Huh.” Mazik processed this, then shook his head. “Even if that’s true part of the time, we’re not convinced.” He steepled his hands together and leaned toward Redsna. “If they’re trying to destroy the city, why didn’t they attack with all their forces the first day, when you were unprepared? Why are they being predictable and attacking only at night? And why are they doing unusual things like looting jewelry stores and breaking into museums? It all sounds fishy to me.”

“Potentially,” said Redsna. “What do you have in mind?”

“Like we said, they’re looking for something. Knowing what that they’re looking for could be useful in defending the city.” Mazik began counting off on his fingers. “For instance, they could be looking for a suitable trophy, or an artifact someone stole and put in a museum, or the materials for a ritual—we’ve seen that one before. Or they could have been hired to steal from the city. There’s a lot of expensive junk here, after all.”

“Who would hire them? An exile
20
with a taste for fine art?” Sergeant Redsna snorted.

“Or it could be their commander who wants whatever it is they might be trying to steal.” Gavi saw the sergeant’s skeptical look. She shrugged. “It’s a possibility.”

“That one in particular doesn’t seem likely, but that’s not the point,” said Mazik. “Knowing what they’re after could be useful. What if they’re working toward some dangerous ritual, and once they get everything they need, they’ll use it to terrorize the whole country? Or they could leave! It’d be nice to know what they’re after, since it might be worth giving it to them so they’ll go away.”

“I doubt it’s a ritual. Orcks aren’t supposed to look kindly upon anyone who doesn’t worship Grall, and they aren’t known for being understated when expressing their displeasure.” Sergeant Redsna didn’t need to explain what he meant. Unlike humans, orcks were monotheistic, with every orck worshipping the Single God, Grall. According to exiles, heretics—which many of them were—didn’t long survive their heresy being discovered.

Mazik’s head bobbed from side to side, as if he was weighing Redsna’s point. “Yeah, but there’s a lot about orcks we don’t know. Not even the exiles seem to know how far the Badlands stretch. But once again, that’s not the point. It’s not important how likely each possibility is. What’s important is that we need to know.” Mazik lowered his voice. “Hell, they could even be stringing you along to lure in your reinforcements, and smash ’em like they did to you.”

Mazik could tell that one had struck a nerve. “How do you intend to prove your theory?” Sergeant Redsna asked.

“We want to investigate their camp. Tonight, whenever they attack. If you tell us where their camp is, we’ll slip in while most of them are away and figure out what they’re after.”

“And I assume you’ll expect payment for this.”

Mazik spread his hands and grinned. “Of course. If we bring you actionable information that aids with the defense and/or helps defeat the orcks, we expect to be paid accordingly. But if it makes you feel any better, we’d also like to stop these attacks so no more people have to die.”

“If it helps, we have experience in clandestine operations,” said Gavi. “In Houk, we spent months practicing our stealth techniques while tracking a group of kidnappers, who we eventually found. We followed them back to their base, which we subsequently infiltrated, and were successful in rescuing two dozen hostages.”

Mazik glanced at Gavi. He wondered if she was purposefully adopting Redsna’s overly stiff military terminology. It was a good sales tactic, if so. “We would have gone unseen, too, if we hadn’t had a big group of noisy civilians to protect,” he added.

Sergeant Redsna shook his head. “I’m sorry, but I can’t authorize any combat operations not directly pertaining to the city’s defense. You may be right, but we can’t spare three talented casters for a wild-goose chase when we’re barely scraping by.”

“You don’t have to authorize it, per se.” Mazik dropped his voice again, letting it take on a conspiratorial tone. “Just give us your word that you’ll do what you can to get us paid, and we’ll take it from there.”

“You misunderstand,” said Sergeant Redsna. “It’s not that I won’t. I
can’t
. Not only do I not have the authority to authorize new quests, I don’t know precisely where the orck camp is located. That’s army business.”

“Can you find out?” asked Mazik.

“That, I won’t do.”

Mazik suspected the sergeant was lying, but he didn’t see a point in pushing it. “All right, that’s fine. Sorry for pushing.” Mazik stood up. “We’ll just go talk to your boss. They ought to know. Where’s your—commander? Commissioner? Whoever’s in charge.”

“I wouldn’t,” warned Sergeant Redsna. “On a day like today, he’s not going to have time for this.”

“Even if it might save the city?” Mazik turned away and headed for the door. He could hear Gavi and Raedren rise behind him.

Mazik was two steps from the exit when Gavi grabbed his arm. “Mazik, wait.” She pointed behind them.

Sergeant Redsna sighed and rose. He joined them, stepping close enough so that they wouldn’t be overheard. “You’re going to do this no matter what I say, aren’t you?”

Mazik nodded. “Yup.”

“Even if it means you might not get paid?”

“Being passive and waiting for things to change doesn’t suit me. I’ve done that before, didn’t like it. I’d rather we fix the problem ourselves.”

The sergeant’s expression darkened. “Even though you were just ridiculing us for trying to do exactly that?”

Mazik smirked. “Yeah, but we have an advantage. You softened ’em up for us. Plus, hopefully there’ll only be a handful of orcks there, not a hundred.”

Sergeant Redsna sighed again. “This is why I hate working with adventurers,” he muttered.

He pulled them away from the door, to a comparatively empty corner of the room. “I’m not sure I agree with your plan,” he said, keeping his voice low, “but maybe you’re right. If you’re going to do it anyway, I would advise against speaking to my superiors. They’ll forbid you from going, and if you do it anyway after that, they’ll make sure you won’t get paid.”

“So you’re suggesting we ask for forgiveness rather than permission?” said Mazik.

“Something like that. We were ordered to only hire freelancers for defense, so if you try to say that I or someone else sent you, they’ll know you’re lying, and I won’t cover for you. But if you profess ignorance . . .” Sergeant Redsna shrugged. “Well, they still probably won’t believe you, but at least you’ll have a chance.”

“That means we’re taking all the risk for uncertain payment,” pointed out Mazik.

“So show up and defend tonight like you’re supposed to,” snapped Sergeant Redsna. “I’m not making promises. I’m just hedging our bets. If you find good, actionable intelligence, I don’t want you to hold it back while you’re figuring out how to get paid. And if you
do
find something, I’ll go to bat for you and try to get you paid—all while professing my ignorance that this conversation happened.”

“Er—what are you going to tell people we were talking about right now?” asked Mazik.

“How about he was asking for my help with some healing?” Raedren rested his hand on Sergeant Redsna’s shoulder. “
Régene.

“Oooo, good idea.”

Sergeant Redsna grunted. “To be clear, I can’t do anything about your defense payment tonight. If you don’t show up, you won’t receive it. Though if you decide to show up anyway, you’re still welcome.”

Mazik nodded. “I doubt it, but thank you. Now, where’s the orcks’ camp?”

“I already told you. I don’t know.”

Mazik tilted his head. “Really?
No
ideas?”

“I told you, that’s army business. That kind of information doesn’t filter down to my rank. Besides, they were probably worried that those of us who are dealing with adventurers would be too loose-lipped with the information.”

“Ouch. Touché.”

“Do you have any guesses?” asked Gavi.

Sergeant Redsna pursed his lips. “Perhaps. I’ve heard rumors, and plenty of speculation. To the west is my guess.”

“West is a pretty large area, but okay,” said Mazik. “Why west? Because of the border?”

The sergeant nodded. “Aye.”

“That makes sense.” Gavi rubbed her arrowhead pendant as she looked off into the middle distance. “They’d have to have come from the north ultimately, so if they managed to get past the borderlands without being noticed—”

“And I have no idea how they managed that,” said Mazik. “There’s gotta be more troops there than the rest of the continent combined.”

“—then it would be easier to travel along the Westron borders than to go along the coast,” finished Gavi, referring to the line separating the Eastron nations, of which Houk and Jihnsruck were members, from their historic rivals on the other side of the continent. “There’d be fewer towns, as long as they kept away from the fortresses on the border proper.”

“We don’t know they went unseen,” said Raedren. “Just that we never heard about it.”

“True, but west still seems more likely than running up the coast.” Mazik chuckled. “We would have heard about it if they tried to trundle through Houk.”

“Correct. Plus, they’ve attacked three times now.” The sergeant held up three fingers. “Once from the north, once from the west, and last night from the south/southwest. West is the middlemost point of those three. Though there’s also no reason they couldn’t be circling the city to obscure the location of their camp, or even be moving it every day.”

“Hmm . . .” Mazik scratched his chin. “And I suppose if we ask you for the name of someone who might know, you’ll refuse, won’t you?”

“Correct,” said Sergeant Redsna.

“Wonderful. I suppose we’ll have to figure that part out ourselves.”

“Ah!”

Mazik glanced at Gavi. As he watched, a mischievous grin twisted its way onto her lips, and it looked as if she was having to restrain herself from laughing. “Actually, I may have an idea about that.”

*      *      *

Gavi pushed open the doors to the inn’s common room. Mazik was right behind her, tugging on her arm. Raedren entered last, gently propelling the pleading Mazik forward.

“Do we have to do this?” asked Mazik. “Wait, I know the answer! We don’t! Come on, let’s turn around and leave. Come oooooooon!”

Gavi ignored him. She looked around until she found who she was looking for. She clomped across the bar, dragging Mazik along behind her.

The waiter from earlier turned as Gavi tapped him on the shoulder. “Yes? How can I help you?”

“Where can we find the Blue Boar?”

Mazik groaned. Raedren stifled a snicker.

“Him?” said the waiter. “Uh. I’d probably start with his house.”

*      *      *

Mazik and the others stood on the sidewalk across the street from their destination. Mazik double-checked the directions.
Yup, this is it
. He didn’t bother hiding his displeasure. He felt like he shouldn’t be disappointed, but somehow he still was.

Ravelin Bilay’s house was a modest one-story building in an equally modest working-class neighborhood. Its wooden walls were painted pale green, with a brick chimney to the right of the door and two large widows to the left. The curtains were drawn, showing off a floral pattern. On the front deck were four lawn chairs, well used but lovingly maintained. In fact, everything about the house was well maintained, as was the case for most of the homes on its street. This was a neighborhood where people didn’t own much, so they took care of what they had.

But Ravelin Bilay’s house still stuck out, though it had nothing to do with the structure itself. It was the people. In the lawn, along the sides, lurking under trees, or keeping watch from windows nearby—everywhere Mazik, Gavi, and Raedren looked, they saw the same rough, no-nonsense people they had seen throughout the neighborhood. Only here they were on alert, and pointedly glaring at anyone who so much as glanced at Ravelin Bilay’s house.

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