The Call (17 page)

“Did you arrive on the ships yourself?” she asked. “It sounds like it from your accent.”

“I still haven't covered it up?” the man said and shrugged with an awkward smile on his lips. “No, I've been here a few months. I got work here through some relatives. I didn't expect to get caught up in a war because of it. I feel I should demand better wages.”

“The fighting will be to the north.”

“At first, yes. But if Kossus wins decisively you can bet they will rush south to subjugate this land once and for all.”

She must have made some expression because the man seemed to regret his blunt words.

“But the situation hasn't reached that point yet. It's no use agonizing over the future.” He hesitated. “Are you in some trouble?”

“W-why do you ask?”

“It looks like that wretch over there is watching you. The one with the brown hat.”

The man indicated by nodding his head and Katja looked around. Jamon stood close to the gate into the square and looked off at something.

How does a man with ruined knees get around so fast?

Someone waved to the man Katja had been speaking to and he waved back.

“Say, I need to leave. Good lucking getting north.”

“Yes. Thank you,” Katja said and walked casually towards the gate. She took care to look straight ahead without peeking at the beggar.

Perhaps the foreigner had been wrong about Jamon looking at her, but why had he feigned being crippled? Surely beggars didn't earn enough to make such a charade better than actual work?

Serdra's warning of Brotherhood spying sounded in Katja's ears. She felt eyes were on her as she strolled calmly southwest along the main street. It may have been her imagination, but she felt she couldn't risk returning to the inn with a spy in tow.

What do I do? I can't just kill him out in the street. And if he finds out I'm onto him, then what? Will he make himself scarce and resort to something else? Will he tell his friends of me?

Her palms were sweating. This was a different kind of unease from the one caused by the demons. They at least were straightforward, and the encounters with them had been very simple in their nature. She had admitted to herself that this whole thing would probably be far simpler for her and Serdra if she hadn't let the Brotherhood man escape by Longwater. She didn't want to risk exposing them twice in a row.

Katja stroked the knife in her belt. Something had to be done.

She looked to the left. The side street was empty of people at the moment and led to several narrow, dark alleys. She pretended to see something and reacted. She hesitated a moment and then ran into the street.

The houses were all rather tall, the windows shuttered and the alleys she peered into were all empty. No witnesses. Or so she hoped anyway. The guardsmen would arrive soon if someone called them.

Fleeing from the guardsmen? It would be just fantastic of me to make a bad situation ten times worse.

She let her feet hit the paving stones hard, so this real or imagined pursuer would definitely hear her. She didn't like this, but what was she to do?

No fumbling
, she thought.
No botches. I have to do this right.

She entered an alley and halted. There was no-one there either and all the windows were on the upper floors. This was probably the best place available.

The only hiding places were a barrel beneath a rain gutter and a doorway. She heard no sounds from within the surrounding houses and would have to kneel to hide behind the barrel, so she chose the doorway. It was deep enough for her to hide by pressing her back against the door. She readied herself.

A few moments later she heard soft footsteps stop by the alley. She had heard nothing until the individual was a few metres away. This was no coincidence. Someone was indeed trying to sneak up on her.

She carefully breathed in and then held it.

The person hesitated by the entrance to the alley but then walked in, slower and more cautiously than before.

Katja did a quick review of a particular battle with Serdra, just before Jamon arrived at the doorway.

Katja kicked him in the stomach. The man gasped and stumbled back and into the wall. She charged in to bring him down but he struck at her. After all the training with Serdra, defending herself from a clumsy attack of a breathless man was easy. She punched him in the face before he could try anything else and then drove her other fist into his solar plexus.

Jamon collapsed completely and hit the ground like a bag of flour. Katja ripped the knife from its sheath and stood over him with the weapon at the ready.

“I see the bread did you good!” she hissed. “What do you want?”

He groaned, coughed and fought to breathe. She knew exactly how painful it was, so it surprised her when he laughed as he lay with a hand on his stomach.

“You are...” He coughed. “You are... quick,” he squeezed out. “Quicker than most. I suspected this.” He sat up. “
Fal obra, uri tovaren
.”

Katja stood still. Then she took a single step backwards and lowered the knife slightly. Jamon watched her and waited. Finally she remembered the words.

“
Domi, fasan
.”

The 'beggar' nodded.

“You are the girl from the west, aren't you?” he asked quietly. “The stories only reached us recently, but...” He looked her over thoughtfully. It felt to Katja like he was examining an animal species he'd heard of, and comparing the reality to the tales.

“You are
new
, aren't you?” he asked after a bit. “As young as you seem to be?”

“She is, yes,” Serdra said. “But she is still one of us.”

Katja's mouth hung open when her mentor entered the alley.

“Wha-”

“I said you wouldn't be free of me until I consider you ready,” Serdra said calmly.

Yet another test?

Jamon had recovered and now stood up. He alternated his gaze between them for a bit before fastening his eyes on Serdra.

“You are the instructor, correct? Come to teach a new Sentinel.”

“Yes, among other things.”

Katja sheathed the knife.

“And it is my understanding you are to bow to us,” she said in her strictest tone.

“You understand no such thing,” Serdra said.

Katja threw up her hands.

“Let me have a little fun,” she sighed.

“Are you really in search of passage north or are you here to investigate the situation?” Jamon asked and ignored their exchange.

“Just what is the situation?” Katja asked. “What do you know-”

Serdra shushed quietly. She looked at both of them and pointed at the door. Katja heard nothing from the inside, but it was still probably best to have care. Serdra motioned for them to come and they walked around the corner together.

“Can you take us to your comrades?” Serdra whispered as they walked towards the main street. “We received instructions in Rapids but it's always better to have a presenter and guide.”

The Shade nodded. He had resumed his clumsy walk now that they were in public.

“We have all been instructed to be on the lookout for you,” he said. “Bringing them together won't take long.

“Go with him Katja,” Serdra said. “I will follow from a distance. It's better we aren't seen together much.”

Chapter
11.

Katja sipped her wine and tried to enjoy the music. She and Serdra sat in the lounge of a large residential house shared by three families; all of them Shades. Serdra had lit the Sentinel Flame for a moment to prove their identities and Jamon had gone out again to gather the people. In the meanwhile the lady of the house entertained them. She was a decent harpist but Katja still didn't like the wait.

The trip to the house had taken some time as Jamon, whose real name turned out to be Frank, had to maintain his guise and Katja had kept some distance from the Shade spy so it wouldn't be obvious she was following him.

She glanced at him occasionally as they walked and considered apologizing for the beating, but soon dismissed the notion. She had had a good reason to react poorly to being chased. And he'd recovered quickly anyway.

Serdra had followed them like a ghost. Katja occasionally looked over her shoulder but only glimpsed her twice. Just how did the woman do that? The thought of learning these skills tickled her greatly.

Maybe she'll take the time to teach me this in a less dangerous city
, Katja thought and had another small sip of the wine. She wanted to gulp it down. It was good and it took a lot for her to feel tipsy. It was apparently a shared trait of Redcloaks. But she wanted to be a good guest when she got such a good reception, and some part of her didn't want to embarrass Serdra. At least not in such a place, which smelled of old meals, dust, fires, cats and people. It was the scent of home, and it was nice to feel it again.

Not that she would have admitted it out loud.

The lady of the house shifted from one calm song to another. Katja watched her. She was a completely ordinary woman of child-bearing age in a nice dress. Katja would never have suspected her of anything unusual. But there she sat and entertained two immortal monster slayers while a spy fetched her family, and was charged with raising the next generation of spies. These Shades knew how to keep a low profile.

The woman looked up and into Katja's eyes. Katja nodded with a smile on her lips. She appreciated good music.

Finally Jamon/Frank returned. With him were two women and five men, two of whom were clearly father and son.

The group lined up in front of the doorway into the lounge and the oldest man spoke.

“Welcome, honoured guests,” he said rather formally with his hands in front of him. “I am Baldur Marks and speak for us here in the city.”

“Greetings, Baldur Marks.”

“Is this the whole band?” Katja asked for the sake of participating.

“Everyone who needs to be here for this meeting,” Baldur replied. “We will tell our comrades about everything that transpires.”

“Very well. Let us get to the subject,” Serdra said and leaned forward in her seat. “We sensed supernatural disturbances in this area, as well as a premonition. I am fairly certain it pertains to the Brotherhood of the Pit. What do you know?”

Baldur thought for a bit.

“Do you know of the conflict which took place here forty years ago?”

“Yes. I took part in it.”

Baldur's eyes widened.

“Oh? That was
you
?”

The man seemed to be about forty years old. His parents and probably raised him on stories of Serdra's stay in the country, and now she sat before him in the flesh. How did something like that feel?

Out of the corner of her eye she saw the smaller children peeking in from the next room. She smiled at them a bit and waved. What stories would
they
hear?

“Well, the Brotherhood kept its head down after the losses they suffered. We did suffer the occasional mysterious death among our ranks, but they didn't try anything big.”

“What was that conflict about?” Katja asked. She may have been violating some etiquette rule, but then Serdra should have told her the whole story ahead of time. The Shades didn't take the question badly though.

“Brotherhood covens had achieved a certain degree of secret influence around the Inner Sea,” one of the men said. “They established a net by getting their people into various positions. These were dangerous times, and they harried us and each other in secret. My parents had a direct hand in opposing them.”

His voice was tinged with pride.

“Yes, it was a difficult fight,” Serdra said to Katja. “The Brotherhood threw almost everything into it, and the Silent War almost carried out into the streets. But we unraveled their net with ambushes and night-time assassinations, and finally felled the one who seemed to lead the operation. At least in Baldur's Coast.”

“Johim Savaren,” Baldur said and nodded slowly. “Was he as powerful as claimed?”

“He was a strong sorcerer,” Serdra replied. “Nothing compared to his ancestors from Jukiala times, but still one of the most dangerous ones I have encountered. He was almost definitely the leader. And a skilled leader, considering how organised the whole thing was.”

Baldur nodded.

“The Brotherhood kept quiet in my youth, but we believe they have recovered. We have lost a considerable number of people in suspicious circumstances in recent years, and families who were suspected back in the day have gained various influences. There have also been steadily more unexplained disappearances and... nightmares. Marks of their sorcery.”

Serdra nodded.

“Families who were suspected?” Katja asked.

“Suspected of being connected to the Brotherhood,” Serdra said and turned towards her. “Most of them trace their ancestry to Vendyha but it's not an absolute rule. Not everyone knows what their kinfolk get up to. And they sometimes let outsiders into their ranks, but it is rare and often frowned upon. So it pays to keep an eye on certain families.”

“Just like now,” Baldur said. “It can't be a coincidence that so many suspected men have gotten into the government or the army lately. Nor that the governor, whom we have never suspected of anything, falls ill just now that war is breaking out. And the lieutenant governor seems determined to tie everything into knots while Jirik is incapable of tending his duties.”

“So you suspect the lieutenant governor of poisoning him or some such?” Katja asked.

“Yes. Especially since he is brother-in-law to a certain merchant. A merchant who inherited considerable land and money and has turned those into wealth and influence.”

“Tovar Savaren,” one of the women said and looked at Serdra. “Johim's grandchild.”

“Hm,” Serdra said. “That certainly is a shady connection. Does he live here in the city?”

“No. He manages his mercantile empire from his father's estate, on Mooncape. He is the mayor there and runs the trade. His family pretty much
owns
the entire town.”

“Have your agents gotten close to him?” Serdra asked.

“No, not really. Tovar Savaren practically has an army to protect his properties, and he isn't known for tolerating the company of his lessers. He is, however, very popular among the elites of the Coast and Amerstan and even further afield. He has pushed for reducing taxes on major trade, and various other privileges for the wealthy. If something happens to the governor and the senate he would be almost certain to take control of the country.”

Serdra nodded. She showed no expression, but Katja could still tell this was bad news.

“So if the governor dies without any suspicion falling on him the Brotherhood would again have control of an entire country,” her mentor said to all present. “They could then cover up their activities far better and insert their people into all positions of power. Perhaps even get covens from around the Inner Sea to work with them.”

“And-” said one of the women, hesitated, and looked towards the doorway. Katja looked herself and saw the children had left. The woman kept speaking.

“And they could assault us much more efficiently,” she said and Katja saw fear in her eyes. “Both in terms of finding us and killing us. They could frame us for crimes and put us in front of judges under their control.”

Serdra nodded.

“Just like happened in Fornos,” she said.

Whatever had happened in Fornos, the memory clearly didn't sit well with the Shades.

“What do you have?” Serdra asked. “How many warriors do you have?”

Baldur searched for words.

“We have all received some amount of training,” the man then said - and seemed to Katja to be grappling with his own pride. “But I am afraid we only have five true fighters here in permanent residence. Two of them were once in the army.”

He pointed at the 'beggar'.

“A seven-man group came to us from the north last fall. Frank has been with us here in the city, but the rest stay on a big farm to the south. Five of them are warriors and two are sages. They came both to help and to train the young ones.”

“At Wave Fell?”

“Yes.”

“Do you have a plan of some sort?” Serdra asked.

“We do have a contact within the city hall,” Baldur said and smiled slightly. “A steward. He is too old for anything trying, but can report to us on what happens in there or leave an unlocked door at the right place and time. I spoke to him two days ago. He said he'd had little access to the governor, but that his illness seemed most peculiar. He has no fever, doesn't infect others and no medicine seems to help. He just lies unconscious and motionless and makes the occasional groan.”

“It does sound like a spell,” Serdra said.

“Indeed.” Baldur pointed at one of the men. He was of a similar age as Baldur, short and dark, with intelligent eyes. “Armin here is a rune man. If he can enter the governor's room he can find out the truth. If a curse is at work here he can probably lift it.”

“How do you mean to get to him?” Katja said quickly to Armin before anyone could say something more. She was annoyed at her limited ability to participate in this meeting. It was like she was a child again.

The rune man cleared his throat.

“People take turns watching over Mister Jirik,” he said. “Our contact will have the task tonight, after midnight. He will leave an unlocked door for us.”

“The city hall looked pretty well-guarded,” Katja pointed out.

“Yes. This won't be easy,” Armin said. “But I have to try. All our lives might depend on unravelling whatever plot the Brotherhood is brewing.”

“I will go with him,” Frank said. “I am trained in entry.”

“And I will come with you,” Serdra said, in the same calm but firm tone she used to give Katja orders.

“That would be most helpful,” Armin said and nodded, but Katja saw two of the quiet Shades glance at each other.

“What about me?” she asked.

“It's best as few as possible sneak into the city hall,” her mentor answered.

Katja's cheeks warmed a bit, especially at the glances from the Shades. Given the rune man's paunch she ought to be better at climbing and sneaking than him. But then what could she say?

They agreed to meet at midnight in a spot out of public view and the meeting was ended. The Shades bid them farewell and they walked to the inn along little used streets.

“I will teach you how to sneak into a well guarded building later, in a safer land when there is less at stake,” Serdra suddenly said. “Nothing must go wrong in this.”

She inclined her head in the direction of the Shade home.

“I have already told you how important our alliance with them is,” she added.

Katja nodded, unsure of where she was going with this.

“These small, silent groups keep their eyes open for generations. You might return here in forty years or a hundred years, and get information and shelter from these people's descendants. They can give you details of their home areas you would never discover on your own. Such is a priceless resource.”

“Yes yes, I understand.”

At least now that you mention it.

“Therefore you must never endanger them. If a family is discovered there is no going back. Our enemies will use any trick to destroy it in one way or the other. It can take on many forms: False accusations, curses, poison, financial destruction or just simply assassins with knives. Imagine being responsible for something like that. Imagine the deaths of the people you met back there.”

Katja couldn't help but do just that while they walked in silence for a bit. She didn't like it.

“You must never give such a group away. You must always take care that no-one follows you to them, or overhear you discuss their matters.
Our
matters.”

“And I guess that's the reason you aren't using... their title.”

“Exactly.”

“Do you think they can't handle this on their own? Was that why you ordered your aid?”

“The 'beggar' is what we call a migrant,” Serdra answered. “An agent who comes from another land to undertake dangerous missions, so if he gets discovered he won't be connected to a local family. I think they can get into the town hall on their own. I will go with them because if the Brotherhood does indeed have a grip on the highest authority in Baldur's Coast it must be broken.”