Aisling smiled and agreed. She’d done no more than she would have done for any man of Aiskeep, but such attentions to one’s people were rarer in the city. If the man felt he owed a debt, then it would be wrong to deny it.
The hunting was good. Wisely Hadrann chose a system that kept the two guards in camp working on the game brought back to them in turn by Hadrann, Aisling, or Keelan. That first day they hunted hares. Between their successes and those of the cat they had a heap of furs and meat by day’s end.
Aisling took up five of the plump bodies and walked away. Hadrann turned to the interested guards. “It will be moonlight, and I see well. We’ll stake these out and see if the foxes that come for them have changed coats as yet. If so, then we may have more work for you.
The foxes had. The first Aisling shot was winter white with only a black tail tip. Keelan was acting as runner with the dead beasts and at the same time making sure the guards did not leave. Out in the night around a mountain shoulder Aisling was using witch light. It did not alarm the foxes who came to the bait, but both she and Hadrann could see their prey clearly. They shot only those they could identify as not quite full grown and hence probably still unmated. There were a number of them, so that Keelan and the guards were kept busy.
When they were done they had returned fifteen foxes to the camp. Keelan had brought back the discarded carcasses as the foxes were skinned, and the constant supply of those ensured more foxes continually arrived to feast. But after fifteen Aisling spoke softly.
“Enough, I think. There’s sufficient to make the guard think we had very good hunting. More and they’ll wonder.”
Hadrann shrugged. “That’s true. Better to take no chances. Thus far it looks as if we’ve got away with everything we’ve done out here. We will share out the furs slowly. By the time anyone realizes how many we took, the mountains will be snowed in.”
“What of the hare meat?”
Keelan, who’d just returned to them, spoke up. “We send one of the guards back to Trevalyn with some of it. He can catch up with us. We send a message to Jam that the meat we’re sending him is a midwinter gift from us since we won’t be there. We send a couple of the fox furs to him too and four of the hare furs. Does that seem good?” It did, and when they reached camp again the guard was dispatched.
They left mid-morning after sleeping well. The ride back to Kars was uneventful. The second guard caught up with them that afternoon, and by nightfall they were entering the main gate of Kars city. They went straight to their rooms, Aisling immediately calling for hot baths, hot food and drinks, and a warmed bed. Wind Dancer, who’d slept in his carrysack all the way, vanished to hunt mice. They’d be a pleasant change from hares.
Hadrann took the great heap of furs to a tanner. They’d been rough dried on the stretchers and were of fine quality. The tanner was very impressed. Yes, he could begin working on them at once. Certainly he would treat them as the valuables they were. Hadrann settled to haggle over the tanning price. With that done he went back to the stable to split hares.
One third to their own tables. One third each to Aisling and her brother, who would quietly share them out to friends and acquaintances. By late evening a number of diners were extolling the generosity of Aiskeep and Aranskeep. That included Shastro’s cook, a middle-aged woman who was tyrannical in her domain. Her cooking and the smooth way in which she ran the duke’s household affairs allowed her license in his eyes. Where she was pleased, he was pleased to listen.
The next night the three friends dined with him. Shastro was merry, inquiring after their hunting, Jam of Trevalyn keep, and if there had been any trouble on their journey. Hadrann laughed at the latter.
“Oh, indeed, my Lord Duke. Some scruffy collection of bandits, but we killed most of them, and I suspect the others simply ran. We took the horses we found to go hunting. It was all most amusing.”
“There was nothing to say they were from Estcarp?”
Hadrann looked horrified. “Cup and Flames preserve us all. No, my Lord Duke. They rode a scrubby lot of ponies of our own mountain breed. We did look over a few of the bodies briefly. They had Karsten weapons—cheap rubbish too—Karsten clothing, and no looks in common with any of Estcarp I’ve ever seen. No, I think them no more than a band of wolfsheads such as even Karsten can breed, a vicious-looking bunch.”
He laughed. “No, my Lord Duke. They were not so formidable. I myself shot a couple. Even my cousin here with her lady’s bow was able to strike one down. My young friend also slew his share. We counted half a dozen dead but did not bother to search far for any others.” He laughed again. “If any lived I would think them running still. It was fair sport. If only you had been with us, sire, no doubt the score would have been higher against them.”
Shastro flushed in flattered pleasure before asking more questions. Hadrann answered casually. It would be Kirion’s hand behind this. The guards had talked, and Kirion suspected that the bandits had been his men trying to reach Kars in a hurry but he only suspected. There was no proof, and if Hadrann and his friends kept their heads… Well, they’d keep their heads. Shastro was asking to see the looted weapons.
“Of course, my Lord Duke. I dumped them in a bundle in my outer room. Cousin Murna will be pleased to fetch them for you.”
Shastro disclaimed any wish to disturb the lady. A servant should go. Hadrann gracefully agreed. Let the servant do that. There was nothing else to find, and he would add an item or two Shastro would find interesting. Several years back Hadrann had chanced across a body and a couple of items it bore. A small voice was saying that now was the time to use the trinkets.
When the servant returned, Hadrann took the bundle from him, allowing it to unroll across the floor. Plain, poor-quality swords, knives, and a shabby bow jumbled across the sheared sheepskin carpets. Shastro gave a sharp exclamation and pounced.
“This trinket, it was found on one of them?” He held up a jewel. It was a pale flawed amethyst held in a circle of plaited silver. It was of small value, but someone had spent time carving the gem into the likeness of a cup with flames surrounding it. The work was well done, and the trinket pleasant to look upon. Hadrann stared at it in apparent surprise.
“Why, yes, my Lord Duke. It came from one I thought to be their second-in-command.” He laughed. “If such a wrangle-tangle group could be said to have a command.” He stooped, thrusting the cheap weaponry aside. “The man had this on him also.” He picked up another small item and proffered it to Shastro, who almost drew back. At Hadrann’s blink of surprise the duke collected himself and took it in slender fingers.
“Yes, yes. Very interesting. I wonder where the wretch obtained them?” There was something in his voice that said he was indeed wondering. Aisling craned to see. Another trinket. Probably from the same hand. This time a small tawny cat’s eye carved into the shape of a sitting cat. It was attractive without being valuable, and Aisling cried out in delight. Shastro turned and forced a smile.
“My dear Lady. You find it pleases you, then it is yours.” He pressed it into her hand. “Say nothing. Count it as some small recompense for a fine meal and the destruction of a dangerous band.” But his voice was tense, and in one white-knuckled hand he clenched the amethyst trinket. After that he angled to bring the meal and the evening to a swift close. There was a half-worried half-considering look in his eyes. Aisling knew it had something to do with the trinkets. She reined in her impatience until they were able to bid the duke an elaborate farewell. Once back in their suite she pounced on Hadrann.