I don’t think anybody believed me about them, ever, except that what I reported always panned out true.
I slept.
Goblin wakened me. “Breakfast.”
We ate. We made a show of looking for markets for our goods, of seeking a longer term connection for future loads. Business was not good, except our host offered to purchase distilled spirits regularly. There was a demand among the Eternal Guard. The soldiers had little to do but drink.
Lunch. And while we ate and prepared our thoughts for the head-butting session to follow, soldiers entered the inn. They asked the landlord if any of his guests had been out last night. Good old landlord denied the possibility. He claimed he was the lightest of sleepers. He knew if anyone came or went.
That was good enough for the soldiers. They left.
“What was that?” I asked when next the proprietor passed our way.
“Somebody broke into Corbie’s house last night,” he said. Then his eyes narrowed. He remembered other questions. My mistake.
“Curious,” I said. “Why would anyone do that?”
“Yes. Why?” He went about his business, but remained thoughtful.
I, too, was thoughtful. How had they detected our visit? We were careful to leave no traces.
Goblin and One-Eye were disturbed, too. Only Tracker did not seem bothered. His lone discomfort was being there, near the Barrowland.
“What can we do?” I asked. “We’re surrounded and outnumbered, and maybe now we’re suspect. How do we lay hands on this Corbie?”
“That’s no problem,” One-Eye said. “The real trouble is getting away after we do. If we could call in a windwhale just in time...”
“Tell me how it’s not so hard.”
“The middle of the night we go over to the Guard compound, use the sleep spell, get our man and his papers, call his spirit back, and get him out. But then what? Eh, Croaker? Then what?”
“Where do we run?” I mused. “And how?”
“There is one answer,” Tracker said. “The forest. The Guard couldn’t find us in the forest. If we could cross the Great Tragic, we’d be safe. They don’t have the manpower for a hunt.”
I nibbled the edge of a fingernail. Something to what Tracker said. I assumed he knew the woodlands and tribes well enough for us to survive with the burden of an injured man. But jumping past that only led to other problems.
There were still a thousand miles to cross to reach the Plain of Fear. With the empire alert. “Wait here,” I told everybody, and left.
I hurried to the imperial compound, entered the office I had visited before, shook myself dry, examined a map on the wall. The kid who had checked us for contraband came over. “Help you somehow?”
“I don’t think so. Just wanted to check the map. It pretty accurate?”
“Not anymore. The river has shifted more than a mile this way. And most of the flood plain isn’t covered with woods anymore. All washed away.”
“Hmm.” I laid fingers on, making estimates.
“What do you want to know that for?”
“Business,” I lied. “Heard we might be able to contact one of the bigger tribes around a place called Eagle Rocks.”
“That’s forty-five miles. You wouldn’t make it. They’d kill you and take what you had. The only reason they don’t bother the Guard and the road is that those have the Lady’s protection. If this coming winter is as bad as the last few, that won’t stop them, either.”
“Uhm. Well, it was an idea. You the one called Case?”
“Yes.” His eyes narrowed suspiciously.
“Heard you been taking care of some guy...” I let it drop. His reaction was not what I expected. “Well, that’s what they’re saying around town. Thanks for the advice.” I got out. But I feared I had goofed.
I soon knew I had goofed.
A squad commanded by a major showed up at the inn only minutes after my return. They had the bunch of us under arrest before we knew what was happening. Goblin and One-Eye barely had time to cast spells of concealment on their gear.
We played ignorant. We cursed and grumbled and whined. It did us no good. Our captors knew less about why we were being grabbed than we did. Just following orders.
The landlord had a look which made me certain he had reported us as suspicious. I expect Case said something about my visit that tipped a balance somewhere. Whatever, we were on our way to cells.
Ten minutes after the door clanged shut, the very commander of the Eternal Guard turned up. I sighed in relief. He hadn’t been here before. At least he was no one we knew. He shouldn’t know us.
We had had time to rehearse using the deaf speech. All but Tracker. But Tracker seemed lost within himself. They had not allowed his mutt to accompany him. He had been angry about that. Scared the crap out of the guys who arrested us. For a minute they thought they would have to fight him.
The commander studied us, then introduced himself. “I’m Colonel Sweet. I command the Eternal Guard.” Case hovered behind him, anxious. “I asked you men here because aspects of your behavior have been unusual.”
“Have we unwittingly broken a rule not publicly posted?” I asked.
“Not at all. Not at all. The matter is entirely circumstantial. What you might call a question of undeclared intent.”
“You’ve lost me, sir.”
He began pacing up and down the passageway outside our cell. Up and down. “There is the old saw about actions speaking louder than words. I’ve had reports on you from several sources. About your excessive curiosity about matters not connected with your business.”
I did my best to appear baffled. “What’s unusual about asking questions in new country? My associates haven’t been here before. It’s been years since I was. Things have changed. Anyway, this is one of the most interesting places in the empire.”
“Also one of the most dangerous, trader. Candle, is it? Mr. Candle, you were stationed here in service. What unit?”
That I could answer without hesitation. “Drake Crest. Colonel Lot. Second Battalion.” I was here, after all.
“Yes. The Roses mercenary brigade. What was the Colonel’s favorite drink?”
Oh, boy. “I was a pikeman, Colonel. I didn’t drink with the brigadier.”
“Right.” He paced. I could not tell if that answer worked or not. Drake Crest hadn’t been a flashy, storied outfit like the Black Company. Who the hell would remember anything about them? After a time. “You must understand my position. With that thing buried out there paranoia becomes an occupational hazard.” He pointed in the direction the Great Barrow must lie. Then he stalked off.
“What the hell was all that?” Goblin asked.
“I don’t know. And I’m not sure I want to find out. Somehow, we got ourselves into big trouble.” That for the benefit of eavesdroppers.
Goblin accepted his cue. “Damnit, Candle, I told you we shouldn’t come up here. I told you the Oar people would have an arrangement with the Guard.”
One-Eye jumped in then. They really ragged me. Meantime, we talked it over with the finger speech, decided to wait the Colonel out.
Not much choice anyway, without tipping our hands.
Thirty-Two
Imprisoned in the Barrowland
It was bad. Far worse than we suspected. Those Guard guys were paranoid plus. I mean, they didn’t have an inkling who we were. But they did not let that slow them.
Half a platoon showed up suddenly. Rattle and clang at the door. No talk. Grim faces. We had trouble.
“I don’t think they’re going to turn us loose,” Goblin said.
“Out,” a sergeant told us.
We went out. All but Tracker. Tracker just sat there. I tried a funny. “He misses his dog.”
Nobody laughed.
One of the Guards punched Tracker’s arm. Tracker took a long time turning, looking at the man, his face an emotional blank.