Chapter 10: Book 1 – Chapter 9

Selora tumbled from the rented bed, gripping her side with both hands, attempting to ward off the stabbing pain that now wracked her ribs. Gritting her teeth, she looked up to see Talon looming over her, tapping the toe of his right boot against the ground, shuffling his footwear back into place. 

“Get up.” 

Eyelids still heavy, she struggled to her feet. Looking through the single window bleeding light into the room, Selora guessed it to be about six or seven in the morning. “Why are we getting up so early?” Her words came out cracked and uneven. 

Talon rolled his eyes. “You’re the one who has a job to do. While you’re taking care of that, I’m going to continue looking for my mark.” 

Selora pushed herself to her feet, rubbing her side. “What about Torden?” 

“Couldn’t wake him. He sleeps like a rock. I even tried kicking him, that just made him snore louder.” Thumb over shoulder, he pointed towards Torden. 

Sprawled on the floor, his chair toppled over next to him, Torden snored; and it was obnoxious. 

“If you want to try and wake him, knock yourself out.” Just before heading out, Talon spoke over his shoulder. “If I were you, I’d start by investigating around the guard barracks, but be careful. If you get caught, you’re pretty much dead, so wear a hood and leave your bow, it’ll just get in the way.” 

Talon shut the door behind him, his absence leaving the room somehow warmer. 

* * *

Exhausted from his meeting with the Prime of Law, Captain Evrich was able to carry only a light conversation with his two closest subordinates as they patrolled the streets. A conversation his younger escort, grinning from ear to ear, was happy to start. 

“So, how was your meeting? Exciting, I hope.” Private Goddard was an oddity to Evrich; charming and full of energy, yet fully content with the uneventful work of standing guard for hours on end. Aside from the occasional scouting run, Goddard never left Marbleton. He even refused the offer to come with them during their latest excursion down south, missions high-ranking guards would often take to gather good will with other cities. 

Nonetheless, Evrich liked the young private, often humoring him to keep relations positive. “If you find the prospect of sitting in a stuffy room, discussing budgets and guard routes exciting, then yes, very.” 

Goddard chuckled, his voice full of mirth and youthful energy. “Oh, yes, fascinating. Almost makes me want to become an accountant, with all those numbers and… routes.” The youth trailed off as he realized he’d chosen the wrong analogy, looking over to the second of Evrich’s escorts for assistance. “Do accountants decide routes of any kind?” 

Lieutenant Sigurd sighed, the gruff, older man having little patience for idle chit-chat. “Not to my knowledge, private, no.” 

“Pity. Who, then, decides both budgets and routes?” 

“City planners, and Guard Captains, apparently.” The lightest of smiles came across Captain Evrich’s lips as Private Goddard snickered. 

* * *

Annoyed as she was, Selora wasn’t stupid, and knew genuine advice when she heard it. So, as she hopped into the stone building lined with beds, wooden chests and weapon racks, the elf tugged on her cloak’s hood, casting her face in deep shadow. Crouching as she went, glancing around corners with care, Selora also began to understand why Talon had said to do this so early. Most of the guards were either out for morning drills, or stationed at their posts around Marbleton. Few, if any, remained in the barracks. 

Passing by dozens of nondescript lockers and trunks, Selora headed for the captain’s office. Given the symmetrical design, it wasn’t hard to guess its position. 

Her soft, leather boots padded against the rough stone floor, making nary a sound as she crept along, hand trailing gently against the walls of stone and mortar. The dead halls echoed the clunking armour of a straggling guard, rushing off to wherever he was supposed to be. By the time he’d passed by Selora, she lay flat beneath a cot, hidden from the guard’s sight. 

The distant clicking of a shutting door alerted Selora to the passerby’s leaving. Sliding out from below the bed on the tips of her fingers, she continued down the halls, unhindered by any further interruptions. Through the large, central room that acted as the guards’ lounge, she found the captain’s office, the large set of doors standing out from the rest of the barracks’ singular entrances. No guards stood sentry, allowing the elf to simply slip in. 

The scent of crusty parchment and ink wafted into Selora’s nose as she was greeted by the sight of chaos. Stacks of bundled papers littered the office, covering the surface of the finely-crafted  mahogany desk facing the doorway. An empty inkwell sat next to all of the parchment, holding a stained red feather. A stamp, depicting two circling doves, laid next to several sticks of gold wax, one of which had been used down to a stump. 

Creeping around to the front of the desk, Selora began rummaging through the piles of documents. Scanning for anything that might seem out of the ordinary, she found little of note amidst the countless reports, invoices, and letters of complaint. 

In her haste, Selora’s elbow knocked over a stack of papers, scattering them across the floor. Hissing, Selora crouched down, eyes landing on an intricately-designed envelope, its crimson seal broken. With a gentle touch, she picked it up, pealing the flap back to read the letter folded within. 

* * *

Scarlett skirted her way around the barracks, threading through the alley leading directly to the captain’s office; exactly where Rickard had said it would be. Slipping her dagger through the crack of the two window panes, she popped the latch, leaving only the barest mark upon the polished copper. Sweeping aside the aqua drapes blocking her path, Scarlett froze. 

Rickard’s job had been a simple one: search the guard captain’s office for something, anything, that would incriminate the new regiment. Something substantial enough to take further action upon. Not anticipating action, she’d sent Rolt back to the inn; she would be completely alone. 

Yet, there was a girl. Crouched over a pile of spilled papers, an opened envelope in one hand, and neatly decorated paper in the other. Staring, wide-eyed and mouth agape. “Uh…” 

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Scarlett smiled, instantly recognizing her for a thief; a novice, given her reaction, and complete lack of tools. “Hey there. Don’t mind me, and continue your rummaging. I’m just here for some blackmail.” Swinging her legs into the room, she let the curtain fall slack behind her. Scarlett began searching through the drawers of the large, ornate desk. Catching the girl in her peripheral, Scarlett bit her lower lip, trying desperately to ignore the thief. She was scrambling, trying desperately to stack the papers, having resealed the envelope she’d been looking at, and pocketing it. It was almost pitiful in how out of place she was. 

Within one of the desk’s drawers, Scarlett found her own bundle of similarly sealed envelopes, bound together by a crossing of thin strings. 

As the thief girl put the restacked pile of papers on the desk, Scarlett went to undo the binding on the stack of envelopes, stopping as the office doors clicked. Scarlett moved quick, spinning on her heels, using her cloak to conceal her back as she dived out through the window. 

So, as the door swung open, and a trio of guards entered, they saw only the thief girl and a shadow leaping from the window. “Halt!” A booming voice commanded, followed by the grunt of the novice thief, landing hard on her shoulder, tumbling into the alley. 

Scarlett needed a distraction, and the thief was the best she had. So, not looking back, she ran. 

* * *

Distracted by the presence of the redhead, Selora failed to hear the clacking footsteps of the returning guards, and the clicking latch as the door swung open. The other woman turned and ran, leaving the elf alone to escape from the armoured men now chasing her, their voices trailing behind. 

“Stop!” 

“You’re under arrest!” 

The guards continued shouting for a good minute, eventually going quiet as they realized that she wasn’t going to stop. Into the city streets and through the marketplace, the only sound between the three was their haggard breathing. Selora weaved between the shopping masses, civilians jumping back to avoid her. Some were then quickly knocked over as the guards barreled through them, angry shouts hurled as they got to their feet. 

“Sorry!” Selora shouted back once before deciding it best the guards not hear her voice. 

As a battle of attrition, the elf, dressed lightly in her leathers, outpaced the bulky humans in their plated steel. She slipped through a small alleyway, far too small for the armoured men to fit through, even her lithe form put under pressure by the tight fit. 

“Go around!” A guard commanded as the other one tried to squeeze into the alleyway after Selora. He pulled back quickly as he failed to fit, disappearing from Selora’s sight. She reached the other side and was treated to a dense crowd of shoppers. 

Breathing a sigh of relief, Selora tugged her hood from her head, untying the cloak to blend in with the crowd, pretending to go about her business amidst the stalls. 

* * *

Having made their way back to base without incident, Evrich’s mood had lightened, Goddard’s charm and energy having done wonders in lifting the captain’s spirits. 

Lieutenant Sigurd, however, was on edge the entire way through town. “Something just hasn’t felt right, that’s all,” he said. 

It was a sentiment Evrich knew well, as recent events over the past month had led to strange, and rapid changes within the city. All having started at the appointment of the new Archmage. 

There was no time to elaborate on the thought as he pushed open the doors to his office. A small girl, her features hidden in the deep shadows of her hood, was slouched over a stack of his papers, another cloaked figure vaulting from the window, disappearing. Instinct and training kicked in, Evrich and Sigurd’s swords drawn in unison as the captain shouted. “Halt!” 

His command only pushed the girl into action, turning to dive through the window. As the fastest among the three guards, Private Goddard was the first one out, vaulting over the windowsill with ease, his armour looking almost weightless in his movements.  

Sigurd rushed after the two. “Stay here, Captain, and check on what they stole. We’ll chase her down.” 

Huffing at his Lieutenant’s commanding tone, the captain began digging through his desk, horror overtaking him as he saw what had been taken. After a moment, his horror turned to anger, and with a beastly roar he smashed his fists against his desk, his outburst chipping the fine mahogany. “Damn it! Damn it all!” 

Goddard and Sigurd returned within the hour, having lost both the girl and the letters. 

* * *

Rolt sat stock still as Scarlett pushed open the door, holding up the stack of envelopes she’d pilfered.  

“So, bad news first: I didn’t find any concrete dirt on the new guard. Good news, is that I found something to keep us occupied for a little while.” She plopped the stack down of envelopes on their room’s table and sat down. “Let’s get to it, big guy.” 

Silently, Rolt reached for the stack of envelopes, opening the first of many letters. 

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