by H. M. Clarke
“He’s not that much of an Ass. He has a good head on his shoulders when he decides to use it.”
“Sure, but he uses it so rarely. Most of what comes out of his mouth is piss and shit which is why I keep calling him an ass.”
Dagan stared back at her but said nothing.
“How old are you, anyway?” She finally asked, not knowing what else to say.
“I’ve just turned thirty.”
“So what else are you besides a Magister and a Wilder Mage?”
“That is something I will tell you when you are ready to hear it.”
“I’m ready now.”
“No you’re not. Now, if you will excuse me, I am going to bunk down, we do have an early start tomorrow.” With that Dagan rose again from his bench and slipped out from the table.
“I will meet you outside your barracks tomorrow before daybreak.” And then he left with Donal and Ashe giving him belated ‘goodnights’ and Ryn staring in shock after him.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Wakey wakey or no eggs and bakey.” Knuckles rapped hard on the door again. Ryn picked up a pillow and threw it hard at the offending door. It hit with a dull thud and fell softly to the flagstones. The knocking abruptly stopped.
“I’m up! Just let me finish getting dressed.”
“You need to be out of bed to do that,” came Dagan’s deep voice through the door.
How can he know that? Ryn thought as she glared at the door. Probably just a lucky guess though. “Is it even morning yet? It doesn’t feel like I’ve had much sleep,” Ryn asked as she dragged her feet from under the nice warm covers of her bunk and hung them over the edge of her bed, psyching herself up to touch her bare feet to the cold stone floor of her room.
“Technically it’s morning. It just a little earlier than planned.”
Nervous high pitched laughter echoed from outside quickly followed by Dagan’s exasperated cry. “Oh by Bellus, put some clothes on!”
“We weren’t expecting a man-”
“Just go back to your rooms. Now.”
Hurried footsteps and then silence quickly followed that exchange from the corridor. Ryn took the plunge and dropped her feet to the floor and dressed quickly in the black-and-white uniform of the Blackwatch Constable. Ryn pulled her socks and boots on before she slipped her shield straps over one shoulder and draped her scale mail over the other. In her left hand, she carried her sword. She would put the scale mail on once they arrived at the arena.
“You can come in now.”
Dagan quickly slipped through the door and closed it behind him, leaning back against it with a sigh. He was dressed in black as he was the day before but without the backpack and with his staff harnessed to his back.
“How did you get in the women’s barracks anyway Dagan? Men are not allowed in here during the hours of darkness,” she asked as she adjusted the weight of her scale mail on her shoulder.
“Let’s just say that I have the authority to go where I please if it is connected with pursuing my orders.” Dagan pushed himself away from the door and came to stand next to Ryn while giving her room a cursory sweep.
“There is not much here yet. I only got my assigned Constables room yesterday…” Ryn felt the need to explain the lack of décor and the reason why things were still sticking haphazardly out of the trunk at the foot of her bunk. She had not felt like unpacking when she got back to her new room after dinner.
“Yes, yes.” Dagan waved away her explanation and then turned his piercing golden gaze on her. “But you need to put that scale mail on and buckle that pig sticker to your hips. And grab your backpack.”
“Why? I thought we were training this morning.” Ryn asked, confused about the turn in the conversation.
“We are, but not in the arena. I want to see what you are like… on the job so to speak.”
“On the job? You mean Mage Hunting?”
“That Royal Warrant will not sit and wait for things to be sorted out here, will it? I have leads to follow before they dry up.”
“Where are we going then? And will we get breakfast?”
“Trust a warrior to think of their stomach,” Dagan muttered with a smile. “The kitchen staff have kindly prepared us a traveler’s pack to take with us. You can eat in the saddle.”
“Excellent.” Ryn dropped her things onto her bunk and picked up the scale mail. The metal of the scale mail tinkled like a fall of hail coming off of a metal shield as she shook it out. She loved the sound it made and even loved the smell of the metal links and the oil that she used to protect them from rust. “Here.” Ryn held the shoulder and arms out to Dagan. “Can you hold this while I slip into it? It will make it easier and quicker to put on.”
“Sure.” Dagan gripped the scale mail, using his fingers to hold it open at the neck.
“I see you’ve done this before,” Ryn said as she disappeared into the skirt end and shucked her way into the mail, threading her arms through its loose sleeves. Dagan held the neck opening up as she popped her head out of it.
“A few,” was all he said and stepped away as she grabbed her sword belt and strapped it around her waist and then settled it so that the scabbard did not catch her legs as she walked.
She then grabbed her pack from the footlocker and her new Blackwatch cloak from the top of her trunk. “I’m ready. Lead me to the stables and that food pack, I’m starving.”
Dagan raised a hand to his mouth to stifle a laugh. She then realized that something was missing from Dagan. “Why aren’t you wearing the uniform? I’m sure you were given one yesterday.”
“I was. It does not mean that I have to wear it everywhere. Where we are going I do not want to be known as Blackwatch.”
Ryn looked at the black cloak she had just picked up and then looked back at Dagan. She had been so looking forward to being able to wear her uniform today on her first day as a Constable…
Dagan must have known what was going through her head, he smiled and laid his hand on top of her cloak. “Wear it. If anyone asks, you are my sister on leave to help me. Luckily we both have black hair so it will be believed.” He then turned to the door. “Come, let’s be off before the rest of the keep wakes. The fewer people who know our comings and goings the better.”
Dagan slipped out her door and Ryn quickly followed. If he had wanted to leave unnoticed, then meeting those girls earlier in the corridor might not go much in his favor… then a thought occurred to Ryn. They caught him lurking outside her door, at night, in the dark. Oh by Bellus’s Bloody Balls what whispers will she be coming back to tonight? She swallowed hard. There was nothing she can do about it now. If she gets reported, then Dagan can explain it all to the Knights Commander.
Once out of the barracks, the two moved carefully around the buildings. At this time in the morning, there were only a few guards walking their patrols and the night servants running errands or preparing to get the kitchens running for the day.
With luck, they made it to the stables unchallenged where Ryn saw two horses tied to the hitching post closest the door, saddled and ready to go. She also noted the bedrolls tied to the back of the saddles along with the bulging well-stocked saddle bags. She glanced sharply at Dagan.
“Mine is the black, I’ve given you the blue roan. The stable master said that you and the mare have a good working relationship.”
“Where are we going? Those saddles look packed for more than just a day trip.”
Dagan smiled as if pleased with her question. “You are right, those saddles are packed for more than a day’s ride. In my line of work, it pays to be prepared for all contingencies.”
“Where are we going then?”
“As I said before, we are going to chase down a few leads before they disappear. If Ben Henly goes to ground, we may never find him again. At least not until it is too late.” Dagan began to unstring his mount from the hitching post as he continued talking. “It’s all been cleared with the Knights Commander. Because of the Pairing, you have
been assigned to work with me, and as I am the senior constable, you come under my orders.”
“Does that mean I now work for the crown?”
“You work with me but you are still Blackwatch. Me, on the other hand, is a different matter. I work for the crown but am now tied to the Blackwatch which will throw the Lord Tribune into a bit of a quandary when he receives word of what happened here. He will not be happy.”
“You weren’t much happy about it either,” Ryn said as she released the roan from the hitching post.
“No I wasn’t, and I am sorry. I did not mean to ruin the day for you. But being a member of the Blackwatch means being bonded to someone else for the rest of your natural life. Being a Magister is a solitary duty, worrying only about your own self-preservation and getting the bad guy.” Dagan sighed and then turned to look Ryn in the face. “If only the Blackwatch did not insist on using the Proving Spell… but the theory is that bonded constables will be more dedicated to the cause and to each other than unbonded warriors.”
“You’ve learned enough to know the reasons behind that decision though?” Ryn asked.
“Yes. I understand the reasoning at the time. The defeat of the Two Kingdoms armies by the Turkers left the warriors disheartened and wanting to see their families. What little was left of the two armies deserted in droves instead of consolidating together to make a cohesive fighting force. It wasn’t until the personal guard to King Galhadin wanted to show their loyalty to their monarch that they undertook the Proving and then together with their King rebuilt the army, recruited allies and then pushed the Turkers back to the desert where they belong and claimed back their country. They became the first Blackwatch.”
Dagan smiled and to Ryn it looked genuine. “I know I am not the mage you were expecting to be paired with, I just want you to know that I do take this commitment seriously. And I am sorry if hunting fugitives is not as exciting as whatever regular Blackwatch duties are.”
“Are you kidding? If I wasn’t assigned to you, I would be looking forward to nothing but drills, fight practice and paired bouts. And having to spend time with Banar. At least doing this I’ll feel like I’m doing something useful.”
Dagan gave a small chuckle and tugged his mount forward to bring it out into the stable yard. Ryn moved to follow but was stopped at the door by a loud screech and a flurry of feathers and wind as a large black shape settled itself on the pommel of her saddle.
A flash of blue light from the corner of her eye made Ryn aware that Dagan had gone for his staff. “It’s only Peck. He lurks around the stables at night trying to catch mice,” Ryn said as she reached up to give Peck a scratch on his head. The bird crooned and angled his head so that she would scratch where he wanted.
“That’s a Nabolean crow isn’t it?”
“Yup.”
“He follows you?”
“Yup.”
“Interesting…” Dagan said rubbing the edge of his index finger across his lips. Then in one quick motion, he swept himself into the saddle. “We’d best get going before the keep starts to wake.”
Ryn quickly pulled herself up onto the blue roan and Peck launched himself into the air and slowly began to circle as he waited for them to move.
“Peck does follow you everywhere then.”
“Yup.”
“Does he give warnings?”
“What do you mean?”
“Does he warn you of others on the road with you?”
“He’ll caw a certain way if there are strangers approaching.”
“Really? Most useful.” And with that Dagan clicked his tongue and tapped his heels to his horse’s sides. The Black snorted but began to walk out of the stable yard.
Ryn quickly followed suit.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Brookhaven Keep sat proudly atop its hill in an elegant array of elder trees and manicured gardens. Built of the whitest stone that flashed blindingly whenever the rays of the sun crossed its gleaming towers, it was once built for elegance and luxury. Over the ages that had changed. Defensive walls, gates, mazes, and death traps had been built around what was once, ornate outer walls and were so successful that the keep had never been taken by force. These newer additions blended so well with the old keep that it was now hard to tell where the old finished and the newer additions began.
Brookhaven Keep was now at peace and had been for the last six generations. During this time a town had sprung up around its walls which catered to the keep and its occupants, for Brookhaven Keep was now the regional center for learning, magical knowledge and wisdom for the Blackwatch order in the country of Mrycea. The children of high borns, kings, Earls, and commoners are sent here to learn the way of war and the way of peace from the Blackwatch teachers and Masters.
Ryn and Dagan rode silently through the pre-dawn of Brookhaven Town. Around them, the streets and houses still slept in the last darkness before the dawn, though as they moved through the towns outskirts, warm yellow light streamed from some houses and the smell of baking bread and griddle cakes could be caught on the cool morning breeze.
The smell reminded Ryn’s stomach that it was still hungry and it grumbled accordingly.
“Dagan, do you mind if I grab something from the food bag? My stomach might get loud enough to wake the dead if I leave it much longer.”
“Sure.” Ryn caught the small smile with Dagan’s reply as the warm light from one of the houses momentarily caressed his face as they passed. “If the cook packed some scones, pull one out for me. I’ve not had breakfast either.”
“Let me take a look.” Ryn twisted in the saddle and unbuckled the bulging saddlebag and grabbing more by feel than sight, the light canvas bag that still felt warm to the touch from the Keep’s early morning baking. She pulled it out and rested it in front of her on the saddle where she unlaced the flap and pulled out two freshly baked scones that were sitting right on top.
“The cook must have read your stomach Dagan,” Ryn said handing one of the scones across to him.
Dagan took it and held it to his nose and inhaled deeply. “Love the smell of freshly baked scones.” He then took a bite and his face lit up in delight. “If I knew the cooks at Brookhaven were this good, I might have joined the Blackwatch a long time ago.”
“Maybe you should tell the Knight Commander to put that on the recruiting posters,” Ryn said grinning.
“Maybe I will. Or maybe I’ll just ask the Lord Tribune to steal away Brookhaven’s cook for the Magister’s and the Aequitas Tribunal. Bellus knows they need a decent cook.”
By now the two had ridden past the last houses of Brookhaven Town and were now following the road out into the open countryside.
Ryn brushed the crumbs from her cloak and took a swig from her water bag to help wash the food down. “Is now a good time to ask where we are going?” she asked as she secured the water back to her saddle. “Or are we just going to ride aimlessly around the countryside until we run into this Ben Henly?”
“Ah, no. No, we are not. We are going to the other side of the Daggerthorns. That was where I was heading yesterday when we met. I’m just hoping that having the Blackwatch in the area didn’t scare the buggers off.”
Ryn’s eyes widened in surprise. “That’s a bit of a trek. Who are we going to meet? Are we going to a town?”
Dagan gave a small laugh. “You are so full of questions aren’t you?”
His black horse snorted and nodded its head, and that’s when Ryn realized that she could clearly see it. She looked up along the road ahead of them and noticed for the first time that the landscape about them was now slowly turning from inky darkness to a grey-white pallor. The sun was finally rising from its nightly slumber.
“Are you going to answer then?” Ryn asked as she opened the food bag again and handed another scone to Dagan and fished another out for herself.
He took a bite of the scone and closed his eyes as he savored its buttery goodness. He nodded and Ryn took a bite from her own as she waited for h
im to speak.
“We are going to a place near Danzig to speak to a man about a horse.”
“Danzig? Donal’s from Danzig.”
“Is he? He may know of the man I wish to speak to if he’s been in Danzig the last few years. What do you know of the village Kathryn?” Dagan’s question threw Ryn and put her thinking straight on the back foot. She tried to dredge up everything she ever heard Donal say about the place.
“Ahh, only what Donal has told me. That it is a small backwater that makes its living from the Daggerthorn marsh through fishing and harvesting those sweet smelling rushes that the gentry like to have their mattress filler made out of. Donal also said about twenty people live there and they are all related to him somehow or other, though he is the first mage that he knows of to come out of the village.”
“He’s not the first mage, and he probably won’t be the last.”
“Really?” Ryn asked in surprise. “Does this Ben Henly come from there?”
Dagan shook his head. “No, but he does have in-laws living around there.”
“Is that who we are going to talk to?”
“No. We are going to talk to a man about a horse, as I said.”
Ryn tried not to groan in frustration. This conversation was like chasing a puppy around a farmyard. Always running around in circles and not getting anywhere. Best start going in the opposite direction then and try to catch Dagan unawares.
“What is so special about this horse then?”
Ryn could now see the smile on Dagan’s lips which then disappeared as he took another bite from his scone. “Wait and see,” he mumbled around his food. “Wait and see.”
Dagan finished the rest of his scone and then washed it down with a swig from his water flask. “If you must insist on talking, you might as well tell me about yourself. If we are going to be stuck working together, we might as well get to know one another.” Dagan arched a dark eyebrow at her, inviting her to say something.
