by Kris Schnee
Jakob groaned and yawned.
"I can handle it," Irene said, but looked exhausted too.
Dominic was glad for the excuse to get a good night's sleep, but steeled himself. "We imposed on this village in the State's name. We need to hold ourselves to a high standard and get this news to the forts, so they can react."
Jakob reluctantly nodded. "By the way, these are farm horses. There'll be no plowing here until they're returned."
"All the more reason to get this trip over with. Nap, everyone."
* * *
They set out by moonlight, aided by floating some amber glow-lights in front of them. They told each other stories to keep awake. Jakob told of the days before he was born, before the uprising that had ended so badly, when Shirker's Noose had another name. "Outset Island," he said. "It was a place for trade and exploration. Ships set out for as far away as the Madlands. Now... just to the mainland and back."
Irene launched into a story about a Servant who'd made his horse into a familiar. "They were inseparable, and they visited our village every year. The others were interchangeable, but we always knew, here was that guy with the horse, and we saved our worst disputes to get resolved by him. Jakob, why haven't you gone ahead and gotten one yourself yet? A familiar, I mean. I've seen you hanging around the menagerie."
"I don't feel like I can do one justice yet, not until I know more."
She laughed. "They're just animals, Jakob. They're only here to serve us."
Jakob's face was masked, but his hands tightened on his horse's reins. "I wonder if Bound could have the spell cast on them. Nobody's tried it."
Irene said, "A Bound as someone's familiar?"
"What? No! I mean giving them familiars."
"I kind of like my version better. Imagine if everyone were mentally linked to the Boundless One. We wouldn't need to fool around with messengers; we could have the One watch everyone directly."
In theory, that would be ideal. Yet the thought made Dominic feel queasy. He rode on in silence.
* * *
At sunrise, Irene whispered to Dominic, "I saw something move by those rocks."
Dominic halted his horse. He heard nothing unusual besides the whistle of wind and crashing of waves. "Deer?"
"No. There was an arm, behind that one."
He leaned toward the others and said, "Willing to take a risk?" They nodded. "You two go left. I'll go right, and we'll see what bandit or fugitive this is. Weapons ready." He released his pack horse's reins, and galloped. His darts rose at his command into a cloud around him, points forward and shining with green light.
The three Servants circled around a boulder. Dominic shouted, "Who's there?"
A bearded young man gave a frightened cry and stood up from a crouch, brandishing a dagger. He found himself caught with his back to the stone. The man swore in gibberish. No, that was Mithraic language!
Dominic faced him, darts high, while Jakob and Irene raised their own weapons into the air. "A westerner scout?" Dominic said, using his own poor Mithraic.
Their prisoner stepped a few inches one way, then another, seeking any advantage and finding none. "No. I haven't done anything!"
"Irene, cover him."
She tried to get another angle of attack against the man to keep him from fleeing. He leaped backward and scrambled over the rock. Dominic was in the best position to chase him, so he leaped his horse over a smaller stone and sent his arrows raining down, trying only to make an impression this time. Two of the points outraced the foreigner, split around him, and stabbed the dirt near his onrushing feet. He swerved and tripped, then looked up with helpless rage. Irene came close enough that she was able to threaten him too. Jakob was a few seconds behind.
Dominic dismounted and let his arrows thud into the grass. He took a few steps closer, drawing the knife at his own belt, and looked down at the helpless foreigner lying on the ground. "Good morning, sir. Can we help you?"
"I'm a Citizen, you metal-faced moron!" he said in accented Baccatan. He brushed black hair away from his forehead to reveal the triad mark branded there.
Dominic stared him down. "Yet you were alone, and hiding from us, and reacted with foreign talk, in fringe territory. Forgive me for mistakenly thinking you looked suspicious." He glanced over at Jacob and Irene. "Thoughts?"
"I could look for a boat stashed nearby," said Jakob.
Dominic saw the man's face react to Jakob's suggestion. "Do it. Citizen, where do you serve? How many Bound are you responsible for?"
"None." He hesitated. "My name is Perrin Cadiz. I come from the League of Mithrol, and was taken from my home by Baccatan pirates not far from here. I impressed my owner, a judge, into sponsoring me as a Citizen. She fell into trouble and I..." The man wormed his way into a sitting position, able to feign comfort like a cat pretending it hadn't just fallen off a couch. "I left her. I'm allowed to do that now. You have no business chasing me."
Jakob whistled from a bit farther north. "Rowboat and a stashed canteen and bread, tucked away in the rocks. Odds and ends too like some rope."
Dominic smiled. "Good; bring the rope." He faced Perrin and said, "Forgive me, sir, but if I didn't know better I'd guess you were planning on a vacation someplace besides where you belong."
"Where I belong? How dare you, thug! Your people kidnapped me and sold me to be one of your Bound slaves! If you had any sense of honor you'd send me on my way."
Irene snickered. "Bound slaves? You really don't understand the State."
Jakob remained silent.
Dominic held up one hand while keeping his darts hovering with the other. "Unless you have travel papers, I'll need to carry you along with us." There was a bounty for catching a Citizen fleeing the State with money, even assuming he wasn't wanted for other crimes.
"I don't. Fine; you have me at your mercy, dogs."
The timing was suspicious too. "Was there someone in particular you hoped to meet?"
"No."
They did Perrin the courtesy of retrieving the food, water and money he'd hidden in the rowboat. "Not much for an escape attempt."
"You wouldn't understand." Perrin walked along, tied at the wrists by a rope that led to Irene's saddle.
Dominic caught him glancing at the rope as if planning his escape. "By the way, if you cast any spells, I won't be able to bring you back alive. As for not understanding, try me. We have a ride ahead." Dominic tried to sound flippant, to hide his curiosity. He'd never met a native Mithraian before.
The party trotted ahead toward the border forts, per the original plan. There would be people to turn the rogue Citizen over to, and to determine if he was a spy. Perrin said, "You people have your ways, and we have ours. I'm not one of you, so it's none of your damn business what I do so long as I'm not trying to burn your country down on the way out. But what do you care, right? People like me are just your bitches. Everyone is."
"Watch your tongue!" said Irene. "Even I have authority to punish you here and now."
In theory, Dominic didn't outrank any of them, not even Citizen Perrin. Dominic could foresee the man getting himself hanged for his own stupidity and wagging tongue, before Dominic could coax anything interesting out of him. Indirection might help, then. "Before anyone judges anyone, it's proper to hear testimony. It's only fair that we let you speak, to convince us to spare you. Swearing doesn't particularly interest me."
Perrin gulped at the three masked faces around him, but refused to avert his eyes. "You don't know my homeland. Mithrol is the land of magic and virtue and commerce, of griffin knights and busy, beautiful rivers and a High Temple where the Sun King's power protects us all from the Madlands."
Irene said, "Ha; a High Temple of your own? What do you keep in there, the sun?"
"More or less." Perrin smiled faintly. "In Mithrol there are no slaves. Not really, not exactly. Here, everyone is your slave but the people you call Servants. If you'd come from a place like my home, from a merchant family with plans for you, wouldn't
you fight to the last breath to get back there and leave this wretched land behind?"
"How long did you live there, to have such a glowing opinion of it?"
"All my life, until three years ago. And already I rose within your country from pirate captive to Citizen! Any of us could whip you."
Dominic glanced at the rope still restraining Perrin's hands. "These pirates you mentioned; where are they now?"
Irene said, "Sir, he probably means the State Interdiction Fleet."
Dominic frowned behind his mask. There were ships run by Citizens who'd officially retired from the navy, putting them outside of proper authority. Their raids were illegal, but the bounty on their heads was laughably small.
"I have information," said Perrin. "It could help you, if you don't kill me."
Dominic said, "Really, now? You'd help us against the heroic Mithraic forces to spare your neck? How patriotic."
"Against the pirates, I mean!" Perrin's eyes darted back and forth. "They used to brag about their treasure and their fellow raiders. I could tell you things."
Dominic thought of the fishing village they'd commandeered so easily to help recover the wrecked Seahorse's cargo and crew. None of the boats there looked useful in battle, but the dock had looked like it might service something a bit heavier than a typical fisher. He made a note to look into the matter later, though he doubted the State would lift a finger to rein in unlicensed fighting craft that preyed on outsiders.
Dominic rubbed his chin and pretended to consider Perrin's offer. Really there was no reason to let him go or execute him immediately, so Dominic just wanted to pry what information he could from the man. "We've caught an interesting fish. Irene and Jakob, your opinion?"
Jakob played along. "I'd offer him at the fort in one piece, if he's amusing enough." Irene agreed.
"We'll ride on with our friend intact, then. Maybe he can tell us stories along the way." Not for the first or last time, he wished for some sort of lie detection spell.
Perrin talked, apparently to comfort himself. Dominic listened with only a question here and there. He sounded mocking, to his own ears, but really he felt differently. Half of the prisoner's reminiscence was probably a rosy-tinted lie, but it did sound interesting. Citizens called "barons" and "dukes" ruled over a type of Bound who had nearly the same legal status as their protectors. Those nobles had certain duties to their people, but weren't responsible for their food and lodging and medicine and everything else. "How do your Bound survive with so little protection?"
Perrin blinked, snapped out of a memory. "That's what you'll never understand, dogs. A peasant doesn't need a master to build a house for him. Once he's done with his tilling of the lord's field, or tending his beehives and dove-cotes or whatever the duty is, he can build his own damn cottage. And it'll be a better one than something his master 'gave' him, since he made it for his own family. I'd bet our fields are more productive than yours, too."
Dominic asked, "And your inquisitor duties are done not by masked Servants, but by... griffins?"
"The griffins are knights. They're people, blessed by the Great Sun King."
Curious, thought Dominic. Much of the foreigner's tale sounded familiar from rumors and scholarly essays, but with the details changed. Dominic meditated on the information as he rode. The Weave's threads brushed against him like a wind that whispered promises of secrets, treasure, greatness. The phantom strands had only to be brushed in a certain way to align into a very different pattern than he'd ever seen before, one that he still couldn't quite picture.
* * *
At last, when Dominic feared he'd fall asleep in the saddle, they sighted Border Fort One near the shore. Much like the little picket forts in the north, it was a simple half-circle stockade facing toward the enemy (roughly north) and sheltering a few siege ballistae and barracks cabins and related buildings. Bound soldiers spotted them right away, and Dominic waved hello and accepted their escort. He noted that they'd been allowed the use of bows as well as spears, which was a decision that meant serious fear of an enemy charge.
Citizen Hanse, appointed local commander, hurried out of bed half-dressed to shake the Citizens' hands. "It's an honor to be given this command. Welcome to the outskirts of scenic Saint Wylan. Did you bring new orders, Servants?"
Dominic said, "First of all, sir, may I suggest having someone take charge of our captive? He's either a runaway or a spy."
Hanse nodded and snapped his fingers, causing Perrin to be grabbed and hauled away sullenly. Then Hanse hustled the Servants into his drafty wooden office to give them a much-needed cup of hot wine each.
Dominic said, "Thank you. My understanding is that you're being left to wait?"
"Ach, that's all I get to do since I came here." The Citizen's heavy pacing made the bare floorboards of his office creak.
"Well, we have news." Dominic let the other Servants explain the battle at sea.
Hanse smacked one fist into his palm. "Damn, this could mean another delay! I got assigned here from way over on the eastern hills, where I got to play the east tribes off against each other. It's been a challenge to adapt to the west. These barbarians have their act together."
"Your troops seem to be alert, sir," said Dominic. "We'll help however we can, though right now we could really use some rest."
"Of course, of course. So, what magic do you have? Can you do that thing with the arrows? Yes? How about the leaves-in-your-face spell? And the Rapid Rampart? Healing? Ah, nice. Between the three of you, I'm a bit more equipped to attack Saint Wylan if we ever get the chance."
Irene sounded eager. "Will there be war, then?"
"After a blatant attack like what you faced, I think it's finally time to show the enemy what we can do on land. Otherwise they'll move first before long. Already they've driven us farther back last year, when they put up longer-range weapons on their walls. And compared to our defenses... I'm no mage, but I can make our stockade creak and sway if I push hard."
Jakob said, "You'd rather be on offense, then?"
"Right. We can't hold here against more than a bunch of herdsmen with pointy sticks. I'm used to that sort of threat or a little more. But the westies' walls are stone, and their weapons are looking nastier each time someone checks." Citizen Hanse gestured excitedly to a map of the nearby land, where wooden pawns represented various ships and armies. "But you haven't brought an order to attack?"
Dominic shook his head. "We were told to assist you, but not what you should do."
Hanse hissed in frustration. "Do the enemy in St. Wylan know whether their nation attacked our Seahorse yet?"
"Hard to say. There wasn't even an attempt to hail us before the fight, which suggests the Mithraists don't want to admit being at war yet. They might not have told their local High Citizen. Or... Duke, I think they call him."
Hanse paced, thinking. "I'll sign the paperwork to testify that you three deserve the bounty for that prisoner, whatever you do with him. Since your discretion is so broad, I can't help but suggest that you lead us off and get this battle started, instead of waiting with me for orders. Each week we hesitate, the enemy gets more aware that we're gathering men." Indeed, there were some tents outside the barracks area, suggesting recent reinforcements.
Jakob said, "What do you mean by 'getting started'? You want to provoke them into... making a raid here in such a way that you can counterattack?"
Hanse's broad-faced grin made him resemble a fox. "That's worked for me before, but that was elsewhere. What I'm thinking is, to send someone under a flag of truce, to go ask them their favorite color or something. I don't care what the excuse is, so long as you get into the city. And then you accidentally lean on the gate controls one night, or otherwise raise trouble."
Irene said, "What if they consider us to be at war already?"
"We won't tell them, and we'll see their reaction. It's a gamble." As an afterthought he said, "There's bounty money in it for you, of course, not just fun."
The S
ervants conferred. "We do have a prisoner we could return to his homeland," Jakob suggested.
Irene looked uncomfortable. "You're serious about wanting to go into an enemy city?"
Hanse said, "It was one of our cities once, you know. They took it from us by stealth and fraud."
Dominic looked at the war map on Hanse's table. It showed a well-defended city and an arc of Baccatan border forts to its south (this one), southeast and east. There was an entire Mithraic army somewhere to the west. Hanse was gambling, yes, but he was right that it might be possible to take the city now but not later. The plan was... not directly authorized by the capital, but Citizens had their own range of leeway to seize opportunities like this.
Dominic said, "So, we would take Perrin along and graciously offer him to the enemy. That might get us an audience with their Duke or army commander, but it wouldn't necessarily get us into the city. What if we said we'd been intrigued by Perrin's words, and wanted to see the wonders of Mithraic land for ourselves?" It wouldn't be a lie, for Dominic.
The other Servants eyed Dominic skeptically. Irene said, "Proposing to actually leave Baccatan territory is close to what we could have hanged Perrin for."
"We have broad authority, Irene. I've been to barbarian lands before and come back alive and unsullied. Besides, we have a Citizen bossing us around to make us go, don't we?"
Hanse smiled, "Right; I can give you signed 'orders' to protect you legally. Besides, if you succeed, the city will stop being foreign territory!"
Dominic nodded, glad for the excuse to go and learn. He just hoped it wouldn't end in fire. "I'll accept your orders, Citizen. Jakob? Irene?"
"Fine," Irene said. "For the chance to pull one over on them."
Jakob started to speak, paused, and spoke again. "We can make ourselves useful to the State this way, so yes."
Hanse shook all their hands again. "Excellent. We'll need to move soon to have the best chance of acting before word of the sea battle spreads. But you all look ready to collapse; let me show you to some beds."
10. Bells In the Night
