"Captain, a man just emerged from the small building across the way. He's coming over here. Who is he?"
"That would be the Reeve, sir. Reeve Comlin. The small building is the gaol and his office. Excellent man. Very disciplined. Looks out for the town and the region."
With the name confirmed, Brent flashed back to the Cathedral in Jergen and his conversation with the Dean. He had mentioned Reeve Comlin and said he was a good man. "Trustworthy?"
"Oh, aye, sir. Completely."
"He's the one that killed the assassin?" The captain didn't answer. He turned to see the captain looking thoughtfully at him. "Well?"
"Yes, sir. He's the one." The captain paused a moment. "He's not in any trouble is he? He did a good thing there. I sent my report. It was all in there. The assassin had killed one of our town members. Bill Burstone. Murdered him in his own home. The Reeve hunted him down and killed him. All within his authority."
"Yes. It's why I'm here. And no, the man is not in trouble. Quite the contrary. I was told about him. Told he was a good man. On that, have you seen anyone with black boots around town?"
The captain opened his mouth to speak when a rap on the door interrupted whatever he was about to say. Brent raised an eyebrow at him and the captain flushed a little. It was his office.
"Enter," he called out.
The door swung open and Reeve Comlin stood in the opening. He looked directly at Brent and looked him over quickly. Brent recognised the look: he was being professionally appraised. Already Brent could see the man carried himself with an air of authority and military bearing. His clothes made for easy movement and concealed knives. They also offered some protection. He carried his weight equally on both feet. A trained fighter. Skilled. Experienced. Not your typical small town Reeve, thought Brent and decided he liked the man.
Brent smiled and held out a hand. "Afternoon, Reeve Comlin. Good job killing the assassin. It's why I'm here. Thanks for joining us. You, me and Captain Gendred have much to discuss."
Comlin looked pointedly at the hand for a moment and then shook it firmly. "Pleasure's mine. How can I help?"
"I'm here to gather up the belongings of Bill Burstone — the chest more specifically — and return it to Munsten."
"Right to the point," replied Comlin.
"I've come a long way, sir."
Comlin looked him over and seemed to make a decision before replying. "Fair enough. The chest is in my gaol."
"In your gaol?"
"Yes, behind bars. Only safe place in town."
"Fair enough," he said, intentionally repeating the Reeve. "Let's go."
"Right now?"
"No time like the present. No offence, but I want to get started back to Munsten as soon as I can."
Comlin looked a little offended but, surprisingly, it was the captain that spoke next. "Jaipers too small for you already, sir?"
"No, Captain. The size of your town means little to me. I have my duty back in Munsten. I must return swiftly."
The captain and the Reeve exchanged a long look before Comlin took a step to the door and swung it open. "After you then, sir. Let's get this over with and have you on your way."
Comlin led the way out of the small garrison building and out into the late summer sun. James saw them emerge and joined them as they crossed over to the gaol. James matched Brent's stride and looked at him for instructions. "Stay with me, James. The chest is in the gaol."
"Aye, sir."
"Captain James Dixon meet Captain Gendred and Reeve Comlin."
"Gentlemen," said James.
"Captain," said Comlin and Gendred at the same time.
They marched over to the gaol and entered behind the Reeve and closed the door. Comlin took a key from around his neck and opened the small gaol cell. Brent was pleased to see the gaol was made of a solid steel cage that had been built as a free-standing structure in the building. So often bars were built into the wood structure. This, on the other hand, was a very secure gaol cell, thought Brent.
Comlin stepped aside and Brent could see the ornate chest resting in the middle of the cell. Brent looked at James and walked forward and opened the chest. Gold crowns gleamed up at him. Brent could barely believe the wealth contained in the large chest. Bill really did it, he thought. He took all that gold out of Munsten. I didn't believe it. I really didn't, but here it is.
"Has it been counted?" he asked.
Comlin jerked. "Actually, no."
Brent stood and turned to Comlin. "No?"
"Well, I wouldn't let anyone see it. Gendred had his men carry it over here. Bloody heavy thing. I didn't see the need to count it."
"How would you know if any went missing?"
"Missing?" scoffed the Reeve. "I am the only one with access to it, General. I would only have myself to blame, wouldn't I?"
Brent had no answer to that. Internally he wondered how a man could not want to count all that gold. The temptation must have been huge. Brent looked into the man's eyes and saw no deception. A solid man. Sure of himself. Interesting. Brent turned to James.
"We need to count it, James."
"Thought we might, sir. I'm eager."
"We'll divide the pile into four. Let's carry it out into the room and empty it."
Comlin grunted but nodded and together all four lifted the chest and hauled it out into the open area of the room. Brent swung the lid up and looked inside.
Comlin coughed into his hand and Brent looked at him. "If I can suggest?" Brent nodded. "Just dump it out."
Brent thought a moment and nodded. The two captains grabbed the chest on either side and tilted it over. Coins poured out in a steady metallic stream. The gold poured over the edge and then suddenly went from gold coins to copper.
"Woah!" yelled out Brent. "Stop!"
They righted the chest and Brent strode over and dug his hand deep into the coins and pulled out a handful. Dull copper pence filled his hand. Brent stared at the men and could see the surprise on their faces. He dug deeper and pulled out more copper coins. Brent thought back to his conversation with Bill Redgrave all those years ago.
"Aye, I took his gold. All of it," said Bill Redgrave as he finished his goblet of wine at Brent's kitchen table. He slammed the goblet down on the table and reached for the wine carafe over the selection of cheeses. Bill had just returned from his infiltration of the castle.
"How is that possible, Bill? He had a massive treasury of gold stored in the castle vault," said Brent.
"Emptied."
"Emptied. You took it all..." said a disbelieving Brent.
"You might say that," replied a smug Bill as he refilled his goblet.
Brent stared at the copper coins. "You might say that," he whispered and the beginnings of a laugh started deep within him.
Comlin stared at him. "Pardon?"
Brent chuckled.
"Something funny, General?" asked Comlin. Brent could hear the disdain in his voice and the need to laugh increased.
"Yes," was all he managed to say and laughter escaped him. James looked at him with something akin to horror. He was embarrassed for his General. Brent threw his head back and laughed out loud.
James, Gendred and Comlin stared at each other in disbelief and then turned as one to watch Brent laughing. Brent couldn't help himself. All those years thinking one thing and now finding out another. Ah, Bill, he thought. You were always a crafty bastard. The laughter took hold of him and he found himself sitting next to the pile of pence running his hands through the coins. Of the total perhaps a hundred coins were gold crowns. Somewhere in Munsten castle thousands of crowns were hidden. Enough to run the Realm for a year. Sitting right under the Lord Protector's ass. Fresh laughter stole Brent's breath and he pounded the chest lid in glee.
After a little while, Brent recovered and looked at the others. James was smirking and waiting to hear the joke. The Reeve and the garrison captain were looking a little more than apprehensive. Brent wiped at his face and calmed himself. Not proper fo
r a full General to be sitting on his ass in a town gaol, he thought and fought to keep more laughter away.
"Okay, sorry," he said and stood up and dusted himself off. "A lot of history there. All of it funny as hell. An inside joke." Comlin forced a smile. "I'll explain later. For now let's just get this coin back in the chest."
The four of them put all the coins back into the chest. They separated the gold crowns, counted ninety-three of them, and Comlin placed them in an empty burlap sack. They placed the sack on top of the other coins and closed the lid. The chest went back in the gaol and Comlin locked the door and returned the key around his neck. He paused for a moment and then took the key off and handed it wordlessly to Brent.
By now they were sweating profusely in the stifling small room. Comlin suggested they head to the Woven Bail Inn and Brent agreed. James ran over to tell Captain Mayer where they were going and joined them as they walked over.
This is a dry and dusty town, thought Brent. Children ran about carefree and barefoot. The common building looked vacant and out of use. The open area by the barracks could fit maybe a hundred men in formation but not much else. This is your typical frontier town in Belkin, he thought but kept his face neutral. Barebones and unforgiving. They arrived at the two story inn and Brent looked back over the south entrance of the town. His men were unloading the carts and the garrison seemed to be helping. Children ran laughing around them and asking for coin. A few townsfolk had gathered to watch. Peaceful and quiet, he thought and followed the others into the inn.
Comlin spoke to the owner and they were given one empty side of the Inn to themselves. The other guests were openly staring at Brent and James like they were on display. The proprietor shooed them away and soon they found themselves more or less alone. The owner called out to the back for food and then poured them beers and dropped the drinks on the table along with a pitcher of water and goblets.
The men took swigs of the beer and smacked their lips in appreciation. They sat in silence for a moment when, suddenly, an overly large and sweating man appeared, towering next to their table. He dropped a large platter covered in cheeses and prepared meats. Brent immediately sensed the man was deathly afraid of him. The man's eyes darted to the rank and insignia that marked him as being of the Lord Protector's Guard and to his face and back again. The whites of his eyes showed and Brent could sense the man was only moments from flight.
"Easy, sir," said Brent softly. He saw Comlin lean forward slightly and knew he would defend this obese man should he have to choose. "I have no quarrel with you. Whatever you fear it is not me."
The man took his apron in his hands and wrung them. He took a step backwards. "Sir, yes, sir. I-I..."
"You have nothing to fear. I have no idea who you are or what you are doing here in Jaipers. If Reeve Comlin trusts you — and I can see that he does since he has moved his hand to the knife at his waist — then I do, too. Fair?"
The man nodded and looked to Comlin. Comlin nodded and leant back in his seat and released his hold on his knife. "Go, Dempster," said Comlin. "Back to the kitchen. It's all right. They're here for Bill Burstone and the murder. Nothing else."
Dempster nodded furiously and backed away and disappeared into the back.
Brent watched Comlin carefully. This was a dangerous man. Skilled, quick, and loyal. A man you wanted to be your friend and not your enemy. Brent looked at James and smiled and James sat back and relaxed a little. Captain Gendred didn't know where to look or what had just happened. Perhaps that is why he is way out here, thought Brent. True to duty but oblivious to the obvious. Brent took a sip of beer and then picked a piece of dried meat from the selection in front of him. He chewed it and smiled around the burst of flavour that exploded across his tongue. Hot spices and herbs and something else. Something that made him feel alive. Life salt? he thought. Impossible, but it must be. This is an expensive sampling of food.
Comlin seemed to relax and took a long pull from his drink to prove it. "Dempster owns the Inn. You wouldn't know it. Most people think it's John who owns it — the fellow who just served us beer. It's an arrangement. Problem is, Dempster forgets he owns it and defers to John all the time. Dempster just wants to cook. Used to be he cooked up in Munsten. I don't know the details, but he's here now and whatever happened back in Munsten...well, it doesn't matter out here."
Brent just smiled. "Tell him he's safe. I really don't care. Obviously you two..." Brent indicated Comlin and Gendred with his beer mug. "...don't care, so why should I?" Brent snagged another piece of the meat and chewed it. "He's brilliant. This food is remarkable. Bursting with flavour."
Comlin and Gendred shared a smile. "Dempster had a good source for his herbs and spices."
"Had?"
"Yes, well. An inside story -- or joke if you will." Comlin smirked.
"Uh-huh. Okay. Enough. Business."
Comlin grabbed some cheese from the platter and sat back and gestured for Brent to continue.
"I'm here for Bill's chest. But I want to hear what happened that night. I read Gendred's report. What's missing from it?"
Gendred choked on his beer and James pounded his back. "Drink your beer! Don't breathe it!"
John, the innkeeper, came over and hovered until Gendred recovered, red-faced. Comlin noticed him and beckoned him over. John leaned in and whispered in Comlin's ear but Brent heard what he said: "A letter was delivered by one of the barge captains, Steve. Says it's for you." Comlin seemed startled and took a note with a broken wax seal into his hands.
The innkeeper bobbed his head. "Reeve Comlin, the seal was broken when Dempster took it. So he swears. He's a good man, honest he is. I believe him."
Comlin looked at the note then tucked it unread into his tunic. He looked up to the innkeeper. "I'll talk to Dempster later. Tell him to relax." The innkeeper retreated to the back of the bar and Comlin turned back to Brent.
"The report?" Brent reminded him.
"Nothing missing from the report, General," said Comlin. "The man broke into Bill's house. Bill caught him and had his throat slit from ear to ear. A patrol happened to come across the man leaving the house and chased him. He climbed the wall and was gone into the night. I tracked him and killed him."
Brent felt that the Reeve was holding something back. "Anything else?"
"No, not really."
"The report mentioned a young man being held hostage?"
Comlin gave Gendred a look before answering. "Yes, that's true. Not important though."
"I'll be the judge. What happened?"
Comlin scowled before answering. "A young man who used to hang out around these parts. Gathered herbs and traded them in market. The assassin stumbled across him that night, probably drawn by the fire. Used him as a shield."
Brent waited for him to say more and when he didn't he leaned forward. "Yes, and then what? Did the young man die? Reeve, I suspect you are much more used to giving detailed reports than this. You seem overly hesitant to be forthcoming on this matter. You are starting to piss me off. Bill Red...Burstone...was a friend of mine. This is more than duty for me. This is personal."
Comlin looked startled. "He was a friend of yours?" Comlin glanced at the insignia on Brent and James' uniforms. He looked thoughtful for a moment. "You served together?"
"You might say that," replied Brent.
"Bill had an interesting past. Not one he shared with anyone around here."
"He also had a chest full of coin."
"Yes, that he did."
"And the scars of burns all over his body," said Brent.
"That he did, too," replied Comlin, so quietly Brent strained to hear him. "He was constantly in pain. Drank here every day. Drank till the pain went away. People thought him the town drunk."
"But you didn't, did you?" asked Brent.
"No," he replied and he looked to Gendred for a moment. "No, he was an honourable man, but with a past that haunted him." Comlin looked at Brent's uniform. "He has a uniform that looks remarkably li
ke the one you are wearing. General, is it?"
Brent nodded. "Yes, General. Did I tell you my brother is the Knight General of the Realm, Reeve? His uniform is similar to mine except right here..." Brent pointed to his shoulders where his ailettes stood proudly showing his rank. "Right here you will find a five pointed star with rays between the points. Ever see that?"
Comlin nodded. "Might have. Let's finish these beers and head over to Bill's house. There's something you are going to want to see."
Brent, James, Theo Gendred and Steve Comlin climbed the stairs up to the second floor of Bill Redgrave's house. Gendred had carried a key to the house and explained that the house was contested in town. Too many people wanted to move in.
"I won't let them," explained Comlin. "It's too soon and I expected to see someone from the capital show up."
"Why?" asked James.
"You'll see," said Comlin and he opened the door to what Brent could see was a study of some kind. Comlin held the door for him and he pushed past him into the room.
The floor and walls were stained with old blood, brown and flaking. The desk was huge and filled most of the space. All around were bookcases filled with books and scrolls. Military memorabilia filled niches and special places. Brent turned and saw the suit of gleaming field plate armour on an armour stand in the corner. Also hanging from the tree was a hand-and-a-half sword in its sheath.
It was the sword and armour of Knight General Bill Redgrave. On the shoulder ailettes were the distinctive gold stars of the Realm. They looked similar to the symbol of the Church of the New Order but were the insignia for the rank of Knight General. Brent looked to Comlin.
"May I present the armour of Knight General Bill Redgrave, traitor to the Realm," Comlin whispered. He looked from Brent to James and, seeing the two of them standing silently, he knew he had guessed the truth correctly.
"Bill Redgrave!" sputtered Gendred. "Bill Burstone was Bill Redgrave! Here in my town all those years!"
"Calm yourself, captain," ordered Brent and placed a firm hand on his shoulder to emphasise the order. "At once, and lower your voice."
Leaf and Branch (New Druids Series Vol 1 & 2) Page 64
