Part Six: The Temple's Raptor
Knocking crowns off sticks
Spring was over and the real heat of summer had come in when Stalvan came to me in the training grounds. We had been training with the small but vigilant militia under Lord Aspadistris' command, and he came to us with a small retinue of guards.
He clasped hands with Lord Aspadistris and talked with him awhile, then came to me alone as I laved myself at the bathing trough, my hair plastered to my scalp with sweat.
"Hawk, my good captain, how goes it?" he asked, smiling.
I nodded to him, still catching my breath. We had put the Aspadistris men through a gruelling regimen of pike and shield formations designed to hold off a larger host with a small elite squad. The latest time, we Talons had been the attackers and there had been a very strenuous shoulder charge of shields.
I ran short of breath much faster than I remembered. This was troubling - it suggested that I'd taken some permanent harm when Drachlortan stabbed me.
Stalvan cast around while I finished bathing my head and back. I stood before him, waving my shirt against my chest to cool off.
"It's getting very warm out," he said. He carried a shade over his head and even so had to fan his face. Kindly creases formed around his eyes and a few beads of sweat stood out on his pate. "In summer, several things happen. The cattle will calf, the sheeps will lamb, and the Temple checks its coffers for the tithings."
I looked up. The last bit was not normally present in the childhood rhymes I'd heard. Stalvan walked with me to the shade of a lean-to and we sat, drinking cold water by the courtyard.
He gave me a roll of parchment, signed and elaborated. I read it slowly, stumbling over a few words, and then turned to him.
"You're going to Flex," he said. "To investigate the counsel of lords there. We believe that they have been shorting us on their tithes. Hoarding the gains of their mine at Forg to their own gains."
"Yeah?" I asked. My own trial for corruption was still fresh in my mind, and though the charges had been dropped, I still cringed a little whenever the topic of dereliction of duty came up. "Who do we suspect, exactly?"
He pointed to several of the names on the roll. "There are four lords who have contributed personnel to the city's standing army, and they take shares in the city's financing to an equal ratio," he said. "Casredan, Mellichar, Vost, and Dantor. In order of descending power."
He opened up another book, with numbers and charts.
"Casredan and Mellichar are the two houses that have contributed equal shares of financing to public funds - thirty percent each. Then Vost comes in with twenty-five percent, and finally Dantor with fifteen. The original agreement was that the Temple would repay them in bonds, which the Temple would buy back at five percent per annum. But given the purview of the steel mines at Forg, the Temple also gave them an option to sell iron and steel at a guaranteed price on the market."
Stalvan glanced at me. "How much of this do you follow?" he asked.
"Nothing," I said, honestly. "I'm no mathematician. What do I need to do?"
He sighed and rubbed his head ruefully.
"I don't blame you," he said. "I can hardly follow it myself. Here - I'm sending you out with one of my accountants. They need to check the files and records. There's a right messy tangle of bonds, options, and other sophisticated financial arrangements that the lord of Flex have put together, and I'm fairly sure they're not playing straight with the money."
He clapped his hands, and a plump priest came forward. His wavy hair framed a pale face that had seen a few meals too many and not enough fresh air. I glanced back at rotund Stalvan - perhaps this was his protege.
"This here is Torrem. He's our accountant, very good with numbers. He'll need to see records and files from the Flex lords. He may need to go to Forg too and take stock of the production output there. Your mission will be to accompany him and ensure his safety," Stalvan said.
"Pleased to meet you," Torrem said. His voice was surprisingly deep, coming from a boyish face. His eyes seemed a little abstracted, though. The didn't line up quite right when he looked at you.
I took his hand and shook it.
"Likewise," I said. "How many of my men shall I take?"
Stalvan looked down for a moment, then back up at me.
"All of them," he said. "We have reason to believe the lords of Flex have put away a very large sum of money. So large that treason charges may be forthcoming. If Torrem finds what we think he'll find, then he's going to need all the help he can get."
Stalvan's gaze wheeled around the courtyard a bit, then he turned back to me.
"Tell me, didn't you come from around there?" he asked.
I thought a moment before responding.
"I don't care to think on it, but yes - I did," I said.
He nodded. "Yes, I recall. I heard you met the old lord there once. At a tournament?"
I sighed and sat back. Very quickly, I summed up the two competitions I'd entered - the contest of spears and then the horseback joust. I mentioned in passing that they had taken the medal for the second one away from me.
Stalvan nodded. "That was a while ago," he said. "Since then, the world has changed. Belkrestar is dead. And so is his son Perringen - and I've heard you are to thank for that."
He massaged his head, sweating freely now in the heat.
"Well, the world turns and the world changes. Look at you now: the Temple's raptor. Our secret weapon. The day may well come when you'll find yourself looking down the blade of justice at the nobles who snubbed you so many years ago."
He rose.
"I'll be back in touch. Your company should prepare to leave within the next two weeks. We will count this against your penance," he said. "Make no mistake, it's likely to be dangerous going. But I think it beats holystoning the courtyard, don't you?"
* ~ * ~ *
I told my men the news that evening in the mess hall. This brought out a great cheer at the prospect of going out of Hawkbluff. Lattoverdius and Drasten, our two newest recruits, had been here most of their lives and my lads were happy to take them there.
I cautioned them to keep all familiarity to a minimum.
"Remember that Cob is dead," I said. "As are the Sons of Forg. We are the Talons now, and I am Hawk. Keep that in mind. This is a mission to root out corruption in the Temple, and we are not going to sightsee or to visit old friends."
"...if we even have any," interjected Prasti.
"...which I have been told is debatable," Lotal finished for him.
That brought a laugh, and we went to dinner with many smiles.
* ~ * ~ *
Allie didn't take it so well though.
"You're going to Flex?" she said, turning a lock of her hair in her hand. "When will you be back?"
I rolled over and propped myself up on an elbow.
"I don't know," I said. "I could hazard a guess if it'll make you feel better, but I'd have to ask Stalvan."
"What are you doing there?"
I told her about Torrem, going to Flex to check records.
"It's out of my hands. We'll be there as long as he is there."
She was silent for a while. Then, she looked at me.
"Well, when you find out from Stalvan, let me know." Then she turned away.
I nudged her.
"You're not mad, are you?"
She sighed.
"I keep reminding myself it's your work. So it's your work. So go, do what you have to do. Just don't forget you've got a wife and a baby on the way back home, and they both want to see you back in one piece," she said.
* ~ * ~ *
Stalvan gave me the summons a week after the meeting at Aspadistris' courtyard. I went to him.
"All right, you're leaving tomorrow," he said. "If you need horses, go talk to our requisitions office - they'll give you what you need. Take your weapons. Make sure Torrem gets there all right, and settle in at the noble's district temple. Do you know your way?"
I thought back, remembering. There was the temple where I'd hidden Sootri, when we were on the run as homeless refugee children. The memory gave me a momentary twinge. We'd been hungry and homeless then, but the thought of her welfare had sustained me. Even now, despite my home and my wife and Temple service, I found myself looking back at her trust and love with a sharp feeling of loss.
My men were quick to assemble, and Torrem came to our training grounds. We were mounted and off on the road to Flex by sunrise.
The ride was leisurely, and we passed caravans and traders along the way. We had heard news of the war effort - that Taric had penned Malarchus at his two towns and that Lothgren was safe for now. But they seemed very far away as we traversed the heartlands in our convoy.
Torrem sat in a covered wagon at the back, secured there with his papers. He had a great number of documents and records to compare, and they were just as valuable as he was. If anything should happen to him, I was to make sure his documents made it back intact for Stalvan to read.
Torrem was a personable, talkative person. Unlike Stalvan, the younger man did seem to have a good stomach for travel. We saw him carry some of his chests onto the wagon, and his size bespoke a decent amount of strength too.
We made good progress to Flex, though our swords were never far from our hands. Torrem noted this and called me on it in a conversation.
"When I travelled up to Flex last time, we were two men with six priests," I said. "There were bandits in the snows, and they did not hesitate to attack a Temple convoy."
I spat. "The swine," I added. "We hung a few of them from the trees by their arms. That seemed to stop them."
Torrem looked about. There were twelve of us, all on horseback, escorting his wagon and a small coach of other Temple personnel on unrelated business.
"Well, this time I've got a dozen men," he said. "I shouldn't think they'd chance anything with you lot around." He shifted a little in his seat and then leaned against the windowsill as I trotted alongside him. "Besides, the winter was harsh, and defectors were not only outlaws - they were starving. Now it's summer and they can probably find a good amount of work if they want."
He looked around. "Also, it's possible the lords have more steel in their coffers to pay them with," he said. "Which is why we're headed to Flex to make sure the flow of taxes is going smoothly. All it takes is for one lord to be corrupt, and then you've got militia going foodless for a season. Time to put a stop to this."
* ~ * ~ *
We stayed in a camp on our own, away from inns and any other tavern where our convoy might be noticed. We didn't want to give the lords in Flex any warning of our arrival.
On the first night, we got to a flat hilltop and made camp there. The evenings were still cool, and we huddled in blankets for sleep. We set up a watch rotation, and drank warmed wine around the fire. All of us slept with our swords - specially sharpened only on one side, like my own - by our sides.
The next morning, it was raining, and we covered up. The road grew soft, but did not churn into mud yet. A few straggling merchants' mules came up alongside us and fell in with us for a while, but we parted ways at a fork in the road and sheltered beneath some trees when the rain came down really hard.
Prasti got a fire going and we smoked some pheasants we shot in the woods. Torrem had a recipe where he bound them in leaves, feathers and all, and put them over a low fire. The stench of burning feathers was truly revolting, but when the birds were done, their skin and charred feathers peeled right off smoothly, revealing very tender meat underneath.
"This is the life, eh?" Lotal said. "See, when we chose to follow you, we weren't wrong, were we Hawk?"
I studied my pheasant's thigh in my hands, smiling despite myself.
"Nope, you weren't wrong," I said. "But you were still damn fools to come with me."
Lotal looked setwards. "Somewhere out there is Forg. The wall. Old Carrustin's forge." He looked down. "It's weird to think they're still there."
I gulped the flesh off the bone and then threw it into the bushes.
"Don't get your hopes up," I said. "Forg's been under the rule of Lord Nanje for nearly two years now since we left. I seriously doubt there's anything left going home to."
* ~ * ~ *
We pulled into Flex after a few more days, and made our way under cover of night to the noble district temple.
We were not recognized, not least because I now kept my hair short and my beard tidy. The rooms they showed us were tidy but small, and I had to bunk in a two-bed room with Lotal, Prasti, and Lellik-jir.
Lellik-jir's snoring kept us up and Prasti was on pillow detail to jolt the oaf's pillow whenever it got too bad. Eventually we shook him awake and made him lie on his belly. The snoring stopped after that, but Prasti still had to deal with Lellik-jir's bulk turfing him out of bed every so often.
In the end, we turned up to breakfast hollow-eyed and yawning. The other men had slept a little better and we met up with Torrem, who was in fine fettle and wide awake.
* ~ * ~ *
We set off in the morning to the Flex town hall. We requested, and got, the records of the taxes for the past few years, which Torrem placed into his carriage immediately. Then we turned around and went to the house of Lord Casredan.
I showed the guards the seal from Father Stalvan at Hawkbluff, and we brought Torrem forward. There was some hurried consultation, but we made it very clear that our business was with Lord Casredan himself and that any delay would feature poorly in any future equity case in court.
Casredan came to us.
He was an expansive, well-dressed man with a sword at his side. I instantly saw it was not ceremonial, and that he was a man of strong arm as well as a polished face. Casredan apologized for the delay at the door and listened politely while Torrem spoke to him. When the priest had finished, Casredan held his gaze for a heartbeat, and then broke out into smiles.
"Certainly, certainly," he said. "You are welcome to examine my records. I certainly have nothing to hide. However, I will say there have been troubling... discrepancies among the other records. I have worked to reconcile the public records with what the others have presented, but the accounting is a mess."
He led us into a library, and Torrem was given plenty of paper and pens.
"You may copy whatever you wish," Casredan said. "These records are yours for perusal."
Torrem looked at us. "That will take days," he said.
Casredan held his hands out in a gesture of helpless concern. "Perhaps, but you will understand that I cannot allow my private financial records to leave this room," he said. "You are welcome to make copies, as I have said."
Torrem looked at me, and I sensed a wry amusement in his gaze. I gave him a slight nod.
"I'm sorry, Lord Casredan," he said. "I have no time to make copies. I aim to take your records with me and study them as part of the evidence in our Temple investigation. If you will not let me take them, I shall return with a warrant for your deposition and the seizure of your records. It would be a pity to have to do this, especially if you have nothing to hide."
Casredan's face remained impassive a moment longer, as his trained eye took us all in - and then he gave a rueful smile.
"But of course," he said. "You may take my records. For reasons you can imagine, I would be indebted if you could return them at your earliest possible convenience."
We left the house and went to the Temple, dropping everything off at Torrem's locked quarters there. It took us a while, moving the chests of documents one by one up the stairs, and by the time we were done, we were ready for lunch.
Much to our surprise, Torrem shooed us back to our horses.
"We must go to Mellichar next," he said. "Casredan's men will probably be warning Mellichar even now. Our only hope is to get their records now, before they can move them."
We went to a different place in the nobles' district. At first we couldn't find it, because there was a cart of men moving furniture and the like out front.
Then we realized the movers were actually servicing the Mellichar household.
"Hold on there," I said, clapping my hand on one the foreman's shoulder. "Let us have a look at that."
One of the men looked at my beardless chin and eyed me up and down. He spat.
"Piss off, boy," he said, and reached up to brush my hand off.
I grabbed his wrist with one hand and his shoulder with the other and had him doubled over in pain, his arm twisted behind his back. Lotal, Lellik-jir, and the others all had their swords out and up in an eyeblink. We definitely had their attention now.
"I'm only going to say this once," I said. "We're going to look through your cart. Tell your men to back off and give our priest the keys."
He gasped out an order. Torrem came up with a Templar writ, striding to the cart and opening chests.
"Papers, yes," he said. "They were in the middle of moving them."
He turned around. "Were there any others?"
The foreman bit his lip. Torrem gave me a nod, and I pressed the man's wrist even tighter. He suppressed a cry of agony and staggered.
"There was another cart," he said. "Headed up to the summer retreat."
I pulled his head back by the hair and Lotal stood by with his sword.
"Where is it?" I asked. "Like you couldn't see that question coming, you swine."
"Top of Jutton Hill," he said. I knew the place - it was a mile out of the city.
I turned to Torrem. "Do the papers match what you need?" I asked.
He pored through a few and then shook his head. "Can't say for sure. We'll impound them anyway."
We split the company into two groups. Kash, Jaydo, and Gram would seize the Mellichar cart back to the Temple. The rest of us would continue on with Torrem to the Jutton Hill property, hopefully outpacing the documents there.
I handed over the Temple warrant, and Lotal and Prasti sped up ahead to intercept the documents cart. Meanwhile, Torrem's carriage set its own quick pace towards the hill, with me and the rest of the men in attendance.
Torrem mused on this development.
"This certainly does not look good for Mellichar," he said. "Casredan at least had the presence of mind to just produce the documents we requested. For Mellichar to hide the documents - that just reeks of guilt."
"How did he know?" I asked.
Torrem smiled. "Y'know, I'd be half tempted to say that Casredan told him. Even though it's clear the two houses have no affection for each other, Casredan knew his documents were seized. He has nowhere to hide anything - that's a given. But what he can do is to make his rival look bad. And what better way than to make his rival panic and try to hide his papers?"
I marvelled at this.
"Politics is all about this sort of doublethink," Torrem said. "Stalvan has had to put up with plenty of it himself."
The hill came into sight and the carriage jolted along as the horse set a fast pace. We got to the summer retreat with Lotal and Prasti barring the way and stopping the cart from entering. They were outnumbered by Mellichar's guards, but they were on horseback, and they had the sense to show Temple seal. Nobody wanted to be the first to strike a blow against horsemen serving the Temple. Fortunately, this standoff had held until we got there.
Torrem got out of the carriage, and he spoke to the guard captain, who plainly didn't like what he heard. But, powerless to refuse, he gave over the key to the cart's chests and Torrem set about opening them.
That was when one of the guards struck. He had been standing off to one side, but he gave the brake level a kick. The cart, resting on a slight incline, bucked backwards and would have run Torrem over had Lellik-jir not been on hand to grab it. Prasti joined him in holding it back as I grabbed Torrem out of the way.
Lotal was up and after the guard in a flash, and he feinted for the guard's chest once before flicking his blade around and up. There was a distinct crack as the blunt edge of his blade smote the man's skull.
Lotal looked around, his bloodied blade in his hand, and the unconscious guard in the dust.
"Are we getting started?!" he shouted, his face locked in a terrible sneer. "Any more of you nonces fancy baiting the Temple?"
The only answer was silence, as Torrem turned the cart around and took the reins of the draft horse.
I waited till he was safely back on the road with my men, before nudging my horse around. I pointed at the guard captain with my sword.
"Let this be a reminder that the Temple looks after its own," I said.
And then I rode off.
_