enough to crush the average man.
'Ah the rumel investigator!' Jurro rumbled. 'What brings you here?'
'Sele of Jamur-'
'Urtica. It's apparently the Sele of Urtica now,' Brynd corrected, smiling to himself.
'Sele of Urtica,' Jeryd continued reluctantly. Then to Jurro: 'How come you're all the way out here? I thought you were rotting away in that room of yours back in Villjamur.'
Jurro set the books on the floor – a stack of leather-bound tomes that reached as high as Jeryd's shoulder. 'On the contrary, the kind commander there permitted me to stretch my legs at long last, so I have ventured to this city with them. I have since seen many things, though few of them what I hoped for. Alas, still no clue as to my origins. So I assume you're here for the coming war?'
'Not exactly. I'm actually here pursuing the case of a missing soldier. Still got a fondness for the books, I see.'
'I have been soaking up information for so long now it seems easier to read than to breathe. Though, this time the commander here has set me to work.'
Standing close by, Brynd cleared his throat. 'I sent some men to the libraries throughout the city – which here are small and scattered institutions – so Jurro might be provided with some bestiaries, or records that might enlighten us as to what the enemy might be. I have myself looked through several volumes of xenopathology, but there are few cladistical similarities with those infernal creatures.' He waved to the pile of books. 'He has been a great help already,' Brynd continued. 'Jurro, might I spend some time alone with the investigator?'
'Why of course. I have many pages here to digest.' Jurro reached down for the load of books and hunched his way out through the doorway.
Jeryd gave a sideways glance at the commander. 'Strange customer, that one.'
'It isn't easy being the only one of your kind.'
*
Jeryd was introduced to a few of the Night Guard, those superioroops, as he wanted to build a profile of them. Any one of these men might have been responsible for Haust's disappearance.
First there was Mikill, a slender man in his late twenties, with long brown hair. The commander explained he was a supreme swordsman, having joined the Dragoons when he was fifteen, and had become a sergeant by the time he was eighteen. Apparently he didn't have much of an appetite for drink, so was constantly mocked for that by the others; but he was a considerable ladies' man, apparently, much to the envy of the older men. Brug was a veteran in his mid-forties, heavily muscled and with a close-shaven head and numerous tattoos. Unlike his younger colleagues, he was a bit of a wine-lover with an appreciation for paintings. Jeryd learned that he had lost his wife twenty years ago and hadn't wed since. Jeryd took an instant liking to the next man, Smoke, a mature, expert horseman who spent more time looking after the animals than socializing. With tanned skin and short-cropped hair showing streaks of grey, he was a descendant of the tribes, and considered best of all with an axe. Quiet and reflective, he stared back at Jeryd gently, contemplating his questions, and answering carefully in a whispery tone. Very different was Syn, in his mid-thirties, who could well have been a psychopath judging by the look in his eye. Although usually quiet, the commander revealed that he was extremely violent and efficient in combat. In fact everyone was secretly wary of him, since Syn was thought to have been involved in a wholesale massacre of Empire-friendly tribesmen about fifteen years ago. As a result, no one seemed that close to him, and Jeryd made a particular note of this individual.
He met a couple of other men briefly, Bondi and Haal, but they soon had to go back to their training. Meanwhile, other soldiers in black jogged by, conversing in loud voices that followed them along the corridor. Jeryd couldn't help but feel a little disappointed at the sight – these men were legendary with their cultist enhancements – providing greater strength and superior skills – but they still seemed like very ordinary people.
*
Later, in the same obsidian room as before, Jeryd, Nanzi and Brynat in discussion as a massive fireplace generated a much-needed warmth. As they began to discuss the Haust case, Jeryd asked Nanzi to note down any minor details. After having talked to some of his men, Brynd confirmed that the private had disappeared during nighttime while on regular patrol. At that point, the albino reaffirmed that numerous other people in the city had similarly gone missing. Jeryd made a mental note to study all the reports back at the Inquisition headquarters.
At Jeryd's request to see Private Haust's quarters, the commander led them over to the dormitories. The rest of the regiment were on training exercises, and the place was empty: a long, narrow room that housed five soldiers, as well as Haust himself. Sparse and oppressively neat, Jeryd could tell from this one room that the life of a soldier would never have been right for him. Haust's bed had been left untouched, the sheets folded down immaculately. A few sheets of paper were rested tidily on the side table – a letter from his partner, another one from his brother, a hand-sketched portrait of an attractive young lady and, resting on it, a woman's bracelet.
'Everything's exactly as he left it, I believe,' the commander said.
Jeryd regarded Haust's meagre possessions. 'These from his lover at home?' he enquired.
'Yes, his wife, back in Villjamur. They'd been married quite a while for such a young couple, but Haust, like a few other soldiers, would go out and play with the local girls.'
'Not the most trustworthy of gentlemen then?' Nanzi sneered.
'I'd trust him covering my back with a sword, if that's what you mean.' Brynd glanced meaningfully at Jeryd then at her, and Jeryd weighed up the scenario in his mind. 'They can get up to whatever they want in the evenings, the men, so long as they're not participating in a military engagement.'
Jeryd nodded.
'But he sent most of his wages home to her, so that she lived well, in one of the upper-level apartments,' Brynd continued. 'Her letters kept him going – that's what keeps a lot of these men going, in fact.'
'Yourself included?'
A smile. 'I don't like to complicate matters too much.'
'Very wise,' Jeryd murmured. 'So he'd left his precious personal items here. I reckon we can rule out the notion that he's just run away.'
Commander Brynd Lathraea quickly followed Jeryd's logic, and nodded solemnly. 'Someone's taken a Night Guard soldier? That seems most unlikely. This unit contains the most efficient warriors in the Boreal Archipelago. You don't just take one of them against his will.'
Jeryd wasn't so sure about this military bravado right now. 'I think we can safely assume that if Haust has been abducted or murdered, our suspect is likely to be a little on the tough side himself.'
*
Jeryd and Nanzi accepted drinks in the officers' mess, while Brynas called away briefly. After he returned, the conversation turned the mysterious enemy with hard shells and claws.
'This is partially classified, of course,' Brynd said, 'although I will be shortly making some public announcements. Not even the Inquisition know the full details just yet.'
'Understood,' Jeryd said.
'Okun,' Brynd declared. 'That's what they've been called, based on the old language upon which Jamur itself was constructed. It comes from the word okunnr, meaning unknown or alien.'
'You mean you don't actually know what the hell they are,' Jeryd observed dryly.
'You might say that.' The commander's gaze settled on some deep distance. 'Tineag'l has suffered a genocide at the hands of these Okun. Mass culls were involved – whole towns and villages simply cleared out. Over a hundred thousand people have gone missing, and the rest were slaughtered. I was out there with a band of my soldiers on an investigative mission that turned into a rescue operation. It wasn't a pretty sight, finding the corpses, seeing the trails of blood all across the snow. People were just taken from the safety of their own homes.' Brynd shook his head. 'As for what did this -these new creatures? Well, I suspect they arrived by crossing the ice sheets – but where from originally, I'm afraid I cannot be more specific. One garuda scout reported getting sight of some sort of gateway up in the far north, but that claim needs re-examining. It sounds ridiculous, but they're like crustaceans, and stand taller than any normal man. From what we've witnessed, they're vicious fighters, totally ruthless, and they're massing on the southern shores of the gulf waiting to launch a raid over here. Although I hesitate to ever label an entire race as evil… I mean, we're just judging them from one perspective, seeing only the threatening aspects of an alien species armed and on a mission of conquest. They ought not to be defined simply by their appearance – although there are many in our world who would.'
