Brandt bristled at being commanded by a boy, but he held his tongue and followed.
That afternoon was one of the most torturous of Brandt’s life. He had been on long marches before, and the wound in his chest was certainly not his first injury. But between having to follow the boy’s instructions, the never-ending agony of the still-healing wound, and the ridiculous route they took to their destination, Brandt was surprised he hadn’t either passed out from pain or attacked an innocent bystander.
They had walked, then doubled back on themselves. They circled around blocks and stopped at shops for no discernible reason. Brandt caught Niles trying to detect pursuit, but the whole routine felt amateur. Eventually they reached a section of town where Brandt felt right at home, the part of town he would’ve grown up in had he been born in Landow. This was where the wage earners lived. Simple, small houses clustered closely together.
No wonder Kye had never figured out where the named family lived. It never would’ve occurred to him to search somewhere like here.
The house Niles led him to was nondescript, with no distinguishing features that Brandt could observe. All in all, it was exactly the sort of house he expected would appeal to a man who did not want to be noticed.
Niles opened the front door and gestured for Brandt to enter. They weren’t more than a few steps in when they encountered a woman coming to investigate the visitors. At one point she might have been pretty, but it looked like the years hadn’t been kind to her. Brandt figured she wasn’t much more than ten years his senior, but she seemed far older.
Brandt offered a small bow. Niles jumped in before the woman could ask a question. He seemed to enjoy speaking first. “Mother, this is Sergeant Brandt of the wolfblades. He was with Father the night he was murdered.”
Niles’ mother didn’t react.
Whatever emotion the woman might have possessed was buried deep.
She didn’t even reply. She gave the two of them a small bow, then turned and retreated into the shadows. For a moment, Brandt wondered if he had imagined the whole encounter.
Brandt turned to Niles. “She has taken the death of your father hard. Does she have friends or family to help her?”
Niles shook his head. “She was like that before Father died. He was not an easy man to live with.”
Brandt stared at the space where the woman had stood. The more time he spent around Niles, the better he understood this family. It had all focused on Zane, an overbearing master. What shape would the family take now that Zane was dead? Would Niles make it something more than it had been, or would he let the pull of the past set his course?
Brandt admitted that he was curious, and vowed to do what he might to help the two surviving Arrowoods, little as that might be.
The two of them went deeper into the house into a small study. Papers were scattered all over, and a few books were open to various pages. Brandt took an initial survey of the room, seeing that most of the books had to deal with the lineages of wealthy families in the area.
So Zane had believed much the same as the commander of the city watch. Any warrior with the skill that the bandit possessed had to come from a well-off family. That level of skill didn’t develop naturally, but through years of dedicated training. And beyond that, Brandt suspected that the bandit also had a military background. There was a difference between a fighter who had simply trained for battle and a fighter who had experienced the real thing. The bandit fought like one of the latter.
“Your father suspected a wealthy family.”
Niles nodded. “He didn’t discuss much of the investigation with me. But I have come to believe that was his suspicion. He had been searching through the houses to find candidates. Unfortunately, he found too many leads. Landow is a wealthy enough city that even with his criteria there were too many suspects to be useful.”
Brandt released a small sigh of disappointment. He supposed it would’ve been too easy to figure the mystery out immediately. But surely Zane had discovered something that would lead Brandt to his next steps.
“Do you know what your father was investigating the day he was murdered?”
Niles nodded. “I do, actually. We spoke that night, not long before he left. When he didn’t find a useful lead among the wealthy, he focused on the criminal element within town. My father was searching for a diamond, and he believed that talking to Landow’s local smugglers might point him in the right direction.”
“And he found something?”
Niles shrugged. “The day he was murdered he found someone who he thought could provide a lead, but he never gave me the name.”
Brandt swore softly. “Your father was a paranoid man.”
“Apparently not enough, though.” Niles shrugged. “But you are right. My father was secretive, and very difficult to work with. He was happiest when he was out on his own, in the middle of the night.”
Brandt looked around the room again. He didn’t think his answers were in the books or papers. “Can you think of anything that might help me figure out who killed the wolfblades?”
Niles looked thoughtful. “I don’t, unfortunately. I would say that we could interview whatever criminal my father spoke to, but I suspect that person is dead, leaving us without a lead.”
Brandt frowned. “Why do you say that?”
“Because when my father returned that day, before night fell and he left again, he was more relaxed than usual. The only time he acted like that was after he had taken out his aggression on someone.”
Brandt heard the weight of the confession in Niles’ voice. The truth was unspoken, but obvious now that Brandt knew to look for it. Niles had been the victim of that aggression more often than not.
Niles
