“On the other hand, that fellow was clearly a sorcerer of no small skill,” Geran added. “I think you ought to be glad that you didn’t have your bow closer to hand. If you’d shot at him, he might have taken offense.”
“I don’t care who or what he is, I won’t stand by and let him spite the harmach’s laws,” Kara retorted. She returned her bow to its case, still looking after the vanished sorcerer. Her brilliant eyes glowed with anger, and she turned away to collect herself. After a moment she shook herself and looked at Geran. “We should at least take the bodies back to Hulburg for a decent burial. I don’t like the idea of leaving the woman out here for Aesperus, and I intend to ask Darsi Veruna how one of her men ended up dead at the scene of Jarad’s murder. She still hasn’t given me a good answer about the business at Erstenwold’s, anyway.”
“We might as well get started then, since the afternoon is getting on,” Geran answered. They’d have to wrap the bodies well to keep the horses calm, double up on one of the mounts, and they wouldn’t make very good speed returning to town. “I’d just as soon not be out on the moors after dark.”
“What’s our next move, then?” Hamil asked Geran.
“I’m not sure,” he admitted. “But I think I’ll follow Mirya’s advice and try to figure out why Veruna’s mercenaries are suddenly interested in barrows.”
EIGHT
14 Ches, the Year of the Ageless One
Sometime in the cold hours before dawn, snow began to fall around Hulburg. When Geran awoke and looked out his window, the higher hilltops were covered with a dusting of white, and fat, wet flakes were sticking along the castle’s turrets and rooftops. He performed his morning exercises in a fitful flurry that stopped and started several times as he practiced his forms. Spring snow was not at all unusual for the northern shores of the Moonsea, but it rarely lasted long.
The cold air spurred him fully awake and chased the last dregs of sleepiness from his mind. It had been a long ride back to Hulburg from the barrow the previous evening and a longer night of explanations, as Kara insisted on setting down their recollections of the discovery inside the mound before allowing Geran and Hamil to retire for the evening. She’d also been careful to set down their descriptions of the sinister sorcerer they’d encountered too. Geran had no idea if anything would come of either account. He sincerely doubted that anyone at House Veruna would admit that the dead man was in the barrow on company business, and as for the sorcerer, he doubted whether the Shieldsworn could arrest and hold such a creature against his will. It seemed unlikely that he had anything to do with Jarad’s murder or the deaths of the Veruna armsman and the townswoman, simply because Geran couldn’t imagine why the fellow would return to the scene or ask them whether they’d found a book. He finally gave up with a shrug. Strange folk roamed the Highfells at times; either they’d see him again, or they wouldn’t, and there was little point looking for him.
Geran bathed quickly, dressed himself, and headed down to find himself some breakfast in the family great room, turning events over in his mind. By the time he’d finished his breakfast-and games of dragon’s-teeth with the younger Hulmasters-Geran had decided on his next course of action. He clapped Hamil on the shoulder and said, “I think I’d like to seek gainful employment for the day. If you’re done with allowing Kirr to instruct you in grand strategy, why don’t you come with me?”
“Gainful employment?” Hamil raised an eyebrow. “Very well, then.”
“But I was winning, Geran!” Kirr groaned.
“Nonsense!” Hamil replied. “You were but one tile away from falling into my insidious trap. You’ll see when we resume this contest.”
The halfling bowed to his diminutive opponent and followed Geran down through a servant’s stair into the depths of the castle kitchens. In a few moments the two travelers came to the laundry room, where a couple of servant girls worked at a big tub of warm water, washing the castle’s linens.
“Oh, so it’s the wash, then,” the halfling said glumly. “All right, I suppose I have to earn my room and board somehow.”
“Some honest work would do you good,” Geran answered him. He spoke briefly to the young women working at the tubs, and they directed him to a large storeroom nearby. Battered old trunks packed with old clothing filled the room. Geran removed his sword belt and began to rummage through the trunks. The swordmage found a threadbare old tunic and a nondescript cloak of plain gray and held them up for a look.
“Ah, this should do,” he said.
“For mucking out the stables?” asked the halfling.
“Not a bad idea, but that’s not what I had in mind. I was thinking that we might look for some work as teamsters, and House Veruna might be a good place to look. I’d rather not be recognized. Here, try these.”
Geran and Hamil soon enough patched together mismatched working garb to reasonably disguise themselves as common laborers. They stopped by the Shieldsworn armory, and Geran replaced his elven blade with a plain short sword of the sort that a poor driver might carry for defense against bandits; Hamil found a well-worn crossbow. Then they visited the stables and harnessed a simple buckboard wagon and a pair of mules and drove down from Griffonwatch into town, joining the stream of cart traffic and wagons rumbling along the Vale Road in the wet snow.
They stayed east of the river down to the Lower Bridge, crossed over to Bay Street, and drove along the wharves past the tradeyards of various merchant costers-the Double Moon, House Sokol, House Marstel. Then they came to the Veruna compound and drove through its gates into the bustling yards beyond. Like most other trading companies in Hulburg, Veruna owned several storehouses that were enclosed together by a sturdy wall. Barracks, offices, stables, a smithy, and the stone-and-timber houses of Veruna officials clustered together within the Veruna holding, a town within the town.
It seems ordinary enough, Hamil said silently. This could be the Red Sail yard in Tantras. What are we looking for?
The mercenaries, Geran answered. He looked around, sizing up the place. A handful of armsmen in the green-and-white tabards of the House watched over the business in the yard; they seemed bored and disinterested. I expect that most of the Veruna operations here are perfectly legitimate, so I’m not worried about what’s in the storehouses or where it’s going. I’m more interested in the sellswords. Mark them well-I want to find this man Urdinger, and I want to see if any of them are riding off into the Highfells to go poke around in barrows when they don’t think anyone is watching.
The halfling nodded. “That might take days,” he warned. And it’ll look a little suspicious if we just sit here all day eavesdropping on the guards.
“I know,” Geran replied. He spied the big Veruna armsman Bann, the fellow he’d confronted in Mirya Erstenwold’s store, and he carefully shifted to lower his hood over his face and keep his eyes away from the man. The mercenary led half a dozen more Veruna men past the wagon without giving Geran so much as a second glance and headed out into Bay Street intent on his own business.
You recognize those men? Hamil asked.
I saw one of them at Mirya’s. Come on, we might as well ask about work. It’ll give us a good chance to spy out the place, and we should fit right in.
Fortunately, a fair number of the wagon drivers in the town were halflings; it was a little unusual for a human and halfling to work together, but not strange enough to be conspicuous, or so Geran hoped. Besides, he’d observed in the last few days that most of the wagons heading out of town carried at least two men. It always helped to have an extra hand along to carry a crossbow and keep an eye out for trouble.
He swung himself down from the wagon and headed toward the nearest Veruna clerk he saw. The fellow was a tall, stoop-shouldered man with thinning hair and a heavy green cloak to ward off the wet snow.
“Well met,” Geran said gruffly. “I’ve got a wagon and team for hire. Got any work for me?”
“Just a moment.” The Veruna clerk carried a small ledger and consulted it with a frown of annoyance. “I’ll need a load of stores taken up to a camp in the foothills soon. It pays five silvers, and you’ll get fodder and stabling for your team and a hot meal for yourself.”
“Good enough. Where am I going?”
“You’ll be with some other wagons. The other drivers know the way. Stay with them, and you’ll be fine.” The
