there is no appearance of favoritism, I’ll delegate the harmach’s decision to High Magistrate Nimstar. But this is not a matter for the Merchant Council, Sergen.”
“House Veruna won’t be pleased by that.” Sergen tapped his finger on his chin, affecting a moment of serious thought. “What about this? Imprison Geran here in Griffonwatch and charge him under the harmach’s law as is right and proper, but appoint the Council Watch to guard him? As long as Darsi Veruna is reassured that Geran is indeed confined and that charges will be read against him, she may relent on her insistence that the council must hold him. I believe I can persuade her to accept that.”
The harmach stood in silence for a long moment, and then he nodded. “Very well. I’ll send someone to make arrangements with the council. But Sergen-regardless of whether Darsi Veruna agrees or not, Geran will be removed from Council Hall.”
“That might be-”
Grigor slashed his hand across his chest. “If Veruna wants to invite me to confiscate their property and re-let their leases to other merchant costers, then I’ll gladly do so.” The harmach turned and stomped away as best he could, striking his stick forcefully to the floor with each stride.
Sergen watched him retreat, mildly impressed. He wouldn’t have suspected that the old man had a glint of fire in him. Why, the harmach was positively reckless! It was not like Grigor to let anger get the better of him.
He gathered his guards to him with an absent motion of his hand and left the harmach’s hall to climb back into his coach. In a few moments the coach rolled back down the castle’s causeway and started through the streets as Sergen carefully thought through what needed to happen in the next few days. He decided he was committed to his decisions and spent the rest of the ride to Council Hall presenting himself with hypothetical misfortunes and determining his response to each.
The coach rocked to a stop, and his footman opened the door. Sergen climbed out and said, “Remain ready. I’ll be leaving again in a quarter-hour. And tell the watch captain to ask Captain Icehammer to join me in my chambers immediately.”
“Of course, Lord Keeper,” the man answered. But Sergen had already passed him by, bounding up the steps to Council Hall. He swept into the room that served as his office and found that his clerks had left him several letters and contracts to approve. None were particularly urgent, but he examined them simply to occupy himself while he waited for the mercenary captain.
He didn’t have to wait long. Before he’d finished looking over the third letter, Kendurkkel Ironthane knocked on the door and entered. The dwarf tromped in, took a seat in a chair by the hearth, and commenced to tap out the ashes from his pipe. “You sent for me, Lord Sergen?” he asked.
“I did,” Sergen answered. “I assume that you’ve heard rumors about the orc horde marching on Hulburg?”
The dwarf laughed harshly. “It’s no’ far from the minds o’ many folk this morning. No one talks ’bout anything else.”
“I’ve told the harmach that I’ve retained the services of the Icehammers. I want you to march with the Shieldsworn and help to defend Hulburg from the Bloody Skulls. I believe that contingency is already covered under our existing arrangements.”
“I expected so much,” Kendurkkel said. “However, I’ll be remindin’ you that a share o’ the plunder from the field o’ battle belongs to me company.”
“Of course. You should prepare to march immediately, Captain-the Shieldsworn hope to defend the watchtowers at the north end of the vale, and my dear sister Kara intends to move her forces there by tomorrow morning.”
“Am I answerin’ to her orders?”
Sergen thought about that for a moment. “Unless Kara’s orders are clearly inept or otherwise unacceptable, yes,” he said. “Do your best to do as she asks, and give her the benefit of your experience and counsel. I’m sending you to make sure that the Bloody Skulls are stopped before they reach Hulburg, and I want you to do what you think is needful to accomplish that goal.”
The dwarf nodded. “All right. If there’s nothing else you’re needin’, then, I’ve got a lot t’ do in the next few hours.”
“There’s one more thing,” Sergen said. “I’ll need about thirty of your men-most of them humans-for a special assignment here in Hulburg, a very sensitive assignment. I’ll need them to be waiting at the Dareth storehouse on East Street by noon on the tenth. It would be best if they arrived in small groups, scattered over the morning, and didn’t wear any identifying colors or insignia.”
The dwarf chewed on his pipestem and eyed Sergen thoughtfully. “Will me lads be livin’ through your special assignment?”
“Yes, in fact, it’s important that they do. But I’m afraid they will have to leave town immediately afterward. I plan to have a ship ready to leave at first light for that purpose.”
“All right. I’ll give ’em orders t’ make their way back to Thentia or Melvaunt after you’re done with them.” Kendurkkel leaned forward and took his pipe from his mouth, pointing the stem at Sergen. “Now, just so we see eye t’ eye, m’lord: Exceptional missions an’ arrangements o’ that sort demand an exceptional bonus. I need t’ know what you’ve got in mind for me lads.”
Sergen bowed his head in acquiescence and spread his hands. “Well, Master Kendurkkel, it seems that House Veruna is going to do something terrible three nights from now. Your men are going to make sure that everyone knows who was responsible.” After all, he added to himself, he wouldn’t want to become harmach while he was so deeply indebted to Darsi Veruna.
TWENTY-TWO
9 Tarsakh, the Year of the Ageless One
The Council Watch soldiers removed Geran from his cell during the dark hour before sunrise. At first he feared that he was to be driven out to some lonely spot in the Highfells and killed, but to his surprise the council men took him to Griffonwatch. They drove the prison wagon up the causeway and through the gatehouse, stopping by the Shieldsworn barracks. A moment later the heavy chains securing the wagon’s door rattled, and the two guards riding in the back with Geran rose and helped him to the door.
When he clambered out of the wagon’s dim interior, Geran found Hamil and Sergeant Kolton of the Shieldsworn waiting for him with five more council guards. “There you are, Geran,” Hamil said. “Are you hurt at all?”
“Nothing important, though I’ve got a broken tooth I hope to have mended. What’s going on here? Am I to be released?”
“Not yet,” the halfling answered. “The harmach struck a deal with the Merchant Council. I think that he’s agreed that you’ll face charges under Hulburg’s law. In exchange the council’s agreed to allow you to be held here in Griffonwatch until a trial can be arranged. But they’ll have a detachment of their own watch to stand guard, just to make sure that the harmach doesn’t release you.”
Geran grimaced. It was undoubtedly better to be held in Griffonwatch, simply because he wouldn’t have to fear being murdered in his cell or otherwise made to disappear. And he likely had little to fear from a trial under Hulburg’s laws. But the harmach must have staked his own honor on Geran’s good behavior, so he’d have to endure his incarceration a little longer. “When will my case be decided?”
Sergeant Kolton frowned. “That’s hard to say, Lord Geran. The Bloody Skulls’ve got everything in an uproar.”
“The Bloody Skulls? Did their messengers return?”
Kolton shook his head. “No, they all did. I suppose you ain’t heard”-the sergeant shot the Council Watch soldiers a hard look-“but there’s a bloody great orc horde on its way. Lady Kara’s taken almost all the Shieldsworn up to the northerly watchtowers, and three-quarters o’ the merchant company armsmen too. She left me in command o’ the garrison, can you believe that? Anyway, Lady Kara expects to meet the Bloody Skulls within a day, maybe two.”
Geran felt the weight of the chains on his wrists. As far as he knew he had no great talent for leading armies,
