“And Arthur did encounter many chieftains of the humans who lived in this place, fighting some but talking to more. From them, he found that the Fey, terrible sorcerous beings that they were, dominated all the men of the west as slaves and as servants, and raided the Genians borders for slaves. He had encountered with some raiders of the Fey in Britain, and had no love for them, and offered to lead them in war to conquer all the lowlands and liberate them. Only a few agreed, and so Arthur set out to attack the Fey with scarcely five hundred men.”

Bran the Wise, The Conquest of Anwwn.

Tane Bayder, 10 September 1582 AAA. Trackford.

“This the house?” Tane asked, glancing at the decaying townhouse in the bog.

“Near as I can tell” Mene said.

It had taken a good while to track down Brenna Callene’s house. Corentin’s had been easy to find-white witches tended to be well known-but someone had already broken in and cleared the place of anything interesting. The same with Rhys’s house, although they’d gotten clean clothes and a set of prayer beads for him in his cell.

Brenna’s, though, had been a good deal harder. Mene had spent the better part of a week asking after her, pretending to be a friend concerned for her welfare. They’d gotten the family name out of Rhys too, convincing him that she wasn’t talking and that they needed to inform her family what had happened to her before they did anything rash.

Brenna’s extended family mostly seemed to be keeping their heads down, while Brenna herself had fled the city if the fact that everyone either had no idea where she was or were rather tight lipped was any indication.

“How do you reckon we should get in? Kicking down the door’s a bit obvious.” Tane said.

“Soldiers” Mene said, laughing.

“I do know how to pick locks. I’m just terrible at it.”

“And I’m not. There’s no one inside, and there’s a back entrance. Servants door.”

“People who had servants used to live here. Bloody hell.” Tane wondered aloud.

“Don’t know what they were thinking, building here” Mene added, skipping over a puddle as she turned into the side alley that led to the back door.

“They were thinking pounds and shillings” Tane said.

She ducked under the clotheslines that criss-crossed the alleyway, for once finding her height an annoyance rather than a benefit.

“Anyone else broken in yet?” Tane asked.

“Doors and windows are all good, at least when I scouted the place. Whoever was hitting the other houses must have missed this one or not gotten to it. Then again, they might just have been careful not to draw any attention.”

They reached the back of the building. The mossy stonework on the lower parts of it’s walls betrayed that it had once been a courtyard, before someone had built it into a second tenement, clinging to the rear of the first, made out of wood rather than brick.

Mene rapped her hand on one of the doors. “Servants entrance. There’s people in the back half of the building, three or four families. No one in the front. Must have been subdivided.”

She pulled out her lockpicks, and Tane stood between her and the road, shielding her from view.

A few clicks later and it was open. Tane followed Mene in.

The room was oppressively crowded and musty, with scarcely any light coming in. Tane squinted, though Mene moved through it with ease.

“You have any candles?” Tane asked as Mene locked the door behind them.

Mene nodded. Tane could barely see her silhouette in the gloom.

“Normally don’t do this sort of work with light. Third eye does just fine.”

She pulled out a candle from her bag and lit it with a flick of her striker, passed it to Tane, then lit another one for herself.

Tane glanced about the newly lit room. It was a kitchen, unwashed pots and pans scattered about. Dust was already beginning to accumulate.

“Nothing here.”

“Yeah. The best stuff’s always in the bedrooms and the study.” Mene said. She stepped out of the kitchen, moving cautiously and slowly.

Tane followed, wincing as a floorboard creaked. Even in an uninhabited house with a search warrant, making noise seemed wrong somehow.

They were out in the central corridor now. Tane saw that the front door had a table thrown across it, and a heavy bar bracing it.

“Bloody hell, she must have been in a panic.” Tane said.

“That’s what I would have done if I’d just gotten the other two members of my cell captured in a botched sharpshooter attack.” Mene said.

“Aye. Though If I were in charge it wouldn’t have let it get to that point. If they hadn’t taken that second shot, they probably could have gotten out before we were onto them.”

“Good thing you weren’t.” Mene said.

Tane laughed, even though her gut told her Mene was right.

We got lucky, that could have ended with Gryff maimed or killed for nothing if they were luckier or faster.

She checked the rooms as they entered, reflexively sweeping them. Larder, water closet, servant’s bedroom, main bedroom.

“That’ll be were anything useful is.” Mene said. It was a long shot, but any letters, written orders, even books and pamphlets they could find would be useful.

Mene took point, carefully setting down her candle.

Tane glanced about. The fireplace was choked with half-burnt paper, while her drawers had been thrown open.

Mene dropped down to check under the bed, while Tane checked the drawers. They’d been rummaged through, with only trinkets left behind. If you were going on the run, taking everything valuable or useful with you and burning anything incriminating was only logical.

She turned to the fire, setting her candle down next to it. Paper and ash, mixed together. She grabbed a fragment of paper and tried to read it.

Most of it was unintelligible, burned beyond recognition or random snatches of text, although the fact that even some of it survived suggested that it was a rush job.

She tried to make it out. “Go on” was the longest fragment of a sentence she could find.

Tried another piece of paper. No better luck.

“This what you’re looking for?” Mene asked.

Tane glanced back and saw Mene crouching, holding up a half burnt piece of paper.

“Looking for something?”

It must have been blown out of the fireplace by a draft.

She began to read, slowly and out loud.

“Avon Heveria won’t interfere. I have leverage over hi- this bit’s burnt out. Stack the kindling but don’t start the fire. Signed, The Old Man.”

“The bloody Old Man again.” Tane said. “Not her father, because Rhys mentioned him too. Some sort of code name.”

“Probably this lots leader.” Mene said.

“Cryptic bastard. Ordering them to try and raise tensions but don’t start a rebellion just yet?” Tane added.

That would fit with the attackers modus operandi.

“Could be. Don’t have much experience with this spying business.” Mene said, stepping into what was probably Brenna’s study.

You act like you do, though.

Tane stood up from the fireplace. “Anything else?”

Stolen novel; please report.

Mene shook her head. “Nothing under the bed. I’ll need to search the rest of the house to be sure.”

An entire bookshelf took up one corner.

Mene lifted a book. “The Complete Fireworker and Trenchmaster; being a guide to the arts of the siege engineer.” She read out.

“Oh, fucking wonderful, they were planning on graduating from sharpshooting to mining”

“Seems like it.”

“This too.” Mene passed her a sheath of papers.

Tane read the title of the pamphlet at the top.

“On why it is necessary to agitate for a general uprising against the Commonwealth.”

Mene handed her a second letter.

“The Oaths and Aims of the Coiled Serpent.”

“Mother above, she got sloppy covering her tracks.” Tane muttered.

“Yeah.”

“Bunch of bloody amateurs.”

Mene laughed. “Where do find professional rebels anyway? They got a guild? A company of masters?”

“Ah, fuck if I know. All I know is they wouldn’t call themselves the bloody coiled serpent.”

Tane pulled out her valise and stowed the evidence.

“My gut tells me to get out while we’re ahead” Mene said, carefully stepping past Tane to get out of the study.

“Thought you didn’t have much experience with spying.”

“Not with spying. Thieftaking though, and well, when I was younger…”

“Set a thief to catch a thief.” Tane said, quietly. She knew well enough how thieftaking worked.

“Didn’t have much choice. It was that or starve. Or the poorhouse, and I wasn’t going within a hundred yards of one of those hellholes. ” Mene said.

“Could’ve joined the army. No such thing as too many witches.”

“At ten? I don’t think so.”

Tane didn’t have any answer to that.

Mene sighed. “Never even found out why he ran. Traharn, I mean.”

“Mercenaries are like that.” Tane said. “You can’t contract loyalty out. Goes for love as well as war.”

“I suppose so.” Mene murmured. She stood up. “Best search the rest of the house.”

Tane nodded in agreement. “Aye, we’d best do that.”

*

There were nothing else useful as evidence elsewhere in the house, as it turned out. No more letters, no more books, no scrawled masterplan and convenient list of Coiled Serpent members. Considering how sloppy Brenna had been, it was unlikely she had anything more incriminating hidden with her. Everything had been burnt or found. Still, Tane made a note to herself to give the building a second search, this time with heavies and iron crows.

“Wonder where Brenna is now” Mene said, riding slowly besides Tane with a valise loaded with the evidence hanging from her shoulder.

“If she’s smart, on a fast ship to one of the Valadian states. Or in Kasilisk. That place is crawling with republicans. Anyhow, it’s easy to disappear or become someone else if you want to.”

“Oh, I know.” Mene said.

She glanced up at the sky. High dark clouds were coming in. Only sad looking patches of snow remained on the rooftops, but by the look of the clouds, more would be coming.

General Winter throwing in the last of the reserves before calling a retreat.

“I wish spring would come already” Mene muttered, rubbing her hands.

“Yeah.” Tane said. “Always hated winter out on the Valadian marches. Only a few weeks to go, though.”

She’d been raised out on those high plains, and had first seen action leading her Grenadiers against the border reivers that plagued the region. They exploited the disunity amongst the Valadian petty kingdoms and city states to strike them with impunity, while using the vastness of the Genian side of the borders for shelter.

“Shit, is that Traharn?” Mene suddenly asked, pointing at a man on horseback up ahead of them, riding in the same direction.

Tall, lanky, head shaved except for a strip down the middle that led into a braid. Sabre on his belt. The burly Arluk-Hoja Klass-and a second Tane didn’t recognize riding at his side.

“Shit, that is indeed Traharn.” Tane agreed.

“You ever tried following him? See who he’s connected to?” she added.

Mene shook her head. “I tried that. Every bloody gentlemen in the city wants to hear about his exploits. Too hard to sort the chaff from the wheat. Besides that, he recognizes me after that ball.”

“That would be an issue.” Tane said.

“Indeed it would be.” Mene said.

They continued riding, Tane having to consciously keep her horse’s pace down to match Menes.

She watched Traharn carefully, for any sign he had noticed them.

“You know, I’ve scouted around his townhouse, and I can’t see anything that’s in there with my third eye. He’s got anti-witchcraft sigils all over it.”

Those were common enough for the more paranoid sort of gentry, providing they could afford a properly trained ritualist to write the sigils. More than a few officers had ordered them put onto their troops lodgings after recent events.

“Reckon he’s hiding something, or just paranoid?” Tane asked.

Mene shrugged. “No clue. I mean, he might be involved with the brigade, he might not be. I hope he is, just so we have an excuse to put the bastard away.”

They’ d nearly passed Traharn. She watched him out of the corner of her eyes as they passed. “Watch him with your third eye.” Tane said once they were out of earshot.

“He’s following us” Mene said, almost immediately.

“Ah, fuck” Tane muttered, glancing back as nonchalantly as possible. Traharn had sped up to a slow trot and was gaining on them.

She loosened her rapier in it’s sheath, hand concealed by her cloak. Just in case.

“Ah, Mene! Or Maelgwn, I forgot.” Traharn called out behind them. Mene twisted in the saddle, struggling to turn her horse around, while Tane wheeled effortlessly.

“Mene” the witch said through gritted teeth.

“Well, Mene. Surprised to see you still here. Thought you would have left.”

“I live here, you know.” Mene said.

“She doesn’t.” Traharn said, nodding at Tane.

He recognizes me. Shit.

“Just following orders.” Tane said.

Klass chuckled behind Traharn.

“Anyhow. You’re still in my city.”

“The city you never lived in until a year and a half ago.” Mene said.

“Neither did you. Trarabac born and bred, if you are who you say you are. Which you aren’t.”

“I have better things to do than get into some pissing match, brother” Mene said as she turned her horse away. Tane moved to follow. Getting into a fight in the middle of the street would likely attract attention, and given where they were the mob wouldn’t be taking her side.

“Wait.” Traharn said.

“What?” Tane snapped.

He glared at her. “Why are you helping this bloody conwoman?”

“Because Mene’s not lying, near as I can tell. You both look alike, at the least.”

“So you’re accusing me of lying.” Traharn said, eye narrowed. She saw his hand go to his hilt.

“Yeah. I’m accusing you of being a coward, too. Or just very forgetful.” Tane said.

“Then back your words with your blades.” Traharn hissed.

“That can be arranged.” Tane said. “But not today.”