Ignoring Du’s sharp glare, I pick up the bacon sandwich and turn it around in my fingers for a moment, lifting it under my nose to inhale deeply and prepare myself. Gods … if I hadn’t already eaten three fried eggs and four whole sausages my mouth’d be watering a whole lot more, but smelling this just makes me hungry all over again. Maybe it’s just that this food is so bloody good, I swear I never eaten half so good anywhere else as I have here in the Temple of Minerva … or maybe it’s the fact I’m so completely alive right now, like my recent brush with death is making me appreciate all these simple pleasures so much more all of a sudden. I suspect it’s both.
Clearly I ain’t alone, the twins sure like this grub too. The two teenage half-orcs are absolutely mowing their way through substantial trayfuls of heaped food, with grease-splattered grins on their faces and big, sparkling eyes as they snipe and josh with each other between mouthfuls. They’re an infectiously likeable duo, I can definitely see why Shay’s so fond of ‘em both, beyond her simple projected kinship. I wonder how much she was like that when she was their age.
Their father’s real interesting too. I never actually met a military orc before myself, not even an ex soldier, but if I ever imagined one Sonagh’s just who I’d picture in my head. He’s real tall and broad across the shoulders, powerful but not too overlarge altogether, and he clearly keeps himself in muscular, fighting fit form despite his clear advancing years. He’s pretty good looking too, although really not my type at all, worn and weathered without looking broken down, his still thick black hair shot through with plenty of silver.
He looks a bit battered now, but I hear that’s cuz he’s been right through it recently. ‘Parently Kesla and her crew saved him from a real nasty assassination attempt last week, day after they arrived, courtesy of the very folk we been hunting. I’m told he was at Corvina’s Black Door not long ago, near dead from some real nasty exotic poison from two arrows in the back, only for the skill of Brigid’s clerics to pull him back from the brink. He’s been holed up in her temple since, at first just recovering, but since then laying low with his children at the insistence of Madame Daste, on account of Vandryss wanting him dead.
In spite of it all, though, he looks passably spry, all things considered. Dark circles round his eyes and a little more drawn in the face than I might’ve expected for his age, but he walks steady enough, and his colour’s good, while his appetite’s suitably strong like his son and daughter’s. Certainly he makes for good company now.
Shay and Krakka were sure surprised to see him, when he just seemed to wander into the lounge almost of his own accord with his kids in tow. They got over their initial surprise quick enough, though, immediately descending on him with greetings and congratulations at looking so well, all things considered, and soon enough started plying him with questions. Yeslee, meanwhile, simply slunk off, likely with the intention of finding the others from her group in order to inform them too of this new development.
Almost of his own accord, I mean, he was in the company of an Authority official, someone I was a moment placing before recognising ‘em at last, as much I think cuz I was just surprised to actually see ‘em alive. Junior Deputy Administrator Cafi Sirsk should be dead, I’m sure of it, I sure expected her to be among the dead from Madame Daste’s ill-fated drive to reinforce us before Vandryss pulled her latest cruel trick. Instead they showed up here today with Sonagh and his kids in tow.
As they finally make their way to the table now with a much more modestly laid tray in hand, I have to admit they don’t look like they been through hell. They’re a little twitchier than they seemed last time we met, in the Transit House, but under the circumstances reckon that’s to be expected. They manage something resembling a pleasant, disarming smile as they greet us all once again. “I trust I’m welcome to join you all?”
This causes a few frowns of confusion round the table, before Krakka just nods to the empty chair beside him. “Whyever wouldn’t you be?”
“Thank you, Master Krakka.” Their smile grows, seeming a little more touched as they clearly take the compliment to heart. Setting their tray down on the table, they deftly pull the chair out and plant themselves with swift, careful efficiency before shaking a napkin out and dropping it into their lap. “I must admit, all this running about has given me an appetite, and it has been a while since I availed myself of this temple’s legendary hospitality.”
“Yeah, it sure is something.” Shay beams warmly, munching on a big bite of syrup slathered waffle.
Much as I’d like to add my own acknowledgment of that wonderful fact, my hunger’s too strong, so I just tear off another big bite o’ sandwich. Minerva knows I need the strength, her clerics have performed genuine miracles getting me back on my feet at last but I’m still a ways from fighting fit, much as I’d like to pretend to the contrary. I’m putting a brave face on it but while I finally got my balance back and enough strength in my legs now I can actually walk around without support, it’s wiping me out enough just being up and about. I’m hoping a good hearty meal might get me over the hump, maybe even get me back in the fight in time for the next push, but it’s a gamble.
Dumoli’s seen right through my show o’ strength, of course. He knows me too well. He’s holding his tongue this time, letting me get on with what I need to do, but he’s still giving me hard glares the whole time, making it abundantly clear he don’t approve.
‘Least Brung’s behaving like nothing’s up, which makes it easier for me to ignore my other friend. He’s perched on his chair in the corner just working his way through his own meal with his typical hard-learned restraint, I sense mostly for the benefit of our new guests this time. Following the various conversations like always but otherwise being very unobtrusive about it.
Certainly, I was a little surprised how easily they seemed to adjust to his presence, but it still bore watching, people react negatively to our smallest member far too frequently. Sonagh took one look at him and simply bent down, extending his hand, which took the goblin very much by surprise, but he shook it quick enough. His children took all of ten seconds to get over their own surprise, now they’re mostly just passingly intrigued by him.
Right now, though, they’re both clearly fully focused on the food, and it’s really quite sweet. Taga, the girl, definitely seems to be the one who’s in charge out of the two of ‘em, lively and irreverent as her brother but clearly also much more forceful with it, and I suspect she must be the one who always instigates the mischief. Tebb, on the other hand, seems more content to just go along with it – he’s by no means submissive, he definitely gives as good as he gets when she snipes at him, but I get the impression he’s happy enough deferring to her lead. ‘Least they do get on, which I know well enough ain’t too often the case with siblings, but then being twins their connection’s too strong for enmity.
“So they just do this every day, then?” Taga can barely be understood through her substantial mouthful. Certainly, Sirsk must be translating exactly what was said, the way she pauses before answering.
“Oh, yes. Of course. They keep their kitchen open all the time, so the food is always available, even late into the night and early in the morning. After all, the Silver Order is made up of people who come and go at all hours, so they don’t know when they might need to take a meal. It’s really as much a matter of convenience as anything else.”
“But there’s just so much food, though.” Tebb’s eyes are wide over the idea, a speared chunk of sausage held barely an inch short of his mouth, seemingly forgotten now as he makes his own enquiry. “I mean, that spread is big as it is, if it keeps getting refilled, then …”
“It’s well known all across Rundao that Minerva’s temples are always open to the benefit of the people, and that includes the kitchens. So if anyone turns up at the doors in need of a good meal, it will always be provided without any need for payment.”
“Wow!” Taga’s as impressed by her brother, her own effort to appear cool about it slipping instantly. “That’s … I mean that’s so cool.”
“Ain’t it, though.” Sonagh passes a surprisingly knowing look Sirk’s way, which just makes the official smile indulgently. I wonder how long they known him, they both seem so calm and at ease with each other.
“Oh, here they come.” Krakka mutters low, looking out across the canteen now. It’s late in the morning now, approaching noon, I reckon, so there ain’t many other people here right now, before the lunchtime rush, making it easy enough to catch new arrivals. So I spot Kesla immediately as she makes her way towards us, Art and Lady Naru close on her heels while Yeslee’s strolling behind at a more leisurely pace, looking moody as ever.
Picking up their napkin, Sirsk carefully dabs at their lips even though they’re clean as when they sat down, and pushes their chair back with care before getting to their feet. They immediately go about inspecting their smart robes of office, smoothing them down even though there’s no need, finally taking a moment to adjust their floppy brown curls, their face growing more pensive now. They’re making a typically impressive show of assuming a professional air, but … I dunno, I can still detect the subtlest anxiety underneath it now, as they watch the big woman approach.
Kesla’s eyes widen well before she reaches us, her pace slowing as her feet stumble a touch once recognition hits. But she recovers quick enough, starting to frown as she looks the young administrator over. “Bloody hell … you’re still alive. How the fuck …”
“Mistress Shoon, it’s as much a relief as it is a pleasure to see you again. I apologise that it must be under such … strained circumstances, but unfortunately the situation has –”
Art don’t stop moving when he reaches ‘em, instead just stepping right up to Sirsk and wrapping ‘em up in a hug before they even realise it’s happening. They’re both about the same height, so Sirsk is cut right off mid-sentence, more from pure surprise than being crushed, I suspect, but they let it happen, their face going a little red all the same. Kesla, meanwhile, just stands by, watching with her brow quirked high, a little incredulous as she waits for the young prowler to get his shit together.
“Oh … shit, sorry.” Art backs off quick, looking real awkward, and I got no doubt under his fur he’ll be blushing deep. “That was … I’m so sorry …”
“No, it’s … quite all right.” Sirsk still seems a little take aback, having to inwardly scramble somewhat to get her thoughts back in order as they once more take a moment to smooth their robes again. “I suppose I should have expected some kind of reaction.”
“Well, I mean …” Kesla frowns again, shifting her feet uneasily as she looks them over again. “After what happened to Madame Daste, we figured you were gone along with the rest of ‘em. Seeing you here now is … a little unexpected.”
“Yes, I know.” They look past her, and I see Yeslee’s eyeing the administrator pretty closely. Not too hard to work out what that’s about. “I understand it looks … bad, but I promise you, I am on the level, as I believe you would put it.”
“I can vouch for Cafi well enough in this.” Lady Naru interjects, calm as ever. “I’ve known them for ten years, and I was the one who originally secured them the position with Venne. I trust them, so you can too.”
Turning to Yeslee, Kesla cocks her brow again. “Reckon that’s good enough for me.”
The Fir Bolg don’t answer, but I didn’t exactly expect her to. She just turns back to her subject, maintaining her fierce stare.
“Her Ladyship was taking care of her arrangements personally, so she left me behind at Redarra House with orders to continue with our inquiries on behalf of young Master Foxtail. When I heard about … what had happened …” They swallow hard, growing uncomfortable again as they look down at the floor, and their voice seems to crack just a touch as they carry on. “Um … I’m ashamed to admit it was as much a relief to me as a shock. As if –”
“She saved your life without even meaning to.” Kesla sighs, crossing her arms now as she looks down too. “Yeah, I get that. I promise you, it ain’t your fault that she died, but you’re gonna feel like shit about it for a while all the same. But you can do something about it.”
“Yes, of course.” Sirsk takes a deep breath as they look up at her again, gathering their composure. “I am … at your service, Mistress Shoon. Anything you require from the Authority, I will do my best to provide it. For her Ladyship. My friend.”
For a moment, nobody speaks, the sentiment hitting all of us pretty hard, then Kesla reaches out and gives their shoulders a companionable squeeze. “Good on you, then. It’s appreciated.”
Sonagh’s getting to his feet now, not bothering to inspect himself as he brushes his own clothes off. They’re a somewhat mismatched collection, I’ll admit, a pair of simple, somewhat oversized wool britches tucked into a pair of well-made but rather battered leather boots, underneath a rather oversized linen smock that I suspect he was given by Brigid’s temple. They have short sleeves that show how his thick, tightly muscled wrists, like his massive, gnarled hands, are covered in scars. He leaves his own chair stuck out as he moves round, heading straight for Kesla.
She sees him coming, but doesn’t seem surprised this time, more just relieved. “Damn good to see you up and about, I gotta admit.”
Taking a deep breath, Sonagh extends his right hand to her. “I gotta thank you, all of you, for what you did. Not just for me, but … thank you. For protecting my children.”
“That was all Shay, she did it without even thinking.” Kesla takes his hand and gives it a firm pump. “But thanks ain’t necessary, we all just reacted. They weren’t just shooting for you, they came for all of us. You can rest easy knowing the ones who actually tried to kill you all died pretty quick after. An’ we got one o’ the ones who ordered it already.”
“You do?” Sirsk’s brows shoot up again.
“Fellow names Vik.” She lets go of his hand now, loosely crossing her arms again. “Works for Hontiresk, just like we suspected.”
“Vik Gredan?” Sonagh sounds a little surprised himself.
Kesla turns back to him, her brow cocking again. “You know him?”
“Our paths crossed on a few occasions, can’t say I particularly warmed to the experience. He’s a common thug with delusions of grandeur. Can’t say I’m surprised to hear he’s involved. But you said Hontiresk as well? Refik Hontiresk? Of the Authority?”
“You know him?” Kesla asks that matter-of-fact enough, but I know she’s perking up inside all the same, pricking her ears, so to speak.
“Course I do. Madame Daste had me look into him more’n once in the past, he’s one o’ the most corrupt nobles still holding office in this city. Can’t say I’m too surprised it’s him involved.” He turns to look at Sirsk for a moment, but the official’s already returned to her meal. “Aye … what’d you want to know, then?”
Kesla frowns deep, thoughtful for a long moment, and her eyes flicker across the table as a whole. It lingers on me for a beat, almost as though she’s a little surprised to see me up and about instead of in bed getting some much needed rest. I mean sure, I do need it, but still, I don’t wanna let her know that, so I just stare right back, daring her to speak up about it.
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Instead she just turns to Yeslee for a moment, leaning in close to whisper something to her, and the Fir Bolg’s eyes narrow for a moment as she turns to her before hissing something back I can’t catch. She almost looks annoyed as she turns on the spot and slopes off back the way they just came.
Then she gives Sonagh a soft, friendly pat on the shoulder and gestures to the table. “Sit. Please. No sense interrupting your meal, we can talk while you’re at it.”
Nodding, the grizzled orc steps away from her and returns to his seat, and after a beat she follows, planting herself at an angle facing towards him in one of the remaining empty chairs and immediately sitting back, folding her arms loose and casual. Getting comfortable for the conversation.
When I turn to Du I find he’s looking out where Yeslee disappeared, seeming a little disappointed. I remember they were just starting to get reacquainted when Sirsk and Sonagh first turned up with the kids in tow, making her duck off in the first place. Finally he frowns down at the empty chair beside him, which he’s been holding for her since, and I have to stop myself from chuckling as I turn back to my food, picking the sandwich up again and taking another bite.
Art plants himself in the empty chair next to me, settling back with his paws immediately folding together in his lap, the slightest frown on his face now. He’s not looking at anyone in particular, and I realise that he don’t just seem distracted now, but particularly subdued. I know he’s been watching over Darwyn since they got back from their chaotic rescue on the Hill, but this doesn’t ain’t the fretful worry I would’ve expected after that. It’s more like he’s pondering something, some deep new revelation that’s got him proper vexed.
“So how sure are you it’s him?” Sonagh ventures after a moment.
Kesla chuckles. “Oh, ‘bout as sure as we can get. Vik fingered him well enough. He’s using a go-between, but his fingerprints are still all over this.”
“Which one?”
“Fellow named Jammund.”
That makes him frown, pausing before he bites the freshly cut chunk of sausage off his fork. “Orric Jammund … yeah, sounds about right. That old pirate’s perfect for this.”
“He insists he ain’t one.” I mutter through my final mouthful of sandwich, wiping my hands on my britches. “Was real particular about it actually, I remember.” I give Kesla a pointed look, and she returns a subtle nod of clear recollection.
“You talked with him?” Sonagh seems almost surprised by that.
“Briefly.” Kesla shrugs. “We went down to that tavern of his, on the docks, a few days back. Mostly just to have a look, scout things out. We weren’t really ready for a fight.”
I snort at that, really can’t help it. She grins a little too at the memory.
“Well yeah … maybe we did cause a little bit of a ruckus. But they started it.” She gives her shoulders a little roll, and there’s the subtlest tightening in her jaw while she does it, like her back’s giving her a little gyp. I heard she took a little bit of a tumble last night, makes me wonder if maybe it’s messed with what she’d still been recovering from. Means she might not be in such great shape right now, even after the healers worked their magic on her.
“Jammund’s being over charitable with his own history, I promise you.” Sonagh growls “He’s got himself a pretty dark past, even before the Occupation. ‘Least half the money he bought the Late Bone with was drenched in blood from throats him an’ his cut making their fortune. He pretends he was a simple seaman, but that’s a smokescreen he’s long been tending to make himself seem above board.”
“Well it’s clear enough to us he ain’t no saint, not with the company he keeps.” Kesla’s frowning again now, working her mouth a little bitter. “He’s in league with … something real nasty. Woman named Vandryss, from up north.”
“A Terror?” There’s a dark note in Sonagh’s voice now that speaks to his veteran’s lingering dislike for his former enemy.
“Worse. She’s … well, we ain’t sure, but we suspect she’s in league with some genuine dark forces. Something fell. She’s likely something pretty monstrous herself. I can vouch for that through personal experience.”
The table falls quiet again for a little while as this sinks in, and Sonagh’s put his cutlery down again, sitting back some as he mulls that idea over. I wonder if the possibilities that suggests have killed his appetite.
In the meantime I see Dumoli sit up a little through the corner o’ my eye, and when I look to him again his eyes are turned back towards the entrance again. Following his gaze now, I see Yeslee’s coming back now, and this time she’s got Shul with her, the half-hob fully dressed in her Order raiments again and moving with her usual workmanlike determination. When I turn back I find Kesla’s looking their way too now, loosening her arms as she sits up again.
“Good morning, Mistress Shoon.” The wizard gives her a surprisingly cool nod now as she stops a little short of the table while Yeslee returns to her own seat. “How can I help you?”
Something about her tone tells me she’s definitely in a bad mood with the big woman now, which surprises me. I wonder what that’s about. Kesla simply looks up at her with a perfectly calm expression, as if she’s done no wrong.
“Yeah, sorry ‘bout that. I was hoping maybe you could make some arrangements for Master Sonagh here, and his children. Set up a couple o’ rooms for ‘em, maybe send one o’ your attendants over to the temple o’ Brigid, pick up anything they might’ve left there they’d be needing to get comfortable?”
Sonagh’s frown gets deeper at that. “I don’t understand …”
“Things are a bit … crazy right now, I reckon. Best if you were all over here with us for the foreseeable, be easier for us to watch out for you while we’re here.” Kesla sighs, giving him a surprisingly firm look. “Honestly, it’d just make me feel a whole lot better about this whole mess, if you don’t mind?”
He’s a long beat answering, but when I look at them the twins have stopped eating and are both watching him closely. Honestly, I would’ve expected them both to start complaining immediately about being asked to uproot themselves yet again, but I guess they’re both old enough now to understand this is serious business. Finally their da nods, although his sigh’s deep and more’n a little weary. “Aye, reckon you got a point there. Fine by me.”
Nodding, Kesla turns back to Shul. “Good. Um … yeah, you all right with that? I mean … I don’t mean to impose, but –”
“No, it’s fine.” the wizard sighs, looking down now. “Your reasoning is sound, and Master Saxiros has made it abundantly clear that the temple’s resources are to be made fully available to you in this venture, so you’re well within your bounds to ask. I’ll make the due arrangements immediately. Is there anything else you need in the meantime?”
“Yeah …” Sonagh falters as he seems to surprise himself a little by speaking. “Um … I’m sorry. Just … yeah, hope I ain’t imposing by asking, but any chance maybe you could get a message to my tavern too? The Rare Lady.”
Blinking, Shul’s expression changes considerably when she looks him over, becoming a good deal more open and inviting now. “Oh no, it’s no imposition at all. I imagine it’s only prudent. May I ask to whom you wish to speak?”
“My man Dow, he’ll be running the place while I’m gone. Just ask him to go in my trunk upstairs, bring me the sword and dagger he finds in there. Anything else I need I can talk to him about when he’s here.”
She frowns just a little at that, but nods all the same. “Of course. I’ll get right on it, then.” She turns and gives Kesla a particularly pointed look, then turns on the spot and stalks out without breaking stride.
Turning to her now, I clear my throat. “What’s up with her, then?”
Kesla smiles now, but it’s somewhat rueful. “I suspect she finally found out about what I did to Vik once it got quiet round here again. She won’t be too happy with me about that.”
Not quite getting what she means, I look to Art, who blinks, seeming almost surprised by being queried now, but at least it snaps him out of whatever trance he was in. “Oh, she beat the fuck out of ‘im after we got back from the Heath. Wanted to know about those mercs we ran into out there, but he didn’t know anything about ‘em.”
“Oh, right.” I nod, frowning a little more at the thought of ‘em, and that half-hob cleric in particular. My hand goes to the still sore spot just below my chest entirely on its own, the memory of her running me right through giving me an unbidden twinge. “Yeah, them …”
“Who’s this?” Sonagh turns to Kesla again, a curious look on his face now.
“Turns out Vandryss brought in some sellswords to try and take us out. They came uncomfortably close, too. Serious bunch, proper pros. One o’ the reasons I’m being so cautious about this business right now.”
An interesting look crosses Sonagh’s face at that, and his frowns deepens even more. He growls under his breath for a moment, pondering, then look up again. “What can you tell me about ‘em?”
Frowning too, Kesla watches him for a thoughtful beat of her own before answering. “Seemed like a pretty exotic bunch, they had an imori with ‘em, apparently, and an armoured ogre, like from back in the War. A halfling archer, and a half-hob cleric, ‘parently she was a servant of Corvina.” Her eyes flicker to me for a moment as I wince again involuntarily at the memory, and give that spot another little rub. “A hedge wizard, and a half-orc fighter. Leader was a dragonhalf. A red one, real skilled one with a sword. Scary good, in fact.”
“Reckon they might’ve been from Abharet.” I venture. “The cleric sounded like she was from my neck o’ the woods, and the imori suggests the others might be too.”
Shaking her head, Kesla sits forward now, folding her arms again on the table top as she leans into ‘em. “Their leader weren’t. Way she talked, sounded like she’s from Tabaphic. Highborn, too.”
Sonagh nods now, letting another heavy sigh go as he sits back the rest of the way into his chair and folds his arms too. “I think I know who that is. Not the rest o’ the mercs, but their leader definitely rings a bell. And it won’t have been this Vandryss who hired ‘em. That’ll have been Hontiresk himself.”
“Really?” Kesla’s watching him like a hawk now, her stare genuinely intense. It’s the look of a hunter zeroing in on her prey. “By all means, please. Do tell.”
Again he pauses for a moment, looking her over again before answering, seeming to order his thoughts now. “Most likely, that’ll be a sellsword assassin name of Dramrath Mallys. Don’t know much about where she came from originally, but I know she was tied up with Hontiresk’s father for a fair few years, before the Invasion. He was as bad as his son, but a good deal more cowardly, didn’t like to get his hands dirty at all so any nasty work needed taking care of he’d farm it out to this Mallys and she’d either take care of it herself or find someone better suited for it. From what I can tell, a fair number o’ the bodies found floating in the harbour back then were her own handiwork.”
“Charming.” Lady Naru hisses, sounding duly offended.
“Then the Occupation came and Hontiresk’s father fell down a very tall flight of stairs. The consensus among many of his detractors is that he pushed the old man himself, which wouldn’t surprise me at all. He may seem similarly weak and callow, but it’s a clever disguise. Refik Hontirestk’s got a lot more steel in his spine than his da.” Sonagh clears his throat as he sits up again, reaching out now to pick up his cutlery again. Seems his appetite returning with the turn of the conversation. “Far as I can tell, Mallys left the city in the early days o’ the Invasion, shipped south with the rest o’ the refugees. Given what you just told me, if it is her she’s clearly been plying her trade in Abharet since, and built up a party similar to your own while she’s been at it. Imagine if Hontiresk wanted to bring someone serious in to rub you out he’ll definitely have remembered his da’s pet killer.”
“So d’you know that much about her?” Kesla wonders now, still watching him close.
“I never ran into her myself, but I heard things about her in the days before the Invasion. Enough to piece together a reputation, at least. I don’t know about Tabaphic, but you thinking she’s highborn seems to track, I heard she got airs about her. Must’ve been trained as a would-be knight, from what I heard ‘bout her skill. You’re right, she’s proper lethal with a blade. You might be Edhril Shoon’s daughter, but if you did cross swords with her you’re lucky to be alive after. I suspect the rest of her crew should be similar high calibre to be working with her.”
Kesla nods again, looking down at the table as she starts to ponder again. Likely considering her enemy now, since she’s finally got a name to go with the face.
While she’s at it, the mood round the table seems to fluctuate, pensive at first as these latest revelations circulate, but soon enough spirits seem to lift as those who still have food in front of us dig back in and start to polish off what we got left. More casual conversations start to strike up soon enough, particularly Du and Yeslee, clustered close together now in their corner and whispering low, thick as thieves. Tebb and Taga, meanwhile, are sniping good-naturedly at one another again, their particularly boisterous banter carrying the most about the room.
Finally Kesla sits up again and turns to me, thoughtful again as she looks me over, but particularly critical in her regard this time. “So how’re you holding up?”
That makes me frown again, and as I set my knife and fork aside, picking up a piece of bread so I can start mopping the grease, gravy and syrup from the now empty crockery, I match her regard sharp as I can. “Well enough, considering I was practically dead two nights back. The healers’ve done a decent enough job. Doubt I’ll be much good with an axe for another day, but I can move round well enough.”
She considers that for a long moment, and I suspect she’s working out whether or not she really believes me. I ain’t that confident in the bluff there, I feel like if I really had to move with any real speed right now I’d likely fold and then empty my stomach right on the floor. It’s all I can do to keep my hands from shaking right now.
In the end she just nods, pushing her chair back before sitting up. “Well, we’ll see if a bluff’ll do, then. I doubt there’ll be any need for an actual fight in what I plan on doing next. In fact, might be better if we didn’t get into one.”
Sirsk is watching her with a more complex look now, not so much confusion as concern, maybe. “I’m sorry, what … what do you intend to –”
“I wanna go talk to this Hontiresk.” Kesla looks like she’s pretty much done with this conversation already and wants to get up and go. “Soon as possible. Look him in the eyes and ask him some questions.”
Lady Naru’s watching her closely now too, frowning deep. Sirsk’s eyes have widened considerably once the impact of what Kesla’s implying sinks in, while Sonagh’s barely seems so have changed at all, just the slightest narrowing to his eyes saying he’s reacting at all.
“You can’t be serious.” Sirsk breathes after a moment.
“I agree,” Lady Naru nods, her brow creasing tighter. “With all that’s been going on, I cannot condone this course of action. Vandryss will surely –”
Sonagh runs right over her, to her surprise as much as the rest of us who’re actually following this conversation. “I dunno, unless she’s a total mad dog I don’t see her doing anything so stupid overt right in front of her boss, or whatever he is to her. I mean you’re the ones who know her, but … from what I know of what’s gone on this is a pretty smart, secret operation. If Vandryss is the mastermind here than she’s gonna be cool enough not to just jump on you at the slightest provocation.”
“But he’s an Authority official.” Sirsk looks to be on the verge of panic, but holding onto themselves by their nails even so. “A very senior one. Mistress Shoon, please … propriety alone –”
“Reckon we’re beyond that right now.” Kesla shrugs. “Besides, I ain’t gonna be going in threatening, this is gonna be peaceful. I just wanna talk.”
I shoot a look at Art, who’s been pretty silent all through this new turn, just frowning after her. He picks up on my scrutiny now though, and returns a sharp look. Not sure what to read into that. But I’m convinced she’s got an ulterior motive here.
“I’ll come with you then.” Sonagh interjects after a beat. “If you don’t mind waiting on Dow.”
Again all eyes shoot to Kesla, and his kids are included this time, their own banter cut dead as they must pick up on his mood. She just considers him for a beat. “You sure ‘bout that? I can’t guarantee your safety out there, not now. You’re still a target, after all.”
“Won’t be much different from any other day I been working with Daste. And I owe her.”
That makes Sirsk look down, their face reddening more as they grow awkward.
“Fair enough. Long as you’re careful, you’re welcome.” Kesla turns to me again, that same cool scrutiny in her eyes. “How ‘bout it, Thel? Wanna get back in the game?”
Mulling it over for a few moments, I look to Du now, finding him still deep in his whispered conversation with Yeslee. Brung’s watching me close, though. Wanting to back me up, no doubt. Honestly, given what we’re gonna do I can’t be sure it’s actually a smart move. “Yeah, sure. Like I said, can’t promise I’ll be any good if anything happens, but …”
“Yeah, well as I said, I’m banking on it not happening.” Kesla pushes her chair back a little more, readying herself to stand, I’m sure.
“You want me to come too?” Art offers up before she can start pushing herself up. “Just in case?”
“Not you, no.” She turns to Shay, who’s opening her own mouth now, looking ready to offer up her own help too. “Nor you. I want you both to stay with the others. I got other plans for all o’ you.”
That gets her frowning. “What plans?”
The subtlest shadow of a grin crosses her lips, dark and more’n a little dangerous, as she pushes herself upright. “I want you to go to the Late Bone. Take Yes, Big Man, Dumoli, Brung, Zuldrad and Lady Naru with you. Go in fast and hard. Clean the place out. If our friends are there, great, but I doubt they will be. I just want you to work a nice fat splinter under Jammund’s thumbnail while his boss is distracted with me.”
“Me?” Lady Naru frowns up at her. “But surely, if you are going to speak with Hontiresk, then you would need me to –”
“No, definitely not. I don’t want you involved in that. Daste was real particular about not letting your part in our investigation get out in an official capacity, and I’m gonna stick to that. I’m taking Tulen instead. Mostly on the off-chance we do need magic, but also I wanna drum into him that the Order’s got a stake in what’s going on.” She turns to Sonagh again. “You both got time to finish here ‘fore I need ready. I got some preparation to do anyway.”
“Like what?” I wonder, surprising myself a little by speaking out loud.
“Like I gotta get my spare Jack outta the Bag o’ Holding.” She looks down the table now. “Yes!”
The Fir Bolg’s ears actually twitch at the call, and her attention snaps up immediately. “What’s up?”
“Can I borrow you for a few?”
Frowning a little, Yeslee shoots a look to Dumoli, who returns her look with clear frustration at their catch-up being cut short again, and I have to fight another urge to tip him a smug grin. Pushing away from the table, she simply gives him a cool shrug and pushes her near empty platter towards him, clearly offering up what’s left of her own food, before stepping away to join her friend.
As the two women head out the room again, I turn back to look over the rest of the table, where the mood’s clearly turned a little more fractious. Finally I look to Art again. “Okay, so what am I actually doing, then?”
He just shrugs. “Reckon she’ll let you know ‘fore you head out. Might wanna finish up while you can.” He flicks his look down at what’s left of my own breakfast.
Starting to mop up the leftover juices with the bread, I suck down a wary breath and mull for a beat as I go over this development in my head. How likely is it this won’t turn out to be trouble after all? I’m tempted to break my armour out after all, just in case …