Afterward

Reicharo appeared in front of the leader, kneeling with his head bowed, nearly touching the ground.

“I apologize. They have escaped. We lost all of our trackers in the battle with the mercenaries, and the rain further impeded our attempts to track them. I had anticipated that they would travel south, toward the capital, but it now seems that this was not the case. Our spies have not seen them anywhere along that route. I have failed you, my lord.”

“How did they transport the cargo? Did you find anything at the village where they procured the replacement beasts?”

“Again, I apologize for failing you, my Lord. I went to the village personally. We questioned the residents to no avail. I was thorough. I am convinced that no further support was provided.”

“Are there any traces?”

“None, my lord. No one will notice if a village like that disappeared into the forest for quite some time. It happens all the time. We left no evidence we were ever there.”

The leader rose from behind the large, ornate wooden desk and stood directly in front of his kneeling subordinate.

“What is the impact of losing the cargo?” His voice remained calm, but cold.

“We do not have a precise inventory, so it’s hard to say for certain, but it will most likely delay preparations by at least a year-“

The kick sent Reicharo flying back into the far wall. Before his limp body fell back to the ground, the leader grabbed him by the throat, squeezing it and pressing him into the the wooden wall so hard that the hard planks that lined the room snapped under the pressure.

“This is… unfortunate. Your incompetence had put me in an awkward position, Pe’all du teshonel.”

The hand squeezed tighter, and a low groan escaped Reicharo’s lips as he started to lose consciousness, but before the last breath of life was forced from his body, he was thrown harshly to the ground.

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“Unfortunately, your death does nothing to solve the problem. Go to Teklar. Let them know what has happened, and increase the speed of preparations. Have our spies watch for any sign of the cargo. Hunt those mercenaries down. The moment they put their filthy heads up, You must be there to take their necks. Do you understand, Reicharo?”

“Yes, my lord. Thank you for your mercy, my lord,” gasped the prostrate man through coughing fits.

In a moment, Reicharo had composed himself and returned to his feet, but maintained a deep bow with his face to the ground, now stained with his own blood.

“Go! If you appear before me again without news of success, it will be your last act in the world, do you understand?”

“Yes, my lord.”

Still bowing, Reicharo slowly backed out of the room and shut the door, leaving the leader alone.

In a rage, the giant man creamed and threw everything on the desk across the room with a single swipe of his arm. He seethed in anger, then took a few moments to calm himself down.

He walked over to a mirror in the far corner of the room, and opened the tall cabinet beside it. Inside was a wardrobe filled with clothing and other items.

He removed with vest and pants, then pulled on a shirt and slacks. He expertly tied a dark green, four-in-hand necktie with a perfect Windsor knot, adding a solid gold tiepin. Next, he donned a perfectly tailored jacket, and stepped into dark maroon leather shoes.

Finally, he removed the blood-red mask and black hood from his head, placing it atop the stand in the wardrobe.

He checked his appearance in the mirror, then pulled out a comb to tidy up the short, neatly cut, jet-black hair that had been hidden under the hood and mask.

Noticing some blood on his hand, he pulled out the pocket square in his jacket lapel, and wiped it off, before grabbing a clean one from the wardrobe to replace it.

He then reached behind the frame of the mirror until he found the hidden button. Pressing it replaced the reflection of himself with a black void.

Stepping through the portal, the tall, muscular man emerged into another room, similar in design to the last one.

In this room, there was also a similar desk, however, this desk was empty except for two small objects. The first was a small, flat, rectangular box.

He picked up the item and touched the face. Like a magic sigil, lights and letters flooded across the entire face of the box, moving around and forming lines of words that could be seen, even in the darkened room.

After examining the item for a moment, he touched the surface again, and then lifted it up to the side of his head.

“Hey, this is Simon…”

“Sure honey, no problem.”

“Bread, eggs, milk, and ice cream. Do we even have any food in the house?”

“I know, I know. Don’t worry, I’ll pick it up on my way back home. I’m leaving the office soon.”

“Sure, love you too, honey. See you soon.”

He put the artifact into his jacket pocket, then took the second object from the desk. It was a silver bracelet, which he fit onto his right wrist. He took a quick glance at it, then uttered a curse.

“Damn! It’s already six. I’m going to get stuck in traffic.”