XII

Watch Captain Brenner shuffled through the passage, his gait made awkward from a bad knee and wide girth. He was going to be late. Again.

These sodding knights need to plan these meetings not so close to lunch. He thought, bitter he had to skip dessert. His mood was further darkened by the paranoia that this meeting was going to be more of an interrogation. After the events of the escape two nights ago, the Silverbloods had been grilling his men constantly.

He followed the hallway to the right and approached a large set of gilded double doors. The Silverbloods crest, two crossed swords over a black moon, decorated one door, the Dreyamere city crest on the other. Brenner stopped just short of walking straight through. He glanced down at his ruffled uniform, frowning at the sight of the buttons fighting to stay fastened. He'd need to find another size soon. Doing his best to tidy up his appearance, he pushed the doors, which swung open without a sound. A large meeting room greeted him. The stained glass window depicting a Silverblood knight slaying a werewolf let a pleasant afternoon light in. Seated at a rectangular table in the center were several of the knights, who all turned to stare at the Watch Captain.

"Sorry I'm late gentlemen." He said, his voice sounding strained, obviously uncomfortable.

The knights said nothing, but waited in silence for him to cross the room and take the only empty seat.

"Now that you're finally here, we can move on to business." Stated the man at the head of the table. His sharp silver eyes stared intently at Brenner, a hint of irritation noticeable.

"My 'pologies, Knight-Commander." Muttered Brenner.

Knight-Commander Roderic cast his gaze around the room. His short cut hair and full beard had turned almost entirely grey, with only streaks of the original brown visible. His left ear had been mangled, and a horizontal scar ran around the side of his head. He gave off an air of confidence and authority that left no question of who he was; The senior Silverblood knight of this region. He leaned forward, dipping his head slightly in the direction of another knight.

The other knight turned to face Brenner and cleared his throat.

"Brenner, Captain of the Watch." He began. "We've read the reports of course, but we would like to clarify some things about that night."

Perspiration had already broken out across Brenner's forehead.

"We'll start from the incident and work backwards." The knight casually shuffled the papers in his hands. "Your men failed to apprehend the girl or her brother, there were several injuries, and one fatality. I understand there were some... unexpected complications." He flicked his eyes across the table, where Orin, the psycho-mage, sat. "But why did it go so wrong?"

Brenner squinted to see the rank insignia on the knights white leather uniform, his mouth opening and closing like a fish.

"Well...I wasn't there sir. But as was stated in the reports..."

The knight waved his hand, cutting off Brenner.

"I'm not asking what the reports said. We want to know why your men seemed so incompetent. The group sent to the orphanage couldn't track them down through the compound, and the patrol that spotted the fight seemed ill prepared to handle some rowdy children, gods forbid if it had been an actual threat."

The Watch Captain's eyes darted around the room. Every knight was staring directly at him, waiting for his response. He wiped his brow, his mind racing.

"We uh, we had no warnings about the girls abilities. My men were expecting a scared orphan, see? Whatever you did to her-"

"What I did, is of no concern to you, Watch Captain." Orin cut in, saying the last words slowly. "You and your men are supposed to have an understanding that this post is not a mundane assignment. They should be prepared to handle things outside of the ordinary. I see that failure as a blatant oversight from their leadership." The mages eyes bored into Brenner.

The Watch Captain gulped. "I'll um, I'll review the training plans. Their Sergeants should be handling that better."

"See that you do. A loss in confidence of the senior leadership is unacceptable." Orin let the threat hang in the air.

"What of the brother? We know you interviewed him prior to the escape. Did you have no suspicions then?" Asked the knight who first addressed him.

Brenner shook his head, his flabby jowls shaking . "At the time, we had no reason to think he or his friend were involved. We hadn't yet learned that the new boy who showed up was actually a girl, let alone his sister."

"You didn't find it a little odd that the night she goes missing, a new child appears at the door of the orphanage? The plan was concocted by children, Watch Captain. I'd be afraid to assume they are more clever than you."

Brenners face turned beat red. He had absolutely been out-witted by children, and part of it was because at the time, he simply didn't care about a missing orphan. He knew that they knew, even if it went without saying. He suddenly became aware of just how precarious his position had become.

"Ah, w-well you see sir, we...what I mean is-"

Knight-Commander Roderic raised his hand, signaling for the flustered man to stop.

"That is all Brenner. We only wanted to confirm a few things, which we have done. You may return to your office now."

The Watch Captain raised from his seat, muttering his thanks and apologies, then hobbled out the door. Orin watched him go with a grimace on his face.

"That man disgusts me. His blatant disregard for anything but himself is pitiful."

Roderic let out a sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"We've been over this Orin. We need someone like him to fill that position. We cannot risk having someone who pays too much attention."

"We need someone like him." Repeated the knight who had interviewing Brenner. "Perhaps it is time we replace him."

Orin sneered at this comment. "I would happily arrange the early retirement of our dear Watch Captain."

Roderic frowned at the psycho-mage. "We do not need more attention on the compound or the knighthood. Not like this."

The senior knight placed his elbows on the table and steepled his fingers. "Orin, what kind of a threat exactly is this girl to us?"

Orin leaned back in his seat and crossed his arms.

"Besides her uncanny grasp of her new abilities you mean? It's her memories. When I was inside her mind, I left behind remnants of myself, key moments of my past. My experiment has proven successful in that I have created a powerful magic user from someone with very little innate talent. However, I was not finished with the procedure before she escaped. I didn't get the chance to remove those remnants, nor was I able to scrub her memory."

Another knight a few seats down banged his fist on the table.

"Do you mean to say she could have knowledge about the inner workings of the knighthood?!"

"Calm yourself Roland. I am sure Orin did not make such a dangerous mistake." Roderic said, raising an eyebrow at the mage.

"I am no such fool." Spat Orin. "Its unlikely she even knows she has these memories. Secondly, she is mute--a convenient side effect of the attack. The real issue could be if another psycho-mage interacts with her. Someone from the outside looking in could, at best, find it extremely suspicious. "

"And at worst?" Asked Roderic.

Orin sat for a moment, letting silence fill the room.

"At worst, they could put some pieces together and possibly determine our involvement with recent events."

The men in the room exchanged silent looks. The Knight-Commander stared hard at the table, lost in thought.

"We've gotten too careless." The man named Roland said, breaking the silence. "Setting this aside, there's been a lot of complaints about the specters living in the infirmary. They've gone from a security system, to a nuisance for the nurses, sometimes harassing them even during the day. I've heard some talking, wondering how we've let it become so haunted. Then there's the village to the east. The minor lich in the swamps has gotten a big head, sending out more raiding parties than we can rightly deal with!"

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Several of the men started grumbling. The knight with the paperwork started flipping through his pile, frowning.

"I haven't heard about him getting so bad." he muttered.

"The report's still on my desk, Luke. I wasn't done reading through the details." Replied Roderic. "But Sir Roland is not wrong. As I'm sure some of you are aware, our numbers are lacking recently. We need more initiates to tackle some of these problems directly."

"If you'll allow it," said Orin. "I have a much firmer grasp on my projects methods. Let me hand select a few orphans, we can arrange something to justify their injuries and-"

"No." Interrupted Roderic. "The project is still too risky, and you've only tried it with the younger children. We will continue to find magic adept initiates like we normally do. In the mean time, I will speak to the city council about boosting recruitment efforts. We also need to become more preemptive about these attacks."

The Knight-Commander pushed his chair back and rose to his feet. The other knights quickly followed his actions.

"The meeting is dismissed. Thank you all for attending. Please keep me updated on anything regarding the girl. Sir Luke, come to my office, I will give you the reports on the most recent raids."

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Knight-Commander Roderic let out a sigh as Sir Luke left his office. He rose from his desk, walked to a shelf lined with bottles, and poured himself a drink. He eyed the stacks of paperwork on his desk wearily as he took a sip. Public relations were giving him a headache. Even with the transfers from other regions, the Dreyamere sect was struggling with numbers. The old knight returned to his seat and leaned his head back.

The public image of the knighthood is weakening, and I am partly to blame. The thought brought a frown to his face.

He looked back at a report on his desk. In recent years, the peasants, farmers, and normal folk outside the city walls had started to become proficient at fending off threats. He picked up another ledger. This one listed the number of attacks over the past six months, almost triple that as before.

It is troubling, He thought. When the number of attacks increased in the past, the support for the knighthood would rise. What's different now?

He set his empty glass down, contemplating his options. A curt knock at his door caused him to stir.

"Enter."

A young man poked his head in.

"Sorry for the interruption Sir, a courier came."

Roderic motioned him over, and he came forward, a small folded square of parchment in his hand. The wax seal identified the sender as the Ministry of Civic Administration.

Finally, some good news.

He cut the seal and unfolded the parchment, reading the message quickly. The Ministry had scheduled him, per his request, to meet with the Warden of Public Affairs in a few hours. Sir Roderic immediately started getting his things ready. Before long, he left his office, a satchel of papers at his side.

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Sir Luke rode beside the Knight-Commander as they approached the ministry building. An enormous square of white stone, it rose into the sky several stories tall. Snow had been falling for two days, and the roads were choked with wagons and buggies unable to move. The steps of the Ministry had been swept clean, but would quickly be covered again soon. The knights dismounted, tying their horses to the hitching post beside the stairs. Upon entering, they were greeted by a cheerful young women behind a fancy looking desk. Roderic handed her the message he had received, and she led them up a flight of pristine marble stairs, and to a very large door, with a plaque that read "Warden of Public Affairs". They knocked, and received a quiet "Come in, please."

The office was filled with dark wood furniture, and massive bookshelves lined the walls on each side. Three elegant chairs had been set up in a small open space to the right. In one sat a very strange looking man. He was small of stature, with a very round head. Unusually small black eyes peered out from below sharp black eyebrows. His night black hair was cut very short, but seemed to grow standing straight up, rather than lying flat in any direction. A dark blue tunic trimmed with gold hung loosely over his shoulders, as though his body was starved. He motioned with a smoking pipe in his hand to the other chairs, where the knights sat, thanking their host.

"Good evening Vyran, Keeper of Whispers." Greeted Roderic, a slight grin on his face.

The strange man waved his hand in irritation. "A made up title by silly people." His voice flat and lacking expression. "How have you been, Knight-Commander?"

"Busy, as I'm sure you know."

"Yes, I've heard about your recent... developments." Vyran took a pull from his pipe, filling the room with a pleasant aroma.

The knights waited as smoke rolled around them, floating to the ceiling.

"You have the latest reports?" He asked.

Roderic passed the satchel of papers over. "All the information about the most recent orphans. This includes the siblings, however you'll find the sisters medical files a bit lacking."

Vyran opened the satchel, leafing through papers. "Another one of Orins pet projects I surmise. Perhaps that had something to do with the escape?"

The knights said nothing, but shifted uncomfortably.

"And now," continued the Warden. "You've come to me for information." He set the satchel aside, and turned his beady black eyes to the knights.

"I've heard rumors," confirmed Roderic. "Some kind of underground movement, spreading slander about the knighthood. I need to know about this, and whether or not it is a threat. If the girl becomes involved in such an organization, things could become much more complicated for us."

Vyran rose from his seat and walked to his desk. He carefully lifted a sheet of paper and returned, handing it to Roderic. The knight scanned the page. It appeared to be some kind of advertisement. "New to Dreyamere? Lost everything? The Kindred Enclave are here to help!"

The advert went on to talk about family, food, shelter, and other things that would appeal to escaped orphans or survivors alike.

Roderic passed the paper to Sir Luke. "So, The Kindred Enclave. What are they, a charity group?"

"At first, it may appear so." Vyran Answered. "However, my sources have discovered they are in fact gathering information against your knighthood."

Roderic frowned. This was turning out to be as bad as he feared.

"What's their manpower like? Resources? Do they have influence?" Asked Luke, brining out a writing pad.

"As of right now, I have very limited information." responded Vyran. "There are indications of a benefactor lending aid, but their identify has yet to be uncovered. Their numbers are likewise still a mystery."

A knock at the door interrupted them.

"Ah, supper has arrived."

A man in chefs attire wheeled in a cart, loaded with food. Much better quality than either of the knights were used to. They moved to a small table set in the corner, as the chef set out plates. Luke raised his eyebrows when the chef placed a whole roasted piglet in front of Vyran.

"Avert your gaze. Do not stare." Whispered Roderic.

The group quickly consumed their meals, with Vyran devouring the entire piglet, even cracking open the bones to suck the marrow. Luke felt queasy at the whole experience.

After supper, they were brought danishes and fine liquor, and as the sun fell, the knights gave their thanks and departed. Once outside, Luke looked at Roderic, frowning.

"Sir, I have a question. About the Warden."

The Knight-Commander glanced at him with the corner of his eye.

"You're wondering about his odd appearance and behaviors."

Luke nodded.

"Let's just say, the knighthood isn't the only organization in this city to employ non-humans. There is a very good reason he is more than just a Warden of Public Affairs. His given title, "Keeper of Whispers", is more fitting than you could know."

Luke shivered, glad to be out of the strange mans gaze.

"Now," continued Sir Roderic, mounting his steed. "We must make haste back to the compound. I need to discuss what we have learned with Orin."