The Highmarshal didn’t say anything as she led Hildesman and the other two trappers along the wall. Erwin and Patty murmured to each other urgently, Erwin assuring Patty that this was far from a normal occurrence. Hildesman took his queue from the Highmarshal, remaining silent.
About a quarter of a mile down the wall, the Highmarshal signaled a stop. She pulled a small device off of her belt and pressed a series of buttons. There was a slight scraping noise above them and Hildesman looked up to see a panel of the wall, set high up, slide inward and then sideways. Someone within the wall threw a rope ladder out, and the Highmarshal ordered, “Up.”
All three trappers hesitated. Everyone knew that the Order kept secret access holes in the walls, of course. They had to for practical reasons, if nothing else. But not once had Hildesman heard of those access holes even being revealed to a civilian, let alone used by them.
Patty responded first, slipped one foot onto the ladder and climbed the short distance to the hole. Erwin was recovered by the time Patty was pulling herself through the access panel, and Hildesman was right behind him. The Highmarshal came up last.
The room behind the panel was too cramped to even be properly called a room. Too short for even Patty to stand up straight, everyone compensated with a sort of half-crawl, half-crouch. Artifice lamps dimly illuminated the space, anchored to the walls with simple iron brackets. Erwin and Patty had moved to the right, making room for Hildesman to enter. There were two other people in the room, both of them glowing with fully-charged Order tattoos. The Highmarshal entered as soon as Hildesman had slid aside, pulling the rope ladder up behind her. One of the Order members moved to help her slide the heavy panel back into place.
“Report.” the Highmarshal stated as the panel ground against the outer wall. The other Order member in the room, a Sister with the Frontiers’ Corps, answered. “So far, the attacks and the news of them has been contained, Highmarshal. Marshal Wellborough has assigned investigators to liaison with the constabulary according to your instructions.”
“Anvil Square?”
“Placed under quarantine. All residents and craftspeople there are being debriefed as we speak.”
The Highmarshal turned, putting her back against the closed panel, and looked over at the trappers. “Alright. Questions now.”
Erwin and Patty shared a look, and Patty spoke up. “What happened?”
The Highmarshal held her gaze for a minute, until Patty broke and looked down at her own lap. “Infiltration. We don’t know who, or why, yet. But it was coordinated. Several attackers targeted different points simultaneously. Each was the placement of an essential piece of Order artifice. The city’s infrastructure relies on those pieces.”
“That explains why you aren’t letting anyone in,” Erwin acknowledged. “But why take us aside?” Why let us into one of your secret rooms? Hildesman added, silently.
“My men investigated each of you before we went to the bunker. Trappers, as a general rule, have a unique perspective on certain subjects. The Order wants to make use of that perspective to get to the bottom of this.”
“How?” Patty blurted, then looked back at her lap when everyone turned towards her.
“Firstly, I am going to interview you. Here in this room, in fact. Get comfortable.”
“And after that?” Hildesman finally spoke.
“Depends on how the interview goes,” the Highmarshal replied. Hildesman heard a slight threat implied behind the comment, but said nothing. “Any further questions?” All of the trappers remained silent. “Good. We will begin. How much do each of you know about the Marked?”
“Cultists,” Patty answered immediately. “People who tattoo themselves with ancient symbols, turn themselves into living Tessenium engines.” She stole a glance at the Highmarshal. “Not like the tattoos of the Order, though,” she added hastily.
The Highmarshal nodded, then looked at Erwin and Hildesman, expectantly. Hildesman met Erwin’s eyes, but the man’s face had gone stony. Hildesman mentally noted never to play cards with the other trapper. He turned back and spoke. “That’s only part of the truth,” he offered. Patty opened her mouth to interrupt, but Erwin stopped her with a small gesture. The Highmarshal met Hildesman’s gaze, waiting for him to continue. “Sometimes, a child is born with a naturally occurring Mark. Sometimes, an adult will develop one overnight without warning.”
“Officially, what they develop is a rare form of Tessenium sickness that closely resembles a Mark,” the Highmarshal said. “What isn’t public knowledge is that nobody has ever been able to prove a physical difference between a natural Mark and one created through heresy.”
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Hildesman was shocked to hear the Highmarshal admit it so immediately. He heard Patty gasp beside him. Her teacher didn’t react. He, like Hildesman, had already known.
“That knowledge is why you were brought here. Or, rather, that is why Mister Hildesman and Mister Lehnning were brought here. Miss Rill was brought as a courtesy.”
“How does that knowledge relate to the attacks, and how do we fit into the Order’s counterattack?” Hildesman asked.
“Not our counterattack. Most of the attacks failed, anyway. As you might expect, all of the targets were guarded at all times. The Order was able to repel the attacks in all but one location. We have already compensated for the loss of Anvil Square’s exchange station. We were able to capture several of the attackers in the process. They are the reason we are reaching out to you.”
“Are they connected to us in some way?”
“Not to you, no. But they are all connected. Every single captured infiltrator had one thing in common.”
“They were natural Marked?” Erwin guessed.
“We don’t believe so. We believe they were Marked by some unknown individual against their will. You, and other trappers who are aware of the Marked, are being recruited to track that individual down.”
“Isn’t the constabulary better equipped to handle this sort of thing?” Hildesman asked. “Or the Order themselves?”
“No. We haven’t been able to find out much from those we captured, but we are reasonably certain that the individual in question is not in the city any longer.”
“What makes you say that?”
The Highmarshal waved a hand at the other two order members, and the young man who had helped her close the access panel leaned forward. Hildesman noted his cord. A junior engineer. “Each of the captured assailants had the same Mark. It is new, unfamiliar to us, but an early analysis suggests that it is sensitive to specific frequencies of Tessenium energy fields. The Engineers believe this was how the attacks were coordinated,” he scratched the floor with one finger absently. Hildesman wasn’t sure, but in the dim light, it seemed as if the young man was sad. “We started looking into that frequency, hoping we could disrupt communications before further attacks occurred.”
“What happened?”
“We found the signal. Triangulation indicated it was coming from east of the city. We’re working on narrowing down the location, but we have narrowed it down to this region.” The engineer tapped the floor in front of him. Hildesman looked at where he had been scratching to see he had sketched a rough map of the city and surrounding features in the dust. An area perhaps thirty miles wide had been marked on the map, east of the city. Hildesman started committing the location to memory. Erwin leaned forward to do the same, then froze. “There?”
“Yes, Mister Lehnning. There,” the Highmarshal answered. When neither of them elaborated, Hildesman spoke up.
“What’s there?”
“Exile town,” Erwin answered. “Permanent one.”
“I thought they didn’t do that?”
“So did I, until about four months ago.”
“As did the Order.” the Frontiers Corps woman offered. The Highmarshal fixed her with a gaze. “Uh, sorry, sir.”
The Highmarshal raised a hand to accept the apology. “Go ahead, Lieutenant. Tell them.”
“We learned about it during some flyovers. One of the things we always track are the locations of Exile caravans. That way we can get word out to farming strongholds about when it’s safest to transport goods, that sort of thing. Six months ago, one of our flyovers noticed something odd. An Exile caravan, away out East, had started making a permanent place for themselves. Houses, wells, a wall, even irrigation.”
“A wall?” Hildesman interjected.
“Yes. Wood, not stone,” the Frontiers Corps Lieutenant answered. “The Frontier’s Corps has been tracking that community ever since. They’ve not moved in all that time.”
“And the signal is coming from somewhere nearby.”
The Lieutenant paused, then nodded. The Highmarshal cleared her throat. “We are commissioning anyone skilled in woodcraft to travel to it and find out what device or person is emitting this signal. You will destroy that source. If possible, you will bring it to us for analysis. The Frontiers Corps is assigning a scout to each trapper. They will support you as you seek out this individual.”
Patty asked the question that Hildesman knew the answer to already. “What if we refuse?”
The Highmarshal took a deep breath before responding. “You will be held as guilty of treasonous actions against the city’s well being. Imprisonment, ten years minimum, followed by exile or execution as determined by an Order Judge. We don’t want to do this, but a coordinated attack on this city by a heretical force hasn’t happened in over two-hundred years. We cannot afford to respond with anything less than absolute force.”
“We’ll need supplies. Rations. Ammunition.” Hildesman offered.
“Excursion kits are being prepared. They should have all essentials. You have twelve hours to prepare. If you require anything else, you can acquire it during that time. The Order will cover the costs if it is deemed reasonable. Tonight, you will each be guided out of the city through the eastern wall. Every trapper is being sent out on a different heading, in case they are detected. Any other questions?”
When the trappers were silent, the Highmarshal nodded at the engineer. “Charles will lead you to our temporary command building. You will get your kit and further orders there. And, on a personal note,” she held one hand up, carefully covering the length of her rank cord with her palm, “I want to thank you. Once this is all finished, come to the Order’s main administration building. Tell them Highmarshal Davadene sent you. I’ll see to it that you are compensated for this imposed duty.”
Junior Engineer Charles scooted away, revealing a trap door underneath where he had been sitting. It opened into one of the more common patrol hallways within the wall. The Lieutenant lowered herself down first, followed by Hildesman, Patty, Erwin, and finally Charles himself. Highmarshal Davadene closed the hatch behind them.
“This way,” Charles said, taking the second turn inward toward the city.