Watch Commander Harald Breakspear grumbled as he shuffled through the papers on his desk. This was his least favorite part of the job, though dealing with Count Trevallion and his toadies was a close second. Paperwork took first place by virtue of requiring him to constantly pay attention to it, whereas the pampered nobles seldom had anything really new to say. It was generally some variation on how important they were, and he’d long since memorized a series of responses that seemed to mollify them without actually agreeing with any statement they made, or committing himself to doing something for them. Technically, he didn’t actually answer to any of them, and could even tell them to go drown themselves in the river if he wanted, but he had to live out here, and it didn’t pay to be openly hostile to people with power and influence. He’d learned that well enough in the service.

There was a knock at the door of his office.

“Come in,” he said absentmindedly, as he rifled through reports on equipment maintenance and stores. If the muttonheads working night shifts didn’t stop dropping lanterns and breaking them, he was going to drop a few of them off the top of the palisade.

The door opened and Davina escorted in a pair of military officers wearing green uniforms with polished brass buttons. He’d been expecting this visit for a while now, if anything, he was surprised it had taken so long.

Still, he let them stand there for a few moments while he signed requisition forms. He didn’t answer to the army either, not anymore, and if he didn’t keep up with the paperwork on his desk it would start breeding more of itself. Once the stack reached a certain height, it just got taller every time he looked at it.

“Now then,” he said at last, ignoring the glaring sergeant and addressing her captain, “what can I do for His Majesty’s Royal Hussars?”

The captain sat down and held a hand up to the sergeant, who retrieved an envelope from a leather satchel under her arm.

“I am Captain Lexington, this is Sergeant Bellamy. I received your report regarding the fugitive known as ‘Dellromoz Kablizzawhack’, and was dismayed to learn that he had escaped custody. Nonetheless, I put together a patrol and came out here, confident that a man of your talents and experience would have recaptured him by the time we arrived,” the square-jawed officer told him, “Would you be so kind as to sign him into my custody?”

Breakspear did his best not to grind his teeth. “I’m afraid he hasn’t been seen since he left our fair city. There’s been some speculation he may have met his end in the swamp between here and Timberport.” Captain Lexington looked at Breakspear as if he’d just told him to go bathe in a sewer.

“You don’t know me, Watch Captain Breakspear, but you’ll find I’m not the sort of man who deals in speculation. If you don’t have a prisoner for me, I’ll need you to provide me with all the information you have on our quarry.” This was a reasonable enough request, and Captain Breakspear began to organize his papers into a manner he was comfortable leaving them in, but Lexington wasn’t finished.

“Moreover, I am rather displeased with the amount of time it took for you to send in your report. We could have been here a week ago if you’d been more diligent in your duties.”

The leather of Davina’s gauntlets creaked as squeezed her fist tightly to prevent it from wrapping around the hussar captain’s neck. She was fortunate she’d left her billhook on the rack at the desk; having a weapon in hand at a moment like this would be too great a temptation. The high collar of her coat mostly concealed the snarl that had twisted across her face when Lexington insulted the Watch Captain, but Breakspear still met her eyes for a moment, and she did her best to school her expression into neutrality at the silent reproach. She saw the sergeant glancing at her out of the corner of her eye, and she refused to give them anything they could use against Captain Breakspear.

“I do apologize for the delay; Count Trevallion insisted that we help pursue a fugitive who’d fought with himself and a number of other important local figures, and I decided to prioritize that matter over running down your gnome. Having spoken to him briefly before his escape, I didn’t consider him enough of a threat to pull resources off the other matter.” The watch captain delivered his reply without a hint of a sneer.

Captain Lexington scowled, and Davina glanced at the sergeant out of the corner of her vision, who stifled a growl of her own.

“This is unacceptable, Watch Captain Breakspear. We are agents of His Majesty’s government, acting on behalf of this kingdom!”

“So is Count Trevallion, my understanding is that he was elevated from a Viscount by order of His Majesty himself. Are attacks on His Grace not also attacks on His Majesty’s government? Is the pursuit of said attacker not also acting on behalf of the kingdom?” Captain Breakspear raised his eyebrows as he crossed his hands on the desk. Davina got the impression that he had played this game before.

Captain Lexington sighed. “Surely, His Grace has his own personnel to pursue his vendettas?”

“He does have his own staff, but he also requested assistance from the watch, and I chose to give it to him. I consider attacks on His Majesty’s duly-appointed officials a far more serious matter than chasing diminutive deserters on behalf of a force known for its horsemanship.

Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

“Honestly, Captain Lexington, I expect more from the hussars, when I wore the green and black it entailed riding into enemy fire, dodging attacks by artillery crews and Imperial pyromancers, circling the smoking tortoise until we cracked its shell! Surely you can ride down a gnome who appears to mostly travel on foot!”

“While I commend your bravery in facing down phalanxes of Agathocletian infantry, you must understand that we can’t ride anyone down if we don’t know where they are, and we can’t know that if we don’t receive our reports in a timely fashion!” Captain Lexington appeared to be losing his temper.

“Now Captain, there’s no need for raised voices. I understand your frustrations true enough, but I can’t be in two places at once, and attacks on His Grace must take precedent over hunting deserters. I don’t understand why you want him back so badly in the first place, he’s too short to ride a proper horse; he’d never make a passable hussar. He claimed to be a surgeon when I spoke to him, but there’s enough of them around to replace him. All you need to do is sort through a list of recent university graduates for someone with the right skills and a surname with a bit of tarnish on it, then have them drafted.”

“This isn’t about surgeons!” Lexington shouted.

“Then why don’t you tell me what it is about?” Breakspear replied evenly, “Because I don’t believe for a minute that it’s about desertion.” He tapped his index finger on the surface of the desk. “You claim to want my help, but how am I supposed to provide it if I don’t know what we’re really after? Is the problem solved if one of my people skewers your gnome on a billhook, or does he need to be taken alive and questioned? Is he on his own, or does he have a network of accomplices? Is the Popinjay a co-conspirator of this ‘Dr. Kablizzawhack’, an enemy, or simply a convenient but temporary ally? Does he have any weapons, or combat training? Does he have any talent with magic?

“I don’t know the answer to any of these questions, and the lives of the people under my command could well depend on those answers. Still, all I have is some frankly ridiculous story about a gnome who couldn’t pass muster inspection if his life depended on it deserting from the hussars.”

Lexington glowered at Breakspear from the other side of the desk, but was silent for a moment. Finally, he rolled his eyes in resignation.

“He’s in possession of state secrets,” Captain Lexington sighed, “Sensitive information of a military nature. He was never a hussar, we just need to capture him before he can flee the country and deliver the information to whoever he’s working for.”

Watch Commander Breakspear sat in silence for a moment, rubbing his chin as he considered Lexington’s explanation.

“Is he dangerous at all?” he finally asked.

“He may have some magical relics or alchemical devices on him, it would be best if he could be taken and restrained quickly, before he could potentially activate something unpleasant.”

“He may have, that’s all you can give me?” Breakspear growled.

“I shouldn’t have given you that much, this is state security, not chasing pickpockets and rounding up unruly drunks.”

“Your respect and admiration for His Majesty’s City Watch is duly noted,” Commander Breakspear remarked dryly, “I’ll put together a briefing for the patrols we have out looking for the Popinjay, if they’re looking out for one fugitive, they can just as easily look out for two.” Captain Lexington opened his mouth to speak, but Breakspear cut him off. “No, I won’t mention anything about state secrets, I’ll stick to your little cover story.”

Lexington nodded, then glanced back at Davina.

“You needn’t worry about Watchwoman Davina, she knows her duty, and when to keep her mouth shut,” Commander Breakspear said pointedly.

Davina nodded without saying anything, deliberately ignoring the glare Sergeant Bellamy was giving her.

Commander Breakspear pulled open a desk drawer and removed a leatherbound portfolio, which he handed to Captain Lexington. “This is all the information we have on your gnome,” he said, “and I take it this meeting isn’t to go in the log?” Lexington nodded.

“Fair enough, now unless you need something else, I have reports to read and requisitions to complete. It still takes resources to round up drunks and pickpockets.” Breakspear dipped a pen into an inkpot and began scratching letters on a blank sheet of paper. Captain Lexington gave the documents in the portfolio a cursory glance, then nodded at Bellamy. Davina opened the door for them, and they marched out of the watch commander’s office. She gave a glance at Commander Breakspear, but he didn’t look up from his work, though as she was closing the door behind her, she heard him mutter the word “pricks”. She suppressed as smirk as she walked back to the front desk.

Watch Commander Breakspear listened as Davina’s heavy boots tromped down the hall. When she was gone, he set aside his paperwork and unlocked a drawer in his desk using a key he produced from a small pocket sewn into the inside of his coat. Reaching into the drawer, he removed an exquisitely carved wooden box with brass hinges and its own lock. This he set on his desk, before unlocking it with a key that hung on a chain around his neck.

Inside were four felt-lined recesses, three of them containing the skull of a raven. Lifting out the panel with the skulls revealed a storage space underneath containing a variety of ritualistic paraphernalia, and Breakspear selected a wooden figurine carved like a bird with a peg where its head should be, and a candle.

Pricking his finger with a pocketknife, Breakspear smudged a rune on top of the small, beaked skull, and a matching one on the candle. He put the skull on the peg atop the figurine, which now looked like a bird with a skeletal head, then lit the candle and set them next to each other on his desk.

For a moment, nothing happened, but then then the skull and figurine moved, slowly looking back and forth around the room before locking its gaze on the watch commander and opening its beak slightly.

Harald leaned down next to the side of the skull, cupped his hand around the side of his mouth, and began to whisper.