“???”

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The docks were nearly empty by the time the soldiers arrived. With the two ships currently sitting in the harbor, their respective crews had been dismissed for the evenings. On board the Caerus, Captain Smith glanced down the boardwalk at the horses that galloped to stop at its base. Eight soldiers in total. And as the captain watched, they didn’t make any efforts to dismount.

They appeared to be waiting for someone, and as the sky darkened with the passing of the hour, they continued to wait. The captain had debated on whether or not to go into town himself that night, but given that the men below were outside of his ship, it seemed unwise to leave. He was just about to lock himself into his quarters for the evening when a firm fist beat against the door.

“Yes?” Captain Smith asked, bracing himself against the long evening he was surely about to have.

“The First General would like to speak with you.” The muffled voice informed him.

With a slow hobble, the captain unlocked his door and four men strode in so quickly that they almost knocked him down.

“I’ve already spoken to the port authorities.” The captain said. Eyeing the men, he tried to deduce which one was the general by their brass. “I’m not sure what else you’re looking for.”

The general carried himself somewhat differently than the rest. He was blond with hair kept too short to pull back and away from his face. A little bit more rigid in his demeanor, with narrowed, calculating eyes. The man scrutinized the room before turning his attention to the captain.

“We’re sorry for the intrusion, sir. However, there are a few things I thought it best to follow-up on personally.” The general motioned to the table and chairs kept off to the side.

Captain Smith grunted his cooperation and took a seat, shifting his sling to sit a bit more comfortably against his side.

“What happened to your arm?” The First General inquired.

The captain looked down at it. “Slashed during the fight. Needed fourteen stitches. Sling just keeps me from moving it and pulling the skin.”

One of the other men took note of his comment, quickly writing it down. The general waited for him to finish before continuing.

“We received reports of a pirate attack at sea. Was this ship involved?”

The captain’s answer was merely a grunt of agreement as he removed his pipe from his jacket pocket, blessedly already packed with tobacco.

The note taker scribbled his response.

The general continued. “Were any of your men lost overboard during the fight?”

Captain Smith thought a moment before shaking his head. “No, all of our dead are accounted for.” He let out a heavy sigh. “Their bodies were brought to shore for proper burial.”

“And the bodies of the pirates?” He pressed.

The captain struck a match and carefully lit his pipe. “We tossed them over the side. Ain’t no point in bringing bodies that don’t deserve peace back with us.”

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The general gave a nod to one of the other men, confirming something amongst themselves.

“We also received reports that your ship was harboring a witch, and that she might have participated in the fight.” One of the other men said. He was broad-shouldered with a dark beard. “What do you know of that?”

The captain took a deep puff of his pipe, his face furrowed at the memory as he exhaled thick smoke. “I was paid handsomely for the passage of a woman and her escort. Neither was a witch.”

When it was clear the captain wouldn’t be elaborating, the general stood up. “I’d like to see their accommodations, and your ledger as to what goods came aboard with them.”

With a pained grunt, Captain Smith stretched his good arm out to where a heavy bound book sat on the desk behind him. “All our cargo from Covosna is recorded on the last two pages. Feel free to look. As for their accommodations, they were on the bottom floor. You can’t miss it, even if you tried.” He shook his head. “But it’s at the end of the hall if you’re unsure.”

The general took the book and flipped it open to the most recent pages, scanning them quickly. “In that case, I’ll return your ledger as soon as I return to the deck.” He shut the book swiftly and handed it off to the one responsible for the notes as he stood. ”Thank you for your cooperation.”

The captain waved them off with another puff of the pipe.

It didn’t take long for the party of soldiers to navigate the ship to the bottom floor. The First General may have originally thought the captain’s statement was more referring to the location of the door, not in reference to how the door was all but destroyed. Pieces of wood littered the floor outside of it, as if it had been pulled apart. The general took a step inside, holding up a lantern as he swept the room. It was a storage room with a cracked window, supplied by a thin pillow, a couple of blankets, and an open trunk of women’s clothing.

“Do we have any names, Harris?” The general asked.

“I believe there was a name captured, let me find it...” Alec Harris, the thrasher who’d come with them had been silent up till now. He trailed off as he concentrated, shifting through the scraps of conversations that they’d gleaned during the incident. With the motion of his hand, a phantom male voice whispered “—Daelyn, stop.”

“Daelyn... a rare name outside of Tarathe. An old name.”

With his men waiting around him, the general took his time digging through the contents of the trunk. Most of the clothes were in need of laundering, doubtlessly due to the weeks at sea. He opened up a grooming kit and took note of which of its contents were missing. There was also a hair comb, and a handkerchief with a hole in it. It was clean, and bright white, as if it had never seen use. The general picked up the handkerchief curiously and brought it to his nose. It smelled faintly of perfume.

He tucked it into a pocket. “And what does the ledger say, Sergeant Bowman?”

“A Mr. William Leander paid for the transportation of five trunks.” The soldier said, skimming over the full name.

“House Leander... another old name.” The general mused. “So there are four more trunks? Find them.” The general ordered.

The other trunks were found quickly in a neighboring room. The first was already open, with half torn papers strewn about the ground. Bending to pick one up, the general read what appeared to be a bank note self-addressed to Jasper LeMont from Count Lovick for a large sum, but missing the count’s seal.

The remaining three trunks were found tucked into the back of the room. Each packed full of women’s ball gowns which were carelessly crammed into the confined space. A pleasant smell wafted from the dresses. The same perfumed scent that was on the handkerchief.

On the outside of these trunks an insignia was engraved to the lid. A vine of thorns wrapped around an outstretched hand. The general frowned at the insignia of House LeMont. They’d been all but exiled nearly two generations ago, and Jasper’s few excursions to the continent were always met with careful observation.

The general stood up and exited back into the hall. Two noticeable bloodstains marred the floor out here, barely cleaned in the crews hurry to remove the bodies. He crouched down, noticing a strange pattern of splatters along the floor. Not splatters, tiny paw prints. Many tiny paw prints.

Sergeant Bowman came out of the storage room, the ledger tucked under an arm. “What would you like us to do?”

“Take the ledger back to the captain, and seize the trunks. I want them brought to my quarters in Ribnica.” The general ordered, rising back up to his full height. “I want one party to ride to Count Lovick’s estate. If the woman and her accomplice aren’t there, then I at least expect details on what negotiations he has with Duke LeMont. Have the men fan out and search for them. I want whoever did this—” The general motioned to the stains on the ground, “—Found.”