Jeanne and the others reached the outskirts of Inderawuda. Riding down the royal road towards the city. The top of the keep poking out of the tree line with a flag of the House Bellem flying above the peak. A distance away from the group was a lone stone obelisk standing in a field. It was etched in old Prydainish, with ancient images of tangled branches and warriors riding on horseback into battle.

“Well that’s interesting,” Silvius said, carefully examining the stone.

Hypatia already had a pad out and was drawing quickly with a stick of graphite.

“It’s a sanctuary stone,” Jeanne said. “They’re dotted all along the outskirts of the city’s borders. Anyone declared an outlaw can come here and be kept safe from the law for as long as they want, given they confess do the deeds they’re accused of.”

“How come you didn’t come here, first?” Maeryn asked.

“I wanted off this piece of dirt as soon as I could. And a few miles between me and trouble wasn’t going to do the trick.”

“We should throw on our hoods,” said Cid, “We want to attract as little attention as possible.”

“Wouldn’t throwing hoods over our heads make us look more suspicious?” Hypatia asked.

“No more than the next person,” Cid replied. “And a few of us are going to stick out like a sore thumb, if we don’t cover up.”

Throwing their hoods up, the group road up to the city gates. Once they reached the main gatehouse, Jeanne looked up and saw several gibbets hanging over the opened doorway. Inside the metal cages were corpses in varying stages of decomposition. Some had birds pecking away at the rotted flesh and sun-bleached bones. Along some of the wall were piked heads of recently executed.

“What is your business here in Inderawuda?” the guard asked.

“We were meeting some old friends,” said Cid. “One of them is having a child and we wanted to celebrate the occasion.”

“Well don’t cause any trouble while you’re here. Doubt you want to celebrate things in the city’s dungeon,” the guard replied.

The group nudged their horses forward down the cobbled streets. Much of it covered in dirt, grime, horse excrement, and hay straw. The smell of the city made Jeanne wrinkle her nose as she and the others pull their kerchiefs over their mouths. “The wonders of the modern world,” she said to herself as they moved deep into the metropolis.

“Where exactly did Kel as they were all staying?” Hypatia asked.

“In his letter they were at as place call Colin’s Comforts,” said Cid. “Hopefully it won’t be terribly hard to find.

As Cid finished, they turned a corner and found a small group of peopled gathered around a person placed in a stockade. They were pelting rotted food, waste and other projectiles towards the poor soul, who was crying out for mercy.

Jeanne looked out at the person, began moving her horse forward. “Jeanne,” Cid called out. She turned and saw the look on his face. Looking back, she dropped her head and let out a defeated growl.

“Damn it,” she cursed as she rejoined the others.

“Wait for the crowd to disperse, then we can fiddle with the locks later,” Cid said to her.

“If they make it that long,” Jeanne replied, looking away from the scene.

Journeyed down one of the avenues, something caught Maeryn’s attention, she turned her head slightly towards a noise. “Something wrong, Maer?” Jeanne asked.

“Drums,” Maeryn replied. “I can hear drums.”

“That doesn’t make sense,” said Silvius. “I can’t hear anything.”

“I’m starting to hear it too,” said Cid, his ears perking up. “Quick, find an alley and get the horses in there.”

They spotted an alley wide enough to guide their horses in, dismounted, and hid themselves behind several crates and barrels resting nearby. Jeanne concealed herself next to Maeryn and Leonidas, cautiously peering their heads up to see what was coming. The sounds of drums became louder with each moment. Footsteps soon followed and chants of scripture came in time with the drumbeats.

A column of flagellants moved across the opening of the alleyway. Dressed similar to those back in Teeg-Upon-Avon, but now with hoods to conceal their faces. Men and women flaying themselves with no thought to their own welfare. Crying out for the glory of the Shepard and his flock. At the head of the column was a man, long dark shaggy hair, unkept beard, and a gaunt appearance even from a distance.

Maeryn winced slightly when seeing the man. “Everything all right?” Leonidas asked her.

“I can smell him from here,” she said, waving her hand in front of her nose.

“Oh how lovely,” Jeanne said, looking back at the marching column.

“Is that our man?” Cid asked.

“He seems to fit the description,” said Hypatia.

“And he has the aura of a demagogue,” said Silvius.

“His parents should be so fucking proud,” said Jeanne.

“Look how many of them there are,” said Leonidas. “Must be dozens of the them in this march alone.”

“More like a few hundred,” said Maeryn.

“Well, definitely rules out muscling our way through,” said Cid.

“Was that even an option?” Jeanne asked.

“No, but now this is certain.”

“Do we still try to get to the others?” Maeryn asked.

“Yes,” Cid answered. “But let’s try and still to the alleyways, keep out of sight as much as we can.” Cid slowly left his spot behind a crate and grabbed his horse’s reins and began walking himself and his steed down the alley. “Come, before one of them decides to look this way.”

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***

Once they arrived to the inn, they hitched their horses and moved inside establishment quickly. Plastered walls draped with old tapestries with faded colors. Next to the hung decorations were metal sconces providing light to interior of the room, showing the smoke collecting along the ceiling above them.

Much of the crowd around them were laughing, cursing, eating, drinking, singing with questionable quality, and whiling away the time. Cid stretched his neck up and let out a sigh of relief. “I see them, come on,” he said to the rest and began worming his way through the crowd.

Jeanne spotted Kveldulf, Benkin and Gabriel sitting at a table, chatting amongst themselves as the rest of The Wolves arrived. “You’re early,” Kveldulf said, surprised.

“We had an incident,” said Cid.

“Two of them actually,” Silvius added.

“Thank you for the correction,” Cid said unamused. “So we moved up the timetable to come up here.”

“Well what happened?” Benkin asked, sipping from his ale.

Cid gave them a brief summary of what occurred with the flagellants.

“Oh, you have got to be joking!” Gabriel cried. “Fucking religious types.”

“That’s pretty much was Jeanne was saying,” Hypatia said.

“Yeah, I was so thrilled.”

“So, one of the Kolvilles is in charge of a group of religious fanatics?” Kvledulf asked.

Cid nodded. “That’s what we gathered.”

“Well that would explain a few things,” said Benkin.

“What do you mean?” Jeanne asked.

“There seem to be a few flagellant groups roaming parts of the city. They act more like street gangs than a group of men trying to promote religion,” said Kveldulf.

“Are there any other groups that are patrolling the streets?” Maeryn asked.

“Well, there are the Gutter Rats,” said Kveldulf.

“Really?” Hypatia asked, “The Gutter Rats?”

“I didn’t pick the name,” Kveldulf said, shrugging.

“It seems they’re the more regular arm of the Kolville’s thugs, and Bellem’s home guard.”

“Come again?” Leonidas asked.

“They’ve been employing local gangs as a form of auxiliary guard for the city,” said Gabriel. “They keep the streets free from random brigands and freelance cutthroats.”

“What happens if someone want to not be a part of a group?” Hypatia asked.

“Did you see the people in the gibbets outside the city?” Gabriel replied.

“Yeah,” Hypatia said.

“Those were the nicer sentences.”

“Nicer!” Leonidas exclaimed.

“And I thought this would be less stress for our poor souls,” said Cid.

“Really, Cid?” Jeanne asked.

“No, but you have to keep some hope for things to get easier.”

“So, there’s just roving bands of criminals wandering the city streets?” Silvius asked.

Outside the inn there was an outburst of screaming and yelling as people began congregating towards the opening of the establishment. Some of The Wolves rose from their seats towards the noise as Kveldulf pointed upwards. “Come on,” he said to the others, “we can get a better look upstairs.”

The Wolves negotiated their way up the stairs and into the room and Kveldulf opened the shutters to look down below. The sounds of the fighting became clear and the sight of dozens of armed men fighting and maiming each other presented itself for all to see. Dust rose into the air as men and women tore away at each other like animals fighting over slivers of meat and bone. Many had torn their uniformed armor and clothing and lost any semblance of whatever authority they once had.

Clubs, knives, nails and teeth were used as several gangs waged war before the tavern. Crates and barrels were thrown around and being crashed onto the fighters and the shattered pieces being used as weapons on their own. Bodies began piling up and obstructing the remaining combatants as they slowly traveled down the other alleyways and avenues and away from the inn.

“What the hell was that?” Maeryn asked.

“That was an arrest,” said Benkin.

“Who were the people fighting the officers?” Hypatia asked.

“The officers,” Gabriel replied.

“Those weren’t criminals fighting them?” Silvius asked astounded.

“Afraid, my scholarly friend,” said Kveldulf. “That was the city’s best and finest trying to kill each other so one the groups could get the credit for the arrest.”

“And how often does that happen?” Cid asked.

“Daily.”

“This place is looking better and better by the moment,” said Leonidas, rolling his eyes.

“What do you expect when their lord of the city is recruiting the worst of society to do his bidding?” Gabriel asked. “It turns this place into a haven of scum and villainy.”

“Any sign of what some of the other residents feel about this?” Cid asked.

“Obviously they’re not happy, but no one is willing to say anything unless they want either the gangs or the actual guards coming after them,” said Kveldulf.

“And what of the flagellants?” Jeanne asked.

“Oh, those people!” Benkin said letting a hoarse laugh.

“Many parade through the city about once a week,” said Kveldulf. “Usually they move through the poorer regions of the city, supplicating to people’s beliefs of obedience to try to stay their hands and give them some hope things will get better.”

“That and if someone says anything, they’ll flog the poor bastards until their dead,” said Gabriel.

“And they also go into parts of the city where some of the smaller communities are settled and start hounding the residents there.”

“What wonderful citizens,” Cid said, closing his eyes and shaking his head.

“So what’s the plan now?” Jeanne asked Cid.

“Well, immediately, we need to get set up with some lodgings. And then I want to see where these flagellants hang their hats. Maeryn, I want you and Gabriel on that. Silvius, you and Hypatia check the archives and see about what records there are on this Stefan character.”

“Anything specific?” Hypatia asked.

“Firstly, I definitely want to know where he calls home. I also want to know when the hell he became a part of this group he’s leading.”

“Should we try to find anything regarding vices?” Silvius asked.

“If can do it without getting someone’s attention. If the rest of the Kolvilles are under Bellem’s protection here, it’d be foolish to think he wouldn’t have people keeping an eye on people asking questions.”

“So we should probably try to get access to records indirectly then,” said Hypatia.

“How do you plan to do that?” Gabriel asked.

“It’s not terribly hard,” Hypatia replied. “Ask for records on resident religious figures to help with theological issues or misgivings, that’ll bring us close to where good Stefan’s records would be, at least with his time in the flagellants, and we don’t catch anyone’s interest.”

“Just make sure to be careful,” said Cid. “This isn’t Venetia. And we can’t underestimate our quarry. But let’s get some situated with room and board and we’ll start making our moves in the morning.”

Jeanne stood up to stretch her legs as she felt Kveldulf tap her shoulder. She lifted chin up in acknowledgement. “What do you need?”

“Just making sure you’re doing all right.”

“Better than I was before,” she said. “I’ve had some time to process, and get a much better perspective of the situation.”

“That’s good to hear. Still can’t believe one of these bastards is a holy man.”

“He’s about as holy as a dead dog,” she said bluntly.

“Fair enough,” said Kveldulf, “but you know people aren’t going to abandon him simply because of his familiar ties.”

“No,” Jeanne, grimacing out of the corner of her mouth. “Too many people willing to follow a fool into the serene Welkin fields when he’s taking them into the darkest pits of The Wode.”

“Well, you can’t help it when someone plays on the deepest beliefs a person will have for their own benefit.”

“No, but it’s gonna make it harder for us to get close to him.”

Kveldulf rubbed his chin. “Yeah. And joining them would be … painful.”

“I don’t think I could use my stone-scales and get away with not marking my back up.”

“No, they may see notice something is amiss.”

Before either could say anything, they heard someone down stairs give out a blood chilling cry of, “Help!"