Jasper scanned the grandson's offer. “That’s pretty cold-blooded.”

“Tis the S̆addu’â way,” Nekelmû said dismissively. “If his grandfather knew of his ambitions, he would be proud of his craftiness and then he’d kill him without hesitation.”

Tsia finished looking over the contract and turned to Jasper entreatingly. “Please let us do this. Surely you wouldn't dream of turning down a tsussîm of their own?”

“While it’s not like the Ihra or I are going to give up our mounts,” Jasper pointed out. “And I have a feeling you know that. So really, you mean a tsussîm of your own."

The girl blushed. “Well, I certainly wouldn’t object if you offered it to me. But if you chose to…sell it,” she looked almost sick at the thought, “it would fetch a princely price.”

Despite her enthusiasm, Jasper felt uneasy about the Djinn’s proposition as he glanced over to Ihra and she must have read it in his eyes.

“You don’t want to do this,” she said with calm certainty.

“Not really,” he admitted. “I know S̆addu’â not exactly 'good guys,' and this group may even be a bunch of bandits, but I don’t fancy myself a killer for hire.”

“Isn’t that what an adventurer is,” Ihra questioned with a shrug. “Someone who is able to kill whatever - or whomever - is threatening public safety? It kind of comes with the job.” Ihra flicked her eyes to the steward. “Tell me, Djinn, how many of your men died on the last raid?”

“They killed all but one, my lady.”

“Just one escaped?” Jasper questioned.

“None escaped. But they left one alive so that he could return the tsussîm back to their stables,” the man replied.

“Why didn’t they steal your mounts? Didn’t Tsia just say they’re incredibly valuable?” Jasper asked with a touch of skepticism.

The Djinn shrugged. “Of course they are. But the S̆addu’â are greedy, not stupid. If they stole our mounts, our caravans would cease and there would be nothing more for them to plunder. They returned our mounts for their own future benefit, not any kindness on their part,” he finished with a snort.

“Huh. So kind of like a golden goose sort of thing,” Jasper grunted in understanding.

“A what?”

“You know, you don’t want to kill the goose that lays the golden egg.”

The Djinn’s eyes lit up with greed. “You have geese that lay golden eggs? You know, if you’d be willing to sell a few to me, enough to establish a suitable breeding stock, I’m sure I could convince the company to trade you a breeding population of tsussîm in turn.”

Jasper sighed. “It’s just a metaphor. I don’t actually have a goose that lays golden eggs.”

The Djinn deflated, and Ihra cut in. “They pretty much killed his whole crew, Jasper. I certainly won’t lose any sleep about taking these guys out, but if you don’t want to do it…” she shrugged, “we can find another way to pay. It’s not like we couldn’t pay the fee,” she added begrudgingly, ever loathe to part with their small hoard unnecessarily.

“Please,” Tsia begged, clasping onto his arm. “It won’t be that much extra work.”

“It’s not the ‘work’ I’m worried about, but…” he sighed heavily and ran his fingers through his hair. He wasn’t particularly keen on the task, but he knew Nekelmû was right. If nothing else, Bazā’u’s visit had proven that the S̆addu’â group would keep coming back, time and again, to squeeze the company dry. “Fine,” he agreed. “We’ll do the contract, with one condition.”

“Your condition, my lord?” The Djinn asked.

“If either of them surrenders, we’ll take them prisoner and deliver them to you.”

Nekelmû grinned. “I’ll add an addendum to account for that. Pleasure doing business with you, my lord.”

----------------------------------------

They slept for only a handful of hours before Nekelmû’s guards came to wake them. After the revised contract had been signed, the three had discussed their strategy, and it hadn’t taken long for them to reach the conclusion that it was best to strike as soon as possible.

Bazā’u himself had proposed attacking his son-in-law during the night, arguing that the easiest route to victory would be to catch the larger group of S̆addu’â unaware, and Jasper had to agree. But Bazā’u had also suggested striking the following night. Not fully trusting that the S̆addu’â hadn’t plotted some double-cross of his own, the three decided to catch him off guard.

Thus, they’d turned in early and long before the sun hadn’t even thought of stirring from his slumbers, they set off through the city. Beneath the cold gaze of the stars, the streets of Kiribāti lay abandoned. An icy wind raged from the north, great gusts of wind that beat against the shuttered windows with angry hands. At least, Jasper thought with some satisfaction, it’s not snowing.

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A crack of thunder echoed in the distance and, as if to mock him, large flakes of snow tumbled down from the heavens, tossed to and fro on the winds like a lifeboat in a hurricane. Great.

Laḫāssu’s camp, if Bazā’u was to be believed, was only an hour’s ride away from the city, nestled in a small hollow near the ‘Aqra river. Their mounts made slow progress in the snow; the drifts here were not as bad as they had been near Dūr-Yarha, for the cold northern wind was tempered by the occasional gusts from the far warmer south, but the roads were still in rough condition.

A half an hour’s ride took them to the bridge over the ‘Aqua - really more of a creek, in Jasper’s opinion - and from there they turned off the main road. Though the snow had covered all signs of it on the ground, a winding path of open space between the trees pointed the way. A few tracks marred the otherwise pristine surface of the snow, but even they were partially filled in.

“Doesn’t look like they’ve been coming or going,” Jasper observed.

“Probably not in this weather,” Ihra agreed. “But someone’s been active.” She pointed to tracks deeper in the woods where a large section of packed-down snow colored with a dully, rusty red painted a vibrant picture. Satisfied they were heading in the right direction, they continued on.

As they rode away from the great cliffs, the flat woodlands quickly dissipated into a landscape of small, rolling hills. The path roughly followed the river, sometimes deviating to avoid unnecessary climbing, but always circling back. The snow continued to fall, coating their arms in a half-frozen glaze that glistened whenever the clouds parted enough to reveal the stars.

They smelled the camp before they saw it. The smell of burning wood and a stew that had been boiling far too long was the first thing to hit their noses. The smell was soon followed by the actual camp, although it was far from what Jasper expected.

The river ran right through the encampment, which sat in a small hollow surrounded on all sides by the hills. But it was more of a fort than a camp.

A single large building dominated the space, a roughly rectangular structure that rose two stories above the earth. Its blue-gray walls, constructed of seamless stone, hinted at the presence of a mage. On one corner of the complex, a stubby tower rose above the tree line, providing an excellent view, while a singular entrance lay on the far side of the river, barred by thick wooden doors.

Yeah, definitely not a camp. Jasper squinted into the darkness, looking for any signs of life in the mini-fortress, but with the stormy weather, it was too dark to make out much of anything. He nudged Ihra. “See anything?”

“They’ve got a guard in the tower. He’s not moving though,” she added after a moment. “Could be asleep. Hard to say though.”

“Could you take him from this distance?” He asked.

Ihra drew her bow and, notching an arrow, raised it tentatively. The wind howled with renewed fury, the snow swirling around her like a figurine in a snow globe, and she lowered her weapon with a disgusted shake of her head. “I wish I could, but the wind’s just going to knock it off course. We’ll just have to get closer and hope he doesn’t see us.”

Jasper stared at the space between them and the fort. Though the hill they had stopped on was heavily wooded, the S̆addu’â had cleared away a large patch on the side of the river closest to them. Whether it was for crops or simply to prevent anyone from sneaking up on the fort, the effect was the same. If the guard in the tower was awake, they’d stick out like a sore thumb.

I suppose it couldn’t be helped. Unless…. Jasper pulled on his essence and twisted his fingers in a spell. He’d never tried to target someone he couldn’t see at all and, truthfully, he wasn’t sure if it was even possible. His fingers finished their movement, but the expected rush of essence didn’t leave him. Damn. Not fully deterred, he decided to try one more time. “Ihra, can you describe the guard to me? Anything at all.”

She gave him a questioning glance but complied. “Tall. Dark or maybe grey skin - hard to tell in this light. Kind of short horns. Has an axe, maybe?” Closing his eyes, Jasper tried to visualize the S̆addu’â and willed the spell toward him. This time, his essence stirred, and then…damn it. The spell fizzled again.

With a sigh, he started to creep down the embankment, praying the Djinn wasn’t watching. Tsia and Ihra followed close behind, huddled tight in their cloaks. They’d made it nearly half the distance when Ihra cursed. “Selene’s grace, he moved.”

Jasper glanced up, and through the whirling snow, he caught a glimpse of movement. It wasn’t much, a dark figure huddled at the top of the tower, but he released the spell he’d been holding just as the guard cried out. Purge.

“Int-“ The cry was cut off almost immediately as the figure bent over, hands clawing at its throat as the spell burned it from the inside out. Like deer caught in the headlights, the three froze in place as they waited to see if they’d been made.

All seemed still, save for the winds that howled through the barren trees.

“I think you got him in time,” Tsia said.

“I think so,” Jasper started to agree when his eye caught movement in the dark. Before he had time to process what it was, Ihra’s hand closed around his wrist and yanked him backward. He fell in the snow as an arrow whizzed out of the darkness straight toward him. She needn’t have bothered, though, as a gust of wind caught it up and spent it spinning sideways.

Jasper rolled to his feet in time to see another snatched up the wind and tossed uselessly in the rushing river. Hunkering low to the ground, the three waited to see how the S̆addu’â would respond. Light soon poured out of the narrow notches cut into the fortress’ walls making it clear that the inhabitants had risen, but neither arrows nor men emerged from within.

“Welp, so much for stealth,” he sighed. “But on the plus side, it looks like their arrows aren’t much use either.”

“Maybe not, but they got a fortress,” Ihra pointed out grimly, “and those doors look pretty damn thick. They can just hunker down inside and wait for us to wear ourselves out.”

“I might be able to bust them down,” Tsia said, with a touch of hesitation in her voice. “Or maybe you could burn them, Jasper?”

Jasper surveyed the fort in silence, weighing their options. He was willing to try Tsia’s suggestion, but aged wood wasn’t easy to set on fire in the first place; aged wood that was also covered in snow and ice seemed an even more difficult prospect. There’s got to be another way. His mind through the list of spells, and then he smiled. Sidling close to Tsia, he spoke in her ear. “I know you’re not great with flying, but there’s not a whole lot out here to hit. Do you think you could do it for just a few minutes?”