Deeper knowledge and understanding of the local religion was what he needed. Old man Karlo helped with this while he stayed at the inn in the room next to him as he had nowhere to go. He was eager to gospel about their religion and of course speak ill of ‘the children’.

At first this helped him stablish some negative points he could use against the religious group; they had stablished the prohibitions by force, entering some designated areas was punishable by lashing, among other gossip that could help if he found evidence.

With time however, his comments went from helpful to just an old man complaining of younger folk.

During the third day with noon approaching his son appeared at the inn and took him home. The other patrons were getting annoyed by his constant bickering so the innkeeper had called for the old man to be taken away.

With the man out of the picture Eigil had more freedom to act.

For the last four days and three nights he had lived in disguise. During the day he was the awkward scribe trying to record a mostly neutral view of current and important historical events. At night he scouted the city to understand and classify the members of the church; he needed to find dirt on the higher ups and fast.

By now the deadline his father has stablished had come and gone. Eigil was not worried; this man was his father but in the organization they both ranked the same so his only worry was disappointing his grandfather.

Most the locals had their roots in the Rian church and transitioned only due to recent events; if he was able to crack the ‘children of the garden’ reputation the people would do the rest.

Normally discrediting a religious institution would be close to impossible. People tend to see members of the churches as good men; even if they are rapists and murderers, they could be excommunicated and denounced but the institution never suffers.

This time it was much simpler than this.

The members of the children were nothing more than mercenaries and hired thugs. This detail combined with the fact that this religion was just a few years old in the country would mean people were still not rooted and their minds could be disturbed by a simple event.

During the fourth night of scouting the city his worries banished, he found his targets. Tonight, the moon was on its last quarter, it would not rise until around midnight and even then, the light would be dim giving him the best conditions to trail them.

Eigil used some of the slums on the eastern section of the city to transverse from the inn to the royal palace. This took trice as long as if he had gone by the direct route but it was less guarded and the architecture in the area gave him more possibilities to move in shadow.

He heard footsteps while crossing between dark alleys and decided to investigate as there was not supposed to be any guards patrolling the area.

To his surprise he found all of the three men he had been unable to find until now.

Rowan and Manuel walked down an empty street heading eastbound while escorting a man who could only be the bishop.

All of them wore formal attires with the colours of the church, green and white, but even with this they all looked unique.

The bishop was an older man, close to seventy years of age, hunched and with a long white beard. His priest robes were anything but simple, embroider detail could be appreciated even at a distance covering most of the front. Some of the decorations across his body were bright on the light meaning he was walking one of the more dangerous parts of town covered in silver and gold threat with precious gems through his garments. This spoke more of the faith in his companions than in his gods.

Manuel was not so distant in terms of luxury; he looked more like one of the nobles in the church colours with his white jerkin with strictly vertical slashes and green shirt frills at the neck and cuffs. Atop his jerkin, he had a white half cape, edged in gold cord. While the rest of his ensemble was white, his doublet was a dull crimson colour. He walked to the bishops right and was engaged in conversation with the old man while they walked,

Two metres behind to the left Rowan looked just menacing even with the more calming colours. He used a combination of plate pauldrons and lower leather armour that left his chest bare but protected his lower abdomen and thighs. In his back over a cape or cloak; Eigil could not say, was his weapon. The more than five-hundred-year-old axe given to him by the saint of the dragon style when he achieved the rank of monarch.

Sozeth was a two hundred-and twenty-centimetre-tall axe, its blade resembled a dark dragon’s wing with a pitch-black pole that ended in a pummel that looked more like a pike. It was known to have cut through steel chain like a hot knife through butter.

Only the other twenty-one weapons of the monarchs could compare. It was a nightmare to come up with a way to take this man down. This was the first time in years Eigil felt real fear of a fight.

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He was tensed as he followed them. These were not the usual aristocrats and merchants he was used to hunting. He had to maintain his distance and followed them through secondary roads, alleys and even the roofs.

They continued east and turned south when closing towards the wall. This area was the poorest among the stone section, some parts of it was abandoned and the rest was filled with small houses and abandoned warehouses. He expected them to enter one of the larger buildings but instead they stopped at the gates to enter the largest graveyard in the city.

Eigil could not follow in the open, the cemetery occupied the side of a large hill, the summit of which was cut by the outer wall of the city. If he continued after them, he would be an easy target, taking a second to think he decided to track them from afar using a looking glass.

The old house he chose to climb was the only three story building close by and the only with a flat surface at the highest point. It was in a state of disrepair but this helped him climb faster to the highest roof.

When he reached the top, he saw movement. A shadow turning towards him. Knowing he had been spotted Eigil jumped towards the sentry on the roof.

He was a small and slender man using a fully black attire and cloak to pass unnoticed by anyone on the streets. Two meters to his left stood a gong and a standing torch to signal other members.

The man was not ready for an attack, he probably had this station for a while and let his guard down due to monotony and boredom. That gave Eigil the time he needed to close the distance between them.

The man opened his eyes wide, the whites like torches among the black that constructed his figure. His right hand rose, revealing a small hammer, not a weapon for combat but a tool to ring the gong.

Before the man could throw the hammer to sound the alarm Eigil threw a small knife that met the man’s wrist. The severed nerve caused the sentry to drop the hammer halfway through the movement; the tool sliding meters away from the alarm.

He started to crouch and flung his left hand towards his injury opening him up to Eigils next attack. With a single blow to the neck and one to the back of the knee he was down. Eigil administered a shock causing the man to bit his own tong, and began to drown on his own blood while unconscious.

It took Eigil less than a second to neutralise his enemy after the first impact, in this time the faintest beginning of a scream left the injured man. Eigil stayed down and took out his needles, preparing for combat. After about two minutes he relaxed and stood back up. The sounds of choking were fainter now, the man would die in no time.

Eigil took a deep breath and started to scout the area from his vantage point. With his eyes already accustomed to the dark he could see other figures filling the roofs around the cemetery. At least twenty sentries distributed evenly were keeping watch in the only area he though there would not be any influence of this church.

Because of the fight he lost sight of the three men but now he knew where to find them. There were seven mausoleums big enough for them to enter comfortably; three of them out of range for them to disappear in the time he fought.

If he was going to investigate the cemetery and look for the three men, he had to do it tonight. When they found the sentry’s body security would increase significantly. Taking a mental note of all the sentries Eigil began to plot a route that would take him to these locations without being seen. Doing this with twenty guards overlooking the area was impossible, with sixteen however, he could do it.

It took him the better part of an hour but he was able to silently take down another four guards. Knowing what he was facing and being able to snap the trap instead of reacting had helped him maintain his presence unnoticed. All the guards were men in their late teens with some training in combat; most likely those members of the mercenary group that were not ready for actual combat.

With the way clear Eigil entered the cemetery with his needles at hand and his face covered with the cloak of one of the sentries. He followed the path he had scouted but still maintained his head low and stayed close to cover when possible.

The first mausoleum was empty; not only there was no one inside but all the contents had been looted, not even the bones remained. By the look of the structure this had been the resting place of a powerful family; had this church taken away and exiled the dead along with the living or were they planning to use this place for something else?

This could be helpful to drive the people away from the church.

Trying to keep his focus on the task at hand Eigil shoved these ideas from his mind for now and continued towards the second structure.

He knew this was the correct one from a distance. The cold silence that covered most of the cemetery was taken out by the murmur of conversation coming from the stone structure.

It looked different from the one before; it was much older but well kept. The architecture and material told him this could be one of the oldest in the city maybe even the whole country. With time the noble families that constructed such structures for their dead went from stone to marble and with it the complexity and extravagance just increased.

This structure had suffered from the erosion of the costal winds but still stood solid and imposing after almost a millennium. It was not massive by any means; it was probably the smallest of the seven he had selected at around seven by three meters.

The dark rock from which it was build showed small clues of the faint carvings that once covered the outer area. The doors were not the original ones; these looked new, the wood still glossy at parts and almost no rust visible in the iron. Time would have damaged any wooden or metal parts left to the elements. They could not be more than five years old.

When Eigil reached the only entrance to the building, he approached the dark locked entrance and tried to peer inside. There were no cracks or holes, however, under the door he could see a dim light far inside but not much more detail.

Hearing the voices were deeper into the structure and there was no change in the light source Eigil decided to enter the building.

Getting closer to the door frame he took out one of the ink bottles he had been caring. Some of them had ink in them; the others, like this one, had different substances that could be disguised as ink. He placed some drops of dark grease into the door hinges and spread them carefully trying to avoid any kind of noise when he opened the door.

He waited until he heard the conversation inside the building was a stable mumbling before opening the door a few centimetres and looked inside.