Treason, p.32
Treason, page 32
part #1 of Treason and Truth Series
The evening arrived quickly. They were all at their allotted posts and were all on a knife-edge of expectation. So much could go wrong. They had to track Gad this time. This time? It was the first time they’d had him in their sights. After a year of searching, they were finally able to start trapping him. Were they right to wait and see? Were they right to leave him free for a little longer? Alcis knew that they needed to catch the people above him but was this the right way?
As it turned out, Leech couldn’t hear anything said and he cursed himself for it. The bar was one open room with a few tables littered around and walls to lean against. Leech picked a spot of wall not too far from the bar and not too far from the merchant Hob Fullerton and Gad. Between him and the pair came two older merchants, who shouted at each other. Leech watched for an appropriate moment to move without it being too obvious, but Fullerton’s meeting with Gad was brief. They were deep in discussion for around eighteen minutes. Leech for the first time wished that he was able to lip read. Frustration didn’t cover it. Gad left without obvious warning. That also surprised Leech. The night before it had been Fullerton who had left first. He just had to hope that the men outside weren’t fazed. Fullerton stayed in the bar for some time. The only person who spoke to him was a well-known Oedranian merchant, who seemed to want to commiserate with him because of the deaf merchants. Leech did pick up on one interesting piece of information from their talk, but it didn’t have any impact on the more pressing matter in hand.
Outside, the men had picked up Gad’s trail and were surprised to find later that they, themselves, hadn’t been followed. They’d been expecting something to happen, whether on the way to Gad’s lodgings or when they got there, but nothing had. Two men stayed to keep an eye on the building once they had ascertained that there was only one way in and out. Despite all speculation, he was living in a normal lodging house in the city. The scryer pulled out of the observation.
They trailed Hob Fullerton to a house in the Administrative Quarter. No-one else followed him. That discomforted Wynfeld’s men. Surely Gad’s paymasters would have made sure that anyone he’d been in contact with was followed to make sure he wasn’t in the pay of someone else. Or were his paymasters so certain of his loyalty to them and his abilities to hide that they had overlooked this simple precaution? Wynfeld, when he was told, accepted that they had. He posted two men to keep a watch on Fullerton.
Wynfeld finally rolled into bed knowing that there was nothing more they could do. They knew where Gad was living, they knew where Fullerton had lodgings and both men were under constant surveillance. He finally felt like they were getting somewhere.
Chapter 55
DIFFERENT PERSPECTIVES
Cisadai, Week 21 – 2nd Seral, 16th Meithis 1210
Inner Office
HAVING WRITTEN UP the previous evening’s work, Wynfeld took the report with the usual morning briefing to the Palace. He wasn’t surprised when Richardson informed him that his King wanted a word.
Feeling the tingle of anticipation, he entered the Inner Office. It was knowing he was in that room. He had never dreamed he’d ever see it. His King’s gaze scrutinised him and he acknowledged that some of the tingle might be fear.
“I’m hoping your gamble paid off, Captain.”
“It seems to have done so, Sire. We know where Gad is staying…”
As Wynfeld explained, he watched his King’s face and later couldn’t say exactly when it changed to annoyance. The change was subtle but, by the end of his recitation, Wynfeld knew he wasn’t going to receive a polite thank you.
“Why was Leech alone in the bar?”
“Pure necessity, Sire. The innkeeper is sharp and he can spot men of the militia. He thinks we cause trouble.”
Adeone steepled his fingers. “I don’t care if he doesn’t like it. I gave you permission to make sure your men don’t look and act like men of the militia. Are you telling me that was for nothing?”
“No, sir. I’m saying that the innkeeper kicking up a fuss, had he spotted more of my men, would have scared Gad off and we’d have lost him. My priority was finding out where Gad’s living—”
“Quite; however, by only having one man in the inn, you lost a valuable amount of information. Had you had more than one, then there’s a chance that something could have been overheard. Do you know who the merchants are who prevented Leech from listening? Do you know if they were specifically there so you didn’t hear anything? Do you have anyone in your regiment who is skilled in lip-reading?”
Wynfeld considered. “I’ll make it a priority to find someone if we haven’t, Sire.”
“Good. I am glad you know where Gad is; however, Captain, I did expect more from your men. It’s one thing to know where a traitor is, a far different thing to know what he’s plotting.”
“We will find out, Sire.”
“You had better do so before I or someone I love is attacked again. You have made sweeping changes but I want to see more results. Last night wasn’t as successful as I anticipated.”
Wynfeld’s heart plummeted. “If I or my men have failed Your Majesty, I can but apologise, my king.”
Adeone regarded him levelly. “Is that all you can do, Wynfeld?”
“If you require it, sir, I will also resign.”
“Not today. That’s all.”
* * *
Wynfeld left the Inner Office understanding his King’s opinion and feeling a failure. He walked through the Audience Chamber not noticing the details he’d delighted in before. The King’s Corridor, with its painted columns, stained glass and gilding, did nothing for his mood and he still felt drained walking down the Golden Stairs with their elaborate, gilded tracery. He passed the entrances to the Court, and the opulence began to break into his contemplation. He appreciated how different the building was from the utilitarian barracks.
He’d just passed the last door to Court when it opened and a voice said, “Captain, how are you?”
He turned back, distracted. “Fine, Advisor Rayburn—”
“Come and talk for six minutes.”
Wynfeld glanced at the door to Court. “Probably best not to, Advisor, but thank you.”
Rayburn chuckled. “Not there.” He led the way to his office and waved to a chair, passing Wynfeld a drink. “From all I’ve heard, you’ve been busy since you were last here. What’s caught your thoughts today?”
Wynfeld put his drink on the edge of the desk. He started explaining trying not to let his emotions come into play, for he wanted Rayburn’s honest view of the situation.
The advisor listened carefully, considered for a few moments before saying, “The King hasn’t asked for your resignation, Wynfeld. If he wanted it, he would tell you; therefore, he wants something else from you. What?”
Perplexed, Wynfeld said, “I keep messing up, Advisor. Not small catastrophes either.”
“Not massive ones. The guards of King Alvern had a catastrophic failure – mind you, they were also bribed but hindsight is wonderful. You’ve not been bribed, have you?”
“Not that I’ve noticed, sir.”
Rayburn chuckled. “Good. Think, Captain, what could the King want, given your record?”
Wynfeld leant forward, hands clasped. After a time, he groaned. “I don’t know, Advisor. The only thing I can think is he wants me to stop making mistakes, but that’s far too obvious.”
“Maybe not as obvious as you think. Certainly not in Oedran. Mistakes and accidents happen, it’s not that they happen that’s important. In King Adeone’s service, it’s how one reacts to them that is crucial. Yes, in King Altarius’ day you’d have been better resigning. King Adeone sees something in you, Captain. I suggest you catch Gad, continue doing your best and then see what happens.”
“Last night wasn’t my best, was it?”
Rayburn shrugged. “You weren’t to know that two deaf merchants would cause havoc. Have you learned from it?”
“Bit hard not to, in the circumstances.”
“Then, I doubt you’ll make that mistake again and, if there’s one thing for certain, it’s that the King doesn’t forgive the same mistake made more than once. Whatever it feels like now, no-one died. As mistakes go, there were worse available. Just pick up the pieces with the competence we’ve all come to respect in you.” He noticed Wynfeld’s surprise and chuckled. “Did the General ever haul you over the coals about your reforms?”
“Erm, no, sir.”
“Did the Major ever pull you up?”
Wynfeld considered. “He told me not to get too used to officer fare.”
“He tells that to all new officers. Your talents for seeing through situations, for taking appropriate action are noted, Captain. You’ve handled yourself diplomatically at Court; Ryson still chuckles about the fact you need orders to cause trouble. Just pick up the pieces from last night and continue to the best of your ability. Don’t let the doubts destroy the successes. You’ve found Gad. Now catch him.”
* * *
By the time he left the Palace at Stable Gate, Wynfeld was formulating plans to find lip readers and deciding who would go and talk to the deaf merchants – to determine whether it was chance that they’d been at the Woolsack Inn. His gut instinct said that it was, but it was clear his King wanted more certainty than that.
He acknowledged the salutes of the guards on the barracks’ gates and walked along the flagged paths. The buildings in the barracks were all stone built with ashlar and their uses carved into the door lintels. What did that say about military ways? They were set in stone and couldn’t change?
On entering his office in the administrative block, he closed the door carefully and saluted. “Lord Landis. I hope Corporal Drave has offered you refreshment.”
“Yes. Sit down.”
Landis didn’t have the set of a man about to heap praise on someone. Rayburn’s reassurance was a faded memory just seeing him.
Landis didn’t mince words. “You’re a bloody fool, Captain. You’re damned lucky that the two men you put onto Gad aren’t dead. They’ve been attacked, knocked out from behind.”
Wynfeld whitened. “I’ve told His Majesty we have that man under observation! Sicla, death and damnation! What in Sicla’s Cavern were they doing? Looking in the other direction?” His thought spiralled out of control, ‘You just had to tell me yourself! Rayburn… Did Rayburn warn… No, there wasn’t time but how…’
Landis replied calmly, “They’d hardly have stared someone in the face as they were knocked out from behind.”
“Bollocks to being facetious, my lord. Alcis, what kind of fools are in this regiment? No, never mind what fools they are, they can wait. How do you know this before my men have informed me?” ‘No, don’t tell me – you scried it.’
“I had my men follow yours and then had them keep so far back they might as well not have been there. It’s bloody lucky I did, Wynfeld. Never get two men who are so obviously military casing the house of a known traitor. Our friend spotted them at dawn and has changed lodgings. Luckily, he accepted the help of two street sweepers when they saw him struggling with a box and, in case he should be suspicious when they start sweeping his new street, I’ve got other men watching him. You might be glad to know I do not plan to bring all this to the attention of His Majesty.” ‘Mainly as my men are completely fictitious in the first instance, although not anymore.’
Wynfeld collapse into his chair. “Thank you, my lord. Are my men all right?” ‘And now I owe you a debt. How will you call it in?’
“They should be back on their very military feet soon. I suggest you use them as heavies and not observers. Hob Fullerton and Gad are meeting again tonight, same place. I’d suggest you trust Beaver in person. In fact, let him take charge this evening.”
“Anything else, my lord?” asked Wynfeld, his thoughts still spiralling. ‘Why Beaver? Are you going to suggest I’m replaced? Or are you merely going to replace me when you know there’s someone who can take over?’
“Just remember, this problem could have happened on any job, it is merely unfortunate that it happened on this one.”
Wynfeld sighed. “Thank you, my lord. I’ll try to pick up the pieces.”
“Someone’s got to. It wasn’t too big a mess anyway. Beaver should do a good job. Here’s Gad’s new address.” Landis left thinking, ‘If I have my way, you won’t always be in charge of this regiment.’
Chapter 56
BEAVER
Late Morning
Wynfeld’s Office
THE GRIT OF DESPAIR rolled with Wynfeld’s emotions in a mill, grinding hope and optimism to dust in the wind. Landis’ visit, after his King’s displeasure, had crushed any confidence that Rayburn had given him. It was only a matter of time before he was posted or demoted. One blunder and he’d be out. They’d almost lost Gad when they’d finally found him, and his King had been unhappy with him before that. He oversaw the regiment, the effectiveness of his men and they were failing. He must take responsibility. Around him were only ruins of Fitz’s hard-won success. His King needed someone more competent to protect him. He called the duty sergeants together and handed over command for the evening’s operation to Beaver, trying to hide his despondency and the fact he noticed the raised eyebrows. The whole barracks must have noted Landis’ visit and know he was doomed.
Beaver told his fellow sergeants to be ready for a briefing in half an hour. When alone with Wynfeld, he said, “I don’t feel confident enough for this, sir.”
“Doesn’t matter. You’re in charge,” replied Wynfeld tiredly. “Get on with the job. We can’t afford another failure. I won’t attend the briefing.”
Worried, Beaver left. Landis’ visits normally created focus in the captain, not despondency.
* * *
At the briefing later that day, Beaver said, “Right, if you think Gad is going to tamely sit there and talk treason all night, you can rethink your bloody positions in this regiment. He’s not going to be that grass green, and neither are you. I don’t want any excuses if things go wrong tonight like they did this morning. I want to hear that Gad doesn’t know we exist. What’s more, lads, the captain won’t stand for twaddle either. We want to prove to the King that he’s taught us tricks we didn’t know before he got here. Otherwise, our next few years mightn’t be so comfortable and sure of promotion. Got that? We’re doing this for the captain as much as the King.”
There was a chorus of affirmatives, but one voice had to ask, “Captain being sacked then?”
Beaver glared at the enquirer. “Not to my knowledge, but can any of us be sure that if we fail, he won’t resign?”
Even the enquirer glumly admitted that they couldn’t. They left the barracks in ones and twos with a new determination.
* * *
Beaver entered the inn and glanced around. Gad wasn’t there, but his own merchant contact was and had struck up a conversation with another of his kind. He walked over to the table and greeted his contact. Merchant Reddy introduced him, luckily by a pseudonym, to, of all people, Hob Fullerton from Garth. A merchant in the finer things of life: silks to spices, gems to goblets and beyond. Feigning disinterest Beaver, with half his face averted, nodded to Fullerton and then caught the eye of the barman.
Banging a half-full jug of ale and a tankard down on the table, he snapped, “You pay now here. If you don’t like it, you can skedaddle. I cater for merchants, not your sort.”
Seeing Beaver didn’t want to talk to his new acquaintance Merchant Reddy excused himself to Fullerton, as soon as the barman left, and turned to the sergeant. “What’s upset you?”
“One of those days. How was your trip to Garth?”
Merchant Reddy shrugged. “Good enough, as I was just telling Fullerton here. He’s from there. It’s a beautiful city. You should visit it at some point. Stop living your life in Oedran.”
“Oedran’s been fine for me and mine for many a year. You know what you’re getting here. Can’t stand foreign parts.”
The merchant merely raised an eyebrow. “One day you might find yourself elsewhere other than in our beautiful, if contradictory, city.”
“However, until then, I’ll buy you a drink and listen to your stories. Get robbed by bandits?”
“You know not everywhere outside these walls is inhospitable. Even the army knows that, surely? Bandits had disappeared by the time I came back. Tell you one thing, though, with Lord Scanlon there I’m not surprised they went to ground. I would have done, had I been of the criminal fraternity. He’s not a man to cross; I’ll say that much for him. Could do with him in Oedran more. Crime would be down. Can’t walk the streets at night, these days.”
“Could we ever? It was only Prince Lachlan who set up the yeomen.”
“Yes, but they were doing a good job when he set them up. They’ve got slack. So, what news have you for me?” enquired Reddy.
“Not much. Oedran is as ever Oedran. I was expecting to be happily sitting here for hours listening to you.”
“I can oblige if you’re not going to offer the entertainment.”
Beaver grinned and topped up the merchant’s tankard as Gad approached Fullerton and greeted him with whispered words, which stayed private. Suddenly, there was a slight scuffle and the beginnings of a fight by someone who didn’t know how to. A knife blade flashed. Beaver’s companion glanced at the disturbance, jumping up.
In a furious voice, he said, “That’s what I’m on about. That! There! The fact a decent man can’t have a quiet evening drink in this city without some bloody fool deciding he wants to disturb everyone’s peace. Great Alcis what on Erinna do you think you’re doing? Yes, you there…” he demanded in a peremptory voice of Gad.
Beaver had to make a split-second decision; it would be suspicious if he didn’t respond; it would also be odd if he looked up too withdrawn and incurious; so he plumped for the half-frightened stance. “Leave ‘em to it, Red. It’s only a dispute. Don’t get involved.”
