Nature Abhors a Vacuum

  Chapter Eight

  The Gentlemen's Club was located in the north-east of the town, above the North Shore Trading Company's offices in one of the larger houses. Ronald Bartlett was apparently the wealthiest man in town, and it wasn't much of a stretch to assume he’d set up the club for his rich friends to compliment each other on being rich.

  It was a brief stroll to the very elegant manor house with a well-tended garden and an imposing metal fence. The gates were open, and a sign declared this the offices of the North Shore Trading Company, open for business. Three expensively dressed men were leaving the house, talking amongst themselves as they walked.

  “Well, let's head inside and see what we can learn shall we?” Aiden said, looking up at the building before them.

  “I'm wondering how you're going to go about this,” Pacian asked hesitantly.

  “I was going to head in and ask Mister Bartlett a few questions about any deals he's done with mercenary companies lately,” Aiden explained slowly.

  “You mean... be honest?”

  “Mostly, yes,” Aiden replied dubiously. “I have a little diversion in mind though. What are you getting at?”

  “If I may be so bold as to make a suggestion?” Pacian asked delicately. “Lie. A lot. If this bloke is indeed involved somehow, then he's not going to be straight with you. Confronting him directly isn't going to get us the answers we need, so yeah. Lie.”

  “I wasn't exactly planning to stride in there and point my finger at the man, accusing him of treason,” Aiden replied with a raised eyebrow. “But I'll take your advice into consideration.”

  Aiden walked along the short path that ran through the front gate, and past a water fountain with a fish carved from stone on top of a small column. The fresh water gave Aiden an idea. He reached into his belt pouch and pulled out a piece of cloth, then leaned over and dipped it into the water.

  Then he reached over and started dabbing the wet cloth on Sayana's face, attempting to remove the smudges of dirt that seemed to be ever-present on the wild girl's features. She pulled back against him reflexively, not sure what he was doing.

  “Hold still,” Aiden muttered, “I'm just going to make you a little more presentable.”

  “Why?”

  “Women of society don’t walk around with smudges of dirt on their…” He was caught off guard by something odd. While wiping her right cheek he'd brushed her hair back past her ear and discovered the top if it was pointed. Her eyes met his and he could practically see that she was begging him to keep quiet about this discovery.

  “There, much better,” Aiden murmured, putting away the cloth and nodding approvingly while trying to ignore what he'd just seen.

  “I still don't understand why you need her in there,” Pacian drawled. “Unless you want to irritate them of course, then it makes perfect sense.”

  “Hey, you wanted me to lie,” Aiden winked back at him. Behind his calm features, his mind whirled around at the implications of Sayana's ears. Pointed ears were a hallmark of the elven people, rare in Aielund, as their homeland was a long way to the west and they weren't known for travelling.

  Although her green eyes were large and slightly almond-shaped, she didn't have the sharp, angular features or the height attributed to elves, which led Aiden to believe she was half-elf, born from a parent of each race, which was even rarer. He wanted to spend some time speaking with her about this, but like every other mystery about the young woman, it would have to wait until later.

  They walked the short pathway to the large oaken door. Aiden turned the handle and stepped into a magnificent entryway surpassing even the mayor's opulent office. Paintings of stuffy-looking gentlemen hung on every wall, as well as a few smaller pictures of sailing vessels.

  An elaborate chandelier suspended from the ceiling cast subtle light around the room. A roaring fireplace kept the chill winter air at bay, warmth that was more than welcome to the travellers. At a small desk near the front of the room sat a slim, well-dressed young woman, scribbling on a piece of paper.

  “Good afternoon,” she called to them, smiling. “Can I help you?”

  “No, we’re fine thanks,” Aiden replied, returning the smile as he strode past the desk.

  “I'm sorry, but that area is for members only,” she called in mild alarm.

  “Members have keys, yes?” Aiden inquired as he took the silver keychain out of his pocket.

  “I… yes, of course,” the woman conceded, appearing to be at a loss for words after the appearance of the key. Aiden gave her a reassuring wink, then stepped through the arch with the others in tow. An ornate door loomed before them with a silver lock on it. Aiden unlocked it and upon opening, he could see a narrow staircase winding upwards to the first floor.

  “Alright,” Aiden said quietly, “Sayana, try not to look too dangerous. I'll handle the talking, the rest of you keep an eye out for anything strange.” They nodded in reply, and then followed Aiden as he made his way up the staircase.

  The sounds of hushed voices grew in volume as they ascended, along with the distinct aroma of pipe smoke. By the time they had reached the next floor, the air was noticeably warmer and heavily laden with a smoky haze. The room they entered was dimly lit by a few small windows and some carefully placed lamps.

  There were eight middle-aged men were in the room, most of them sitting in plush, oversized chairs, puffing pipes and reading books. An older man in expensive clothes and sporting a well-groomed grey beard noticed the newcomers and made his way over to greet them. His features were lined with age, but still fair. Aiden could tell a working man by the rough texture of his skin, and this individual’s smooth hands indicated he was clearly used to having others do his work.

  “This area is restricted to members only,” he said in cultured voice. “You will have to leave at once, or I shall have you removed.”

  “Well, as it happens, I am a member,” Aiden responded. He produced the silver key and quietly enjoyed the look of confusion on the man's face.

  “Oh, I see. Strange, I do not recall admitting any new members lately.” He gave Aiden an appraising look and did not appear impressed by what he saw.

  “I didn't join through you, sir,” Aiden attempted to explain, making it up as he went along. “The mayor is an old family friend of mine and thought I might like to rest my heels in a more appropriate setting on my time away from Fairloch, instead of the local ale house.”

  “Is that so? Then you are welcome, sir, to our little home away from home, such as it is. I am Ronald Bartlett, owner of the North Shore Trading Company. May I know your names?”

  “Certainly sir,” Aiden replied with a slight bow, secretly pleased they had found their man. “Aiden Wainwright, at your service. These are my local contacts, and I hope I was not out of line bringing them along.” He gestured at Pacian and the others.

  “Ah, local members of the Royal Rangers I see,” Bartlett observed, the faintest hint of a disapproving frown evident on his brow. “Not the sort of people we usually have as guests here at the Club. And what's this, a woman? Aiden, you should know we do not permit women in here.” He had raised his voice while speaking, silencing the rest of the conversation in the room and drawing the attention of everyone to them. A few murmurs of disapproval could be heard from the stuffy old men peering at Sayana in shock.

  “Come along now, don't be rude,” Aiden admonished them. “I had thought that a gentleman's club would be a club of gentlemen, not a bunch of prudish louts. This lady is my cousin, newly arrived to this part of the world and I wanted to introduce her to some of the local gentlemen of influence. Had I known you would be so unabashedly rude in her presence, I would have taken her to the local tavern rather than subject her to this uncouth display. I had thought the men of this town to be better than the dregs who populate that degenerate hovel, though perhaps I was mistaken?”

  The effect of Aiden's speech was immediate – the men in the club appeared to be suitably chastened,
lowering their eyes and returning to their quiet conversations. Bartlett had turned a bright red colour, and he cleared his throat several times before speaking.

  “My apologies, madam,” he finally managed to say. “Although it is our custom to forbid women in this austere room, the rule was never intended to impugn upstanding members of society such as yourself. Generally, we use this place to get away from our wives and the stresses of our work for a time, and so I once more offer my sincere apologies for lumping you in with them in our exclusionary policy.”

  “I understand, and it's quite alright,” Sayana said, surprising Aiden, who was about to speak for her. “I'll just hang here at the back to avoid disturbing you all further during our visit.”

  “We won't stay long, Mister Bartlett,” Aiden assured him. “I have other matters that need attending. But just before we relax and enjoy some liquid refreshment, might I enquire about something?”

  “By all means,” Bartlett replied, evidently eager to make amends for his treatment of a noble lady. Aiden fetched the note from his left coat pocket.

  “An acquaintance of mine found this note recently, and she was puzzled as to whom this was written by. Perhaps you can make something of it?” He handed the note to Bartlett, who accepted it and quickly read its message. “Rather mysterious, don't you agree?” Aiden added, keenly observing his face for any sign of a reaction. “There, at the bottom, you can see the initials 'R.B.'” Bartlett's eyes narrowed slightly as he finished the note.

  “A mystery indeed, Mister Wainwright. Tell me, why did you wish me to see this?”

  “You're a man of great renown,” Aiden offered respectfully. “If anyone could shed some light on this problem, it's you.” Bartlett didn't react to the obvious compliment for a few moments as he looked at Aiden with what could only be described as suspicion.

  “Let me make one thing clear, Aiden,” he said crisply. “I can't abide toadies, or 'yes-men'. Can't stand them.”

  “Of course, sir,” Aiden apologised, knowing he'd pushed his lie a little too far.

  “I'm sorry I can't help you with the origins of this note, but why don't you speak with my head of security? He may be able to offer some suggestions.” Bartlett pointed to a man standing on the other side of the room, near the fireplace who was stoically observing the conversation from a distance.

  “Excellent, I'll see what he can make of it,” Aiden said, offering his hand. “Thank you for your time, Mister Bartlett. It's been an honour meeting you, despite our rocky start.”

  “The honour is mine sir, and again, my apologies,” Bartlett replied, shaking the proffered hand firmly. Aiden stepped past and gestured for the others to follow him, hiding his disappointment that Bartlett didn't seem to know anything about the note.

  The gentlemen of the club seemed to have found other, more important things to be looking at as Aiden and the others walked past them, smoking their pipes furiously or engaged in deep conversations with their contemporaries. However, the man they were walking towards didn't seem at all embarrassed.

  He casually leaned against the mantelpiece, watching their approach with an intensity that belied his relaxed demeanour. He was smoking a cigar, not a pipe, and his build suggested that unlike the rest of the men present, he was used to physical labour.

  “Watch out for this one,” Colt whispered to Aiden as they moved closer. “He's trouble.” Aiden didn't have time to reply before he stood in front of the man, but he understood what Colt was trying to say.

  “Hell of an entrance you made there, friend,” the head of Bartlett's security said in a voice made husky from smoking, his sharp blue eyes evaluating the small group. “And a clever way to distract them from asking how you really ended up with that key.” Aiden smiled vapidly at him and hesitated. Colt was right to counsel caution. This one was sharp.

  “I don't know what you mean, it's all quite legitimate,” he replied lightly, trying not to show his worry that this man seemed to have him all figured out.

  “Sure it is,” the man replied, “and if that girl is from a noble house, then I'm the King of Aielund. Relax, I'm not going to say anything,” he added with a puff of his cigar. “If I thought you were any kind of danger I'd have thrown you out of here the minute you came in. Frankly I think these gentlemen needed a little nudge to remind them that not all women are like their horrible wives, especially you, madam,” he said, giving Sayana a knowing smile. To Aiden's surprise, she blushed bright red and retreated behind Colt, who crossed his arms and did his best to loom as large as possible.

  “You seem to know what's going on around here,” Aiden said cautiously, dropping any pretence of being a visitor from Fairloch. “Name’s Aiden, and yours is?”

  “Robert Black,” he replied, “and yes, I do. Now, Ronald asked you to speak with me. What is it?” Aiden was almost caught off guard by the sudden realisation that Robert's initials were 'R.B.' as well. He handed the note over and watched Robert's face for any hint of recognition. His facial expression didn't change at all as he read the message.

  “Where did you get this?” he asked bluntly a few moments later.

  “From a group of men digging their way under the crypt outside of the church,” Aiden supplied, seeing no reason to withhold the information. “They met an unfortunate end, undoubtedly due to their incompetent excavation techniques,” he added, and saw with satisfaction that Robert flinched slightly at the news. He had found out who 'R.B.' was.

  “Looks like you've stumbled onto a grave security situation here,” Robert advised, without a hint as to his true feelings on the matter. “This might have ramifications to my duties, so I’d better go speak with my people.”

  “That might be a good idea,” Aiden agreed cautiously. Aside from that flinch, he had nothing else to go on and began to second-guess himself. Robert stubbed out his cigar on an ashtray, and then extended his right hand, which Aiden took.

  “You've done well, bringing this information to me,” Robert said. “I'm going to look into it, and then I'll make sure you get what you deserve.” Without further word, he stepped forward briskly and moved past them towards the door. Colt gave him a shove with his shoulder as Robert went past, drawing a dispassionate glare from the man as he continued on.

  “That's got to be our man,” Aiden muttered. “Did you see the way he reacted?

  “That was the look of someone who just had his plans ruined,” Pacian agreed. “Do you think it was his men down in that tunnel?”

  “No doubt,” Colt grunted. “But here's an important question - Bartlett just followed him down the stairs. Are we going to grab him or what?”

  “Bartlett left too?” Aiden asked nobody in particular, peering over to see that the man had indeed vacated the room. “He might be in on it after all. We’d better take them to Sergeant Ariel.”

  Without discussing it further, they quickly moved through the smoky room and hurried down the stairs. But by the time they had reached the ground floor, there was no sign of either of them. The front door was slightly ajar, however, and the secretary had an astonished look on her face.

  “Goodness me, that was strange,” she exclaimed before noticing Aiden and the others peering around the corner. “What on earth did you say to them?”

  “Did Mister Bartlett follow the other man out that door?” Aiden queried, knowing the answer but wanting confirmation.

  “Yes, practically running out of here,” the secretary breathed. “The other one was that Robert fellow who talks with Mister Bartlett all the time.”

  “They talk often do they?” Aiden pressed. “Do you know what about?”

  “Here now, what's all this about anyway?” she asked imperiously. “If you've done something to upset him, I should warn you that Mister Bartlett is a powerful man in this town and he can make things very difficult for you and your associates.” Pacian stepped forward to answer this one. Aiden had good reason to believe he wasn't going to be entirely truthful to the lady.

 
“Madam, the Royal Rangers have important, legal business with your employer, and you would do well to co-operate with us,” he bluffed. Aiden wasn't sure about the secretary, but if he didn't know better, he would have been convinced. While Pacian continued talking, Aiden glanced around outside to see if there was any sign of the two men, but as he suspected, they had disappeared into the crowd.

  “He's not in trouble is he?” the secretary asked anxiously. “I'm sorry but I really need this job.”

  “Don't worry,” Pacian assured her. “I won't tell anyone the information came from you.” That seemed to satisfy the woman, who relaxed a little.

  “I don't know what they talk about exactly,” she explained, “But I do know from the company ledger that he's paying Mister Black a considerable sum of money. For what, I couldn't tell you.”

  “Interesting. Thank you for your time, Madam,” Pacian said. “You may hear from the Sergeant of the Guard in the near future - please co-operate with her in any way she asks.”

  “Certainly, Ranger,” she replied obediently. “Will that be all?”

  “Yes, thank you for your assistance, it is appreciated,” Pacian finished, smiling and leading the others out through the door into the cold outside air once more. He looked like he was about to say something, but Aiden shook his head and pointed down the street. Pace nodded, and let Aiden take the lead.

  “I can see why people join up with the guards,” Pacian mused, his breath misting in the cold air. “I could get used to throwing around a little authority like that.” Colt, who had been crouched down looking for any obvious tracks their two suspects might have left on the ground, stood up and towered over him threateningly.

  “If you ever impersonate a Ranger again,” he growled, “I'm going to shove that uniform down your throat.”

  “But isn't that what you're doing right now?” Pacian replied sarcastically. “There you are, wearing ranger armour after they kicked you out. Am I wrong?”

  “Hey, settle down,” Aiden ordered. “We have more important matters to discuss. Colt, back off. Pace did well to get us the information. It's not like he murdered a box of kittens to do it.”

  “This time,” Colt muttered, easing back his posture but continuing to scowl at Pacian.

  “I'm not sure I understand everything that just happened,” Sayana admitted, rubbing her hands together to keep warm.

  “I'm amazed you could follow what was going on, with all that flirting you were doing,” Pacian teased, grinning slyly.

  “I was not,” she protested, blushing profusely.

  “Look, their conduct was fairly incriminating,” Aiden interjected, “and if nothing else, they need to have a long talk with Ariel about their possible involvement.”

  “What do you think that could be though,” Sayana pressed. “I do not understand why a man like Robert would do such a thing.”

  “You really are smitten,” Pacian remarked incredulously. “He's a scumbag, plain and simple. Doesn't matter how nice he looked in those fine clothes, he's probably laughing at your naivety right now. Trust me, I know people like that.” Sayana didn't reply, but appeared sullen after being on the receiving end of Pacian's philosophical views.

  The sergeant was still dealing with paperwork when they arrived back at the barracks, and Aiden thought he detected relief on her face when they showed up.

  “I swear this pile is getting bigger, no matter how fast I work,” she muttered, casually gesturing at the mound of papers awaiting her attention. “So, how did it go with Bartlett? Did you manage to even speak with him?”

  “Getting in to see him wasn't an insurmountable problem,” Aiden assured her. “I don't think he's the one who wrote the note. He has a mercenary working for him by the name of Robert Black. Same initials, and I got a bit of a reaction out of him when I mentioned the diggers under the crypt had perished. I think he's our man.”

  “That doesn't come as a huge surprise, actually,” Ariel replied, her full attention on the matter at hand. “Black is the commander of the Steel Tigers mercenary company, so for whatever reason, he wants to circumvent Culdeny's wall for some future operation. I think I better go and bring them into custody for questioning at once.”

  “Both of them ran off as soon as they knew that we knew what they were up to,” Pacian advised. Ariel cursed loudly with a choice of words one doesn't normally hear from a lady.

  “I'll have my people keep an eye out for them,” she said after calming down a bit. “I'll set up some wanted signs to post around the town. I imagine they'd be out the gate by now, but hopefully we'll get lucky. That's about all I can do with the resources at my disposal, and I’m not about to go up against a full mercenary company to try and bring him in. Next time you go and interrogate a suspect, try sitting on them.”

  “If we see either of them in our travels, I'll be sure to bring them in,” Colt offered.

  “I appreciate all the help I can get,” Ariel said. “But I think it's likely they went to re-join the rest of the Steel Tigers – that's over a hundred heavily armed men. If you do meet them, I'd suggest running.”

  “Sound advice, Thanks sergeant,” Aiden responded. “Good luck with the rest of your investigation, we'll stop in the next time we're in town to see if there have been any developments.”

  “As you wish. Oh, Aiden, one more thing,” Ariel added as they were heading out the door. “The mayor came by a little while ago and asked if I had any spare soldiers to send down to Coldstream and Bracksford. Don't look so shocked, he may appear to be a selfish fop, but he really does the best he can, given the situation.” Aiden held his breath, hoping for good news but expecting the worst.

  “I'm sorry, I really wish we had more people, but if I send anyone down there, I have to leave something up north here unprotected,” Ariel said hesitantly. “It doesn't matter what I do, one way or another, a part of the region is going to be vulnerable. My first duty is to this town, Aiden. Maybe if my husband was here he'd have a better answer for you.”

  “Thanks again for your help, sarge, I know you’re doing your best,” Aiden conceded.

  “Why has your King taken away so many warriors?” Sayana said, unexpectedly. “What could be so important that he would risk the lives of your people like this?” Ariel looked at her impassively for a long moment, and Aiden wasn't sure she was even going to reply.

  “Ordinarily I would not even consider telling civilians,” the sergeant replied eventually. “As wife of the captain of the town guard, I am privy to a lot of information that shouldn't be disseminated amongst the public. But in this instance, your service to myself and this community means I can be more forthcoming than I otherwise would be.” Colt leaned over and closed the door, while the others took an unconscious step towards the desk where Ariel sat.

  “The King has declared war on Tulsone, our neighbouring country to the west. He didn't mention his reasons to any of us here in Culdeny, so I can't really tell you much more than that, except that there was a great deal of negotiation between our two countries for several months prior to the declaration, and this is the first time Aielund has declared war on anyone in its history.”

  “We've fought wars before,” Colt reminded her.

  “They were defensive actions, like the Battle of Fort Highmarch,” Ariel disputed. “This is the first time we've gone on the offensive, and I can't tell you why.”

  “What reasons could there be, aside from conquest?” Aiden said bleakly. “Maybe His Majesty decided his country wasn't big enough anymore, just like every other conqueror in history.”

  “I don't have any more answers for you Aiden,” Ariel offered sympathetically. “But keep what I've told you amongst yourselves. Wild public speculation isn't going to help the situation. Good luck to you all.”

  Somewhat dejected, Aiden and the others started walking back to the inn before deciding on their next move. The lack of military assistance from Culdeny for his home town left him in a bleak mood. He pondered the rema
ining options as they sat down in the common room.

  “You look a bit down,” Colt observed with rare clarity. “Your folks live in Coldstream right? I can see why that'd be a source of concern. Fortunately for you, I've got something that'll cure that right quick. I'll be back in a minute.”

  “I bet it’s beer,” Pacian remarked after Colt had disappeared amongst the crowd of sailors and other local people populating the common room.

  “And just when he was starting to sober up, too,” Aiden added. “I hope he doesn't go overboard.”

  “Who said you could sit there?” a tall man barked at them, suddenly appearing out of the throng to stand imposingly over their table. “This place is for men - I think you three are looking for the children's table.” Three of his drinking companions next to him laughed uproariously at this witty remark. Their casual attire and tanned skin hinted that they were sailors. Pacian looked blandly at Aiden, his hands slowly moving towards the dagger on his belt.

  Sayana looked up at the men dangerously, and Aiden thought he could see a glow coming from underneath her tunic. He shook his head slightly, indicating she should keep cool and Pacian should avoid creating a bloodbath over this minor incident.

  “I'm in no mood for games, so I'll say this plainly,” Aiden said to the lead man. “You want this table? You can't have it. So unless you want to see what the inside of your own arse looks like, you'll go find someone else to bother.” The wide grin from the big sailor told Aiden that was exactly what he wanted to hear. He seemed ready to start a fight, but was shoved aside a moment later by a short, broad-chested fellow with a beard that was familiar to Aiden.

  “I'm sorry to bust in on yer group like this,” Clavis MacAliese said with seeming innocence. “But I think we have some unfinished business to discuss, isn't that correct, Mister Wainwright?” Despite his diminutive stature, the appearance of the dwarf startled the surrounding men.

  “Say, don't I know you? Yer faces are awful familiar to me,” Clavis said to the sailors.

  “I don't think so, dwarf,” their lead man replied doubtfully. “And we were just leaving. C'mon lads, let's go get some more rum.” Without another word, all four of them hustled off into the crowd in search of somewhere else to be. Clavis sat himself down on an empty chair and grinned at the three companions.

  “Yer welcome,” he chuckled and took a large swig of his drink.

  “They looked like they knew you from somewhere,” Aiden observed, breathing a sigh of relief. “Somewhere painful.”

  “I may have schooled them on the sweet science,” Clavis shrugged. “It's hard to remember. Last night is still a bit of a blur to me.”

  “He didn't look like he'd been beaten into unconsciousness just last night,” Aiden remarked.

  “My friend, all his bruises are below the waist,” Clavis winked and sipped his mug of ale. Colt had the good grace to show up at the table carrying two mugs of ale at that moment.

  “Are ye going to introduce me to yer mates, Aiden?” the dwarf inquired.

  “In a moment, I'm just waiting for the final member of our group to arrive. No sense repeating myself if I don't have to. Thanks for your intervention,” he said to Clavis. “I don't think there's much I could have said to those men that wouldn't have ended up in fight.”

  “Och, ye did just fine lad,” Clavis assured him. “But I'm pressed for time and didn't want to waste it on yet another fight.”

  “Did I miss something?” Colt asked.

  “Large men making insults,” Sayana replied blandly. Colt merely grunted in reply, apparently unsurprised by the news. Clavis leaned forward to speak directly to Aiden.

  “I have to ask ye, do ya have an answer for me yet?”

  “That's what we're here to discuss,” Aiden assured him, spying Nellise appearing out of the crowd in front of the table, carrying a sack over one shoulder. “Pull up a seat Nel, I have a proposal to make.”

  “Thank you Aiden, although I trust you aren’t about to suggest marriage,” she replied with a faint smile. Pacian quickly stood, acquired a chair from a nearby table, and held it, gentleman-like, for her to sit at.

  “A business proposal,” Aiden clarified, not in the mood for light banter. “Ladies and gentlemen, this is Clavis MacAliese, adventurer and entrepreneur. Clavis, may I present Pacian Savidge, Nellise Sannemann, Sayana Arai, and... Colt.”

  “It's a pleasure to make yer acquaintance,” Clavis said, grinning at everyone. “I don't know if Aiden here has told ya, but I've a proposition to put to ye that'll be of benefit to us all, should we be successful.”

  “What kind of proposition?” Nellise asked, smiling at Pacian's manners. Clavis spent some time detailing his plans to visit Ferrumgaard, and his desire to return ancient dwarven artefacts to their new homeland. When he was done, he leaned back in his chair and enjoyed the last of his ale, patiently waiting to hear what they all thought. Pacian was the first to speak.

  “Is there likely to be lost treasure in this place?”

  “Depends how deep ya want to go,” Clavis shrugged. “The upper floors have long been picked clean by casual visitors, but the lower levels, aye the lower levels be the best place to scavenge. I won't promise ya anything lad, but ye never know what ye'll find in the halls o’ Ferrumgaard.”

  “What is your interest in this, Aiden?” Nellise asked curiously. “Clavis has been quite forthcoming about his reasons, and though they are interesting, I don't understand why that concerns you.” He shifted uncomfortably, having known this was coming but still not ready to tell them all about his motivations.

  “If there's treasure to be found down there, I could use them to hire mercenaries to defend Bracksfordshire,” he said, walking a fine line with the truth. “We're certainly not going to find help for them any other way.”

  “I suppose that makes sense. I can't say I'm terribly interested in finding lost treasures, but I could always donate my share to the church. Frankly, after the events of the last week, I was hoping for something more sedate, but I suppose in these troubled times it’s hard to avoid the dangers that abound. Besides, what would you do without me, hmm?”

  “Die horribly,” Aiden drawled.

  “I will go also,” Sayana quietly added. “I would like to see this great fallen city of which you speak, though I care little for any riches that lie within.”

  “You say that now,” Pacian scoffed, “but as soon as you lay your eyes on a diamond, you'll suddenly find you're really interested in riches.” Sayana gave him a confused look, which just made Pacian laugh out loud.

  “Before you even ask me,” Colt interrupted, “I want to point out that place is cursed, and a lot of people who go in there don't come out again. I think you're all fools for even considering it, especially you,” he said, looking at Clavis.

  “I did'na twist yer arms, lad,” he replied, chuckling. “If ya don't want to come, ya don't have to.”

  “Fine, I’m just warning you is all,” Colt grunted. “But if the ghosts of ten thousand dead dwarves suck the life from our bones, you've only got yourself to blame.”

  “Good, then it's settled,” Pacian declared, taking a swig of his drink. Nellise stood up and placed a heavy sack on the table.

  “I had a long talk with the Archioness today,” she explained wearily. “I won’t bore you with the details, but suffice it to say she said that by helping you, I'm serving the country and God, so I don't have to go back to doing menial chores around the church. Part of me was hoping she would prevent me from joining you, I must confess, for this life you all seem so comfortable with does not sit so well with me.”

  “None of us asked for this, Nel,” Aiden reminded her. “I certainly don’t go around looking for people to fight, but I hope you realise how valuable your assistance has been to us. We are helping the Kingdom, in our own small way, even if it is a little outside your field of expertise.”

  “It’s nice to hear my efforts have been appreciated,” Nellise replied with a war
m smile. “I’ll continue working with you for now, especially since I’ve gained the support of the Church.”

  “What's in the sack?” Pacian asked curiously, poking it with one finger.

  “Medicines, tinctures, unguents and potions,” she explained in grand fashion. “Courtesy of the Church of Aielund. Should we run into any difficulty - and our track record suggests we will – these will help keep us healthy, free of disease and able to perform to our potential. I'll take this upstairs, and then I have a few errands to run before we head out.”

  “There's no rush,” Aiden said, ignoring the look he received from Clavis. “It's too late to leave now anyway, so I was thinking we could start out early tomorrow morning.”

  “That's all well,” Nellise replied, trying to squeeze past the back of Colt's chair, “but if we're going to be heading into harm’s way, I want to acquire some better equipment first. Unless you can assure me we won’t be in peril?”

  “There may be peril,” Clavis admitted. “I can't guarantee it will be peril-free.”

  “Straight from the horse's mouth,” Nellise sighed, shaking her head.