Chapter 1
Harlan sat silently in his chair, stunned by the information he had just been given. Anger, disbelief, and shock battled for precedence of his emotions.
"You're sure?" he said, his hands clasped tightly together over his desk.
"I wish I wasn't," said the man standing in front of it. The man was tall and lean, like Harlan, and had raven-black hair, also like Harlan (although the man's hair was straight and reached his shoulders whereas Harlan had short curls). He wore plain clothes and a dark face which now showed deep concern. "The maid spoke truth, as well as the evidence she gave."
The man produced a bundle of fabric, and unraveled it to reveal that it was an expensive green dress. It would have been perfect if not for a small tear in the back, with a large bloodstain surrounding it. "She had been hoping to sell the material."
Harlan stood and examined the dress. It still smelt of the seawater his mother's corpse had been retrieved from. "And they told us she died by the fall. What fools we are." He hung his head and ran his hand over the hole in the material.
Silence fell for a moment. Both of the men had been too deeply affected by her death, and both knew it. But only one of them was her son.
The man spoke. "Perhaps we should discuss this later..."
"No"
Harlan had had his eyes closed, but now they were focused and alert. His voice was low and menacing, and he was grinding his teeth together in deep thought. The dress fell from his hands and rested on the desk gracefully. He sat.
"There are four people I need to speak to," Again his voice was low, but he was calm and calculated. "The fisherman who found her lives in Darrow, I believe. He might have more information than I previously guessed. Same goes for the maid. Have her see me at the Range."
The man raised an eyebrow. "Intimidation?"
"If I need to," Harlan produced a few wooden arrows with iron points. He began to sharpen them.
"I'll send for the maid, and I can reach Darrow before nightfall," said the man. "What of the other two?"
"The other two might be a bit harder to produce," said Harlan as he placed the arrows in the shape of his own sigil on the dress. "They don't like to be summoned by their younger brother."
The man looked surprised. "I know they deserve to know, but shouldn't we finish the investigation beforehand?"
Harlan shook his head. "I won't tell them of my suspicions, but a son should know of their mother's murder." His voice had returned to its earlier menace.
The man nodded. "Very well. But I ask that you at least consider taking some time to grieve. I know how important this is to you."
"Too few of my questions have been answered, Jared." Harlan had stood again, striding across the room to the wooden bow in the corner. "And you're right. This is important to me." He picked up the bow, took a minute to appreciate its craftsmanship as usual, then returned to his desk. "Go. I'll be practicing."
Jared smiled. "You know I'll always be better."
Harlan smiled too, though his seemed forced, and sad. "As long as you keep cheating."
As Jared left, Harlan picked up the arrows from off the dress. He turned to leave then hesitated. He looked at the hole in the material again, then the arrow. He placed the arrowhead on the tear, and narrowed his eyes as the point fit perfectly in the space.
Harlan grinded his teeth together again, thinking hard. His mother was not only killed, but killed by an archer with a House Hunter arrow. Who would do this? Could it possibly be as bad as he suspected?
Harlan picked up the bow and arrows and left hastily. He had things he needed to think on and only one place to think about them.
