VII

Officer Vai was a short woman. A short woman clad in platemail, sporting a shock of orange hair, freckles and a determined stare that brooked no nonsense. A pity she couldn't keep her subordinates in line when they were out of her sight, Sendai mulled. Without announcing herself; the badge impressed on her breast bore the Fist's sign, Jessa Vai did not apologise for her men's behaviour, but got straight to the point.

It was something Illasera could reluctantly respect.

"So let me run over the facts: a half orc coerced a tribe of kobolds to overrun the lower levels of Naskel's mines; you captured him and after his interrogation, he was put to the stake?" Vai's scepticism ran heavy, "Now you say his agent, 'Tranzig', is in residence in Beregost, and you have no evidence as to why the iron was poisoned?"

"There were letters." Sendai rejoined coolly, "and Mulahey's confession."

Slightly less dubiously, Vai considered this. "Well, I have my orders."

"And those are?"

"To assist in the arrest of Tranzig. If what you say is true, then his confession will shed further light on this, if he an agent and not a lackey. But let me make one thing clear to you: I am in charge of this operation; you follow my orders. We will arrest this fugitive. Your presence is a courtesy to Ghastkill, nothing more."

Illasera bristled; Sendai agreed, "Very well."

"By all means," her sister added acidly, "Send your men in first. Perhaps they will take him alive – if they do not fall."

Vai's eyes hardened, "Elves you may be–"

"We will work together on this. If you wish the lead, so be it." Sendai interrupted with her usual tact, "We will stand beside you."

For a moment, Vai hesitated, then nodded firmly.

Half an hour later saw the Fist form up around the inn.

"All the exits are blocked, ma'am," Jon reported.

"And inside?"

"In position; we await your command."

"Let us hope he is not a mage," Illasera commented dryly to her sister. Sendai withheld a smile, knowing the barb was at Vai and her forces.

"Operating in daylight hours reduces the risk of–"

"Let it go," Vai ordered her subordinate, "and stop citing regs. Our own mage will bar his magic."

"If not…" Illasera let her words trail off into a grim half-smile. Vai ignored her and walked inside, her gait confident and long. The elves did not so much glide as stride; Sendai's slow, measured and effortlessly graceful; her sister's brimming with strident power just waiting to be released. 'Bristling' did not describe Illasera's taut readiness; her eyes flashed, sweeping the hallway's every direction.

Crimson rugs, weathered floorboards; a vase on the windowsill, tarnished on one side, covering a neglected frame holding cloudy glass panes. The musky scent of dust mixed with the yellow flowers' aroma, the bath salts and oils from the upstairs as they ascended the stairs; the beef from the kitchen, fresh bread, herbs and spices; blood from the fowl… the slight creak of a floorboard, the stale scent of a man's pleasure…

"Form up the column, sergeant."

"Already done."

"Then lead the assault."

"Aye ma'am."

It did not take long. Tranzig was overwhelmed, the scuffle taking only seconds. Caught unaware, and quite literally napping, news of Mulahey's fall had not reached the olive-skinned man. His beard, close cut and oiled, was as black as his curled quiff, cropped short around the neck and his night-robe was fine silk and linen. The knotted rag stuffed in his mouth woke him rudely, and his flailing limbs were held down by the force of four burly men. The fifth, the gag-stuffer, yanked a hood over his head, and the man was unceremoniously bound.

"Extradition to Naskel?" Illasera asked sardonically, as Tranzig was dragged kicking, his muffled cursing more pitiful than vengeful.

"We will, of course, share all we get out of him with Ghastkill," Vai replied officiously, watching the captive, then barked, "Sergeant, search the room."

Tranzig flung his head back in dismay; the two carrying him barely let his feet touch the floor.

"We'll see what he has to say after this," Vai added darkly, as the battlemage assigned to her unit entered the chamber. His casting finished with the sergeant's oath.

"Trapped, ma'am. It's being dealt with."

Without comment, Vai gestured in the thief-taker. Some time later, the all clear was given, and two scrolls and a ledger were brought out.

Impatiently, Vai flicked through it, and disgustedly handed the tome to Sendai. The drow's lips thinned in though.

"It seems you were right," Vai begrudgingly admitted, "we've a problem on our hands. Full detail, 'round the clock. No one is to speak to the prisoner–"

"He's a mage, ma'am," The sergeant interrupted from the bedchamber, "Oli just found the spellbook."

"Damnit," the fiery haired woman hissed, "right, you'll have to break him, Jamison. I want wards in place ten minutes ago–" she turned to Sendai, "Found anything?"

The drow nodded, carefully scanning the scroll, "Davaeorn. Tazok."

"Tazok?" Vai's clear grey eyes thinned dangerously.

"You know him." It was not a question; Illasera's words were flat and just as dangerous.

"Aye, rumours. He leads the bandits – the most prominent band, and his lieutenants are almost as bad." She drew in a deep breath, "I'm afraid I may require your services. My men are too well known–"

"You dare commission us–"

"Peace, sister." Sendai murmured in elven, then addressed the human, "If we infiltrate this band for you, we will be outlaws. We are not mercenaries, commander."

"Concessions will be taken into account."

"I want assurances."

"You'll take what I give you!"

"Come, sister, let us depart."

"Wait! I… misspoke. I meant…" Vai sighed heavily, "We are cut off from our command in the Gate. We have limited resources, and messages are restricted," she gestured towards the battlemage, "to only a few words. We patrol the roads and town perimeter was best we can, but with your liberation of the mines, the bandits will fall on the caravans as soon as word spreads. I want you to hire yourselves out as caravan guards, and when the bandits ambush your convoy, offer to join them. You will be exonerated of all blame."

"And the caravan master?"

"Collateral." Vai emphasised the point, "if it comes to that. Find Tazok and assassinate him."

"What makes you think we'd agree to such a thing?" Illasera demanded.

"If coin is your motivation–"

"It's not."

"Revenge, then? Justice? The bandits have plagued the roads for months, and the infestation is only getting worse. I need the serpent's head struck off."

"Use your own people." Illasera's chill made winter look warm.

"Don't you think I've tried that already?"

"So now you seek to use us?" The fair elf half laughed, half snapped, "We're too well known; the 'saviours of Naskel'. You condemn us to death."

"I've no one else to turn to," Vai snapped back, "I'm out of options here. You've proven your competency, your information is reliable; now I need to end this threat. Will you do it?"

"In exchange for what?" Sendai asked quietly.

"What do you want?"

The officer's eyes locked with the drow's.

"Your future and continued support. Our father was murdered, and we have reason to suspect his killer is somewhere in the region."

"So that's what you're doing here." Vai barked a short laugh, "I should have known. Elves never venture out except for – well, that's unimportant. You want my backing when you find the assassin, or that we turn a blind eye?"

"Do we have an agreement, commander? If we aid you in this, you will aid us in our search."

"Very well, but tell me something, how did you get mixed up in all of this?"

"That is not your concern," Illasera cut in, "Tell us where to find this Tazok."

"His camp shifts, but we suspect his base to be somewhere in the region of Larswood. Bandits operate from everywhere, and may have a secondary camp in Cloakwood, but the forest is densely populated by all manner of creature."

"And what of Davaeron?" Sendai pressed.

"That name… I've not heard before. I will make inquiries."

"Then we have an accord." The drow looked at her sister.

"Aye," Vai answered slowly, "we have an accord. The bounty on Tazok is set at fifteen hundred gold pieces, five hundred for each of his lieutenants, and twenty for each bandit scalp you bring me." A slight pause, "I trust you won't scalp the innocent."

Frosty silence met her.

"I thought not. Fire the camp, and I'll make it an extra four hundred. I've a cache of trade bars I can barely use, but as soon as the roads are clear, they'll be worth their weight in silver. I'll give you two hundred silver for Tranzig, and a further four hundred for information leading to Davaeron. If you can put an end to this, the Gate will owe you, and the Dukes will pay handsomely. No one dares siege the Gate on my watch." She nodded brusquely, "We'll be standing by for your signal. I'll give you two tendays; after that, we'll assume you lost."

"If you think to buy us with coin–" Illasera flared.

"Done." Sendai put an end to the matter, "if you hand over Tranzig's spellbook."

"Of course. I will, as a bonus, grant you first share of the loot, though any information is mine by rights. I will share what we get out of Tranzig."

"So be it."

And so it was. Within the span of four hours, news spread of Naskel's liberation like wildfire, spread by Vai's agents that a team of mercenary Amnish scoured the mines. Within six hours, the first caravans were assembled, and the two elves hired out their services.

Word was left with Vai for Aerie and the elf to wait for the sisters' return in the inn they chose as their headquarters, if they did not meet the two along the way. They chose not to mention the bounty hunters.

Kagain was the dwarf's name, and a grouchier fellow the sisters had yet to meet. A grizzled ex-mercenary, trade bars was all he was prepared to pay. His promise of what his axe did to deserters, cowards and shirkers did not inspire either of them, but neither were they afraid. Gruffly, he drained his ale and shuffled towards his warehouse. Remnants of old wagons, some ribbed, some not, littered the edges, and half repaired, battle scarred caravans were tried and true, and able to rough the roads. These worse for wear carts seemed to boast salvaged parts and scavenged wheels, but Kagain had prepared against the day the mines reopened. He was determined to stay ahead of the competition, and as he pointed out, his wagons would not fall apart, like the plague afflicting the rest of the region.

Neither sister pointed out the source of the contamination, or their knowledge of it. Pleading desperation, they agreed to ridiculously low wages with the promise of great reward. "Iron," Kagain growled, "worth more than gold."

Before the sun set, they set off. Within their group were a couple of other foolhardy young men, hired swords clad in leathers and sporting fire-hardened spears. Kagain could have hired dozens like them, but he did not trust large convoys and took only the one wagon. When it was laden with ore, assuming they survived the journey south, he would hire Naskelites and brave the return north. He would hire more wagoners and carts in the mining town, and get ahead of the game – if the rumours were true. If they were not, there would be hell to pay. He even persuaded the Fist to escort them part way, as far as the Naskellian border.

The trip took three days. The ambush came shortly after the Fist left them. A band of twenty surrounded them, bows and crossbows alike levelled at them.