May – Chapter Three – Cold Hard Calculus
Alone at the end of a dimly lit hallway, May stood facing the floor to ceiling windows as a thunderstorm raged outside. Flash after flash of lightning lit the grey clouds as one sheet of rain after another slapped against the glass, miniature rivers streaming down the pane and distorting any view the trainer before them might have had of the outside world. Beyond the glass sat the city of Petalburg, entrenched in a thick mist brought on by the exceptionally humid storm that submerged the town in the atmosphere of a concrete swamp. Peals of thunder punctuated the constant drone of the humming insects and the driving rain while rhythmically and predictably sending tremors running through the frame of May's Petalburg Gym.
May however paid no attention to the storm raging outside her window. Leaning forward some and supporting her weight by one forearm pressed up against the glass, May bent over and stared unfocused down towards her palm, in which rested the blue orb gleaming like a fist-sized sapphire. Sweat beading on her forehead, mouth hanging open as she took slow, deep breaths, May stared down at the orb, her eyes seemingly drawn towards a point deep within or far beyond the glowing sphere. The young savant tightened her grip on the artifact, her leather gloves creaking beneath her strength as her eyes narrowed and she began breathing more quickly.
Listening as a chorus of ghostly voices whispered between her ears, a frigid dread crept into the pit of the girl's stomach, clawing its way up to her heart and intensifying the beating in her chest. Wondering if perhaps this was what losing one's mind felt like, May brought the orb higher and pressed it against her chest, over her heart, and closed her eyes. The action brought no comfort, May thought to herself, but nevertheless she cleaved to it, terrified of what would happen if she dared let it out of her sight. Taking several more deep breaths, May fought the anxiety welling up in her with the knowledge that the orb was safe in her possession and no one could take it from her. That thought, she felt, at least checked the advance of the panic festering in her heart, though she realized plainly it did nothing to set her at ease.
May gritted her teeth. "Mine," she growled, her voice tight as beads of perspiration rolled down her forehead and cheeks and dripped from the tip of her nose and her chin. A sudden weight on her shoulder sending jolts of electricity through her frame, the savant whirled around and gasped in shock, recoiling and practically falling against the glass window with a thud. Likewise recoiling from his superior's reaction to his presence, Odin twitched back and pulled his hand away as May reflexively reached to the pokeball at her belt. Holding his hands up as if to shield himself from her, Odin spoke with a measured calm and walked forward, more confidently now as May dropped her shoulder and let her hands fall to her side.
"Ma'am?" Odin asked quietly, obviously making every effort to sounds as soothing as possible. "Stupid question, I know, but how are you holding up?"
Leaning against the window and clutching the blue orb to her, May strained as though every muscle in her body ached and her face radiated no small amount of pain. "I'm fine," she answered curtly. Watching concern grow on Odin's features, May looked down at the floor and back up at him. "I'll be OK," she went on. "Just give me a few minutes more to get my head on right and I'll be back."
Pausing a moment, hesitating to answer, Odin responded slowly. "May," he said. "You've been gone an hour. People are starting to wonder."
Shock shot through May's eyes. "Odin I," she stammered, looking between her subordinate and the orb in her hand. "I'll be right in."
May stepped forward as though she meant to walk by her second-in-command, but Odin reached out and took her gently but firmly by the arm. "May," he muttered concern plain in his voice. Staring at the floor at the end of the hall, May stood without answering for a moment before the young soldier beside her continued. "You're not eating. You're not sleeping. Ever since that thing" he looked at the shining blue crystal she held, "took hold of you all you've done is slink away to stare at it and brood," Odin paused and clenched his jaw.
Looking up as her visage darkened, May slowly but without hesitation pulled her arm from his grip. "Watch your words," she said quietly. "I am your commander."
Balling his hands into fists, Odin turned to look uncomfortably down the hall before returning his full attention to May. "That and more," he answered. "That's why I'm worried. That thing, it isn't good for you. I can't just watch as it drains the life out of you."
Taking a step back, May clutched at the orb a little tighter. "We're not having this conversation again. It saved us all Odin," she answered, in her voice a combination of anger and fear. "Without it Petalburg would have-"
"Survived that storm surge," Odin interrupted, going on before May could take back control of the conversation despite the chagrin on her features. "I watched everything that happened," he spoke quickly. "And I didn't like what I saw. You flew into a full-on trance, a glassy eyed, speechless, walking-death as soon as the tsunami sirens went off. I'm not kidding May, I was scared for you." Any hint of anger in Odin's face melted into what sounded of genuine concern. "I am scared for you," he looked back down at the orb. "It's like you're half alive. You're not well and that thing," Odin stabbed his finger at the blue sphere, "is the cause and you damn well know it."
May pressed her lips together and took another step away from him. "So what would you recommend?" she barked at him. "As if I didn't know already."
"Let me take a ship," Odin answered without hesitation. "Give it to me, I'll take it a thousand miles out to sea and send it to the bottom of the ocean."
Recoiling as though she'd been struck, May shook her head. "Absolutely not," she spat as though she were seconds from screaming at him. "You'll do no such thing. Odin," she held the orb at chest level, "how can you not see we need this? It turned back a storm surge. It called all those Pokémon to the ghost ship. Who knows what else it's capable of? We can harness that and we can use it to-"
Again Odin cut May off, this time by stepping forward and grabbing her shoulders with both hands. "Whatever it's capable of, the price isn't worth it May," he blurted. "You're getting weaker by the day and, well have you looked in a mirror lately?" he asked, his tone almost pleading as he reflexively scanned her deathly pallor and sunken features. "You can't just make it go away by wearing gloves and makeup. Please," he went on. "You need to let me help you."
Pulling away from him, May sidestepped and walked a few feet by Odin, opening up and depositing the blue orb into a leather pouch on her hip. "I don't need anything, least of all insubordination," she said, looking straight ahead. "Now either follow me and don't bring this up again, or take your ship and go home," May stopped and looked over her shoulder at her second. "Which will it be?"
Shoulders dropping, Odin sighed. "I'll follow you wherever," he answered. "I'm here for you whether you like it or not."
Looking back at the sandy haired captain, May waited a moment before turning forward again and wiping the sweat from her brow. "Why do I feel I haven't heard the last of this?" she muttered, setting off down the hall with Odin in tow.
The two trainers moved silently down the corridor as the storm raged outdoors. Without speaking to one another they listened to the rain falling on the roof and made their way towards the southern end of the gym. Passing through a final doorway and into the gym's main chamber, May scanned the scene before her. Walking to the stage and the comfortable chair set up on the northern end of the sandy pit in the center of the chamber, May ascended the steps to her seat and counted the people gathered on the southern end of the pit.
Flanked by a dozen of her Rocket guards and their various Pokémon, May set herself in the chair and leaned back, sighing and overwhelmed with gladness to be sitting down. She motioned to the foremost of the thirty or so people lined up opposite the sandy pit. "Please, approach," she said, forcing herself to smile welcomingly and adopt a friendly tone. Waiting as an old man dressed in a rough tunic and breeches, his feet wrapped in strips of cloth in place of proper shoes stepped into the center of the chamber's central depression, May leaned forward in her chair. "What can I do for you?" she asked.
His wrinkled face looking from side to side and wracked with apparent fear, the old man quickly and quietly uttered a few words in a language few in the room understood. Though his dark skin hid the feature at first, as the man spoke May noted a series of dark bruises winding over his face. She also spotted the way in which he obviously favored his right side when he walked, leading the girl to wonder what recent injury prompted his manner. As the man spoke however, his words registering on May's face with growing shock, May's many guards looked at one another in confusion.
Odin, standing directly beside his commander and drawing a ledger and pen from his pack, leaned towards May's seat once the man finished speaking. "What language is he speaking?" asked the captain. "I can't understand a word he's saying."
May sighed and, before acknowledging her second-in-command, responded to the aged man in the depression, speaking in a dialect identical to his own. As she spoke, the poorly dressed plaintiff began bowing and averting his eyes from the young savant. The man and the girl exchanged a few more sentences in the odd language and he, still bowing and speaking ecstatically, bowed so low his forehead nearly brushed the floor and began stepping backwards away from the pit.
As the elderly petitioner turned and vacated the room, May turned to Odin who immediately raised his ledger, prepared to take down her instructions. "That was Hassren Oldomin, an elder from a community of refugees living here in Petalburg. He said his people were displaced by earthquakes and tsunamis along the coasts to the south and they've been living here for the last several years under the protection of Team Magma."
Odin nodded, taking down a few notes as May spoke. "And what did he want?" asked the captain.
May attempted to stifle a groan. "He said that several Team Rocket soldiers came to his home last night in pursuit of that stone-thrower who nearly brained Simon yesterday. He tried to tell them the boy was a member of his community and they would see to his punishment themselves, but given that only one of my men spoke anything even remotely resembling his dialect and only brokenly at that, there was a misunderstanding; Oldomin and his son were badly beaten and threatened with further violence if they caused any more trouble in the future."
Wincing as he wrote, Odin mouthed a silent profanity. "Wonderful publicity," he muttered as nearby one of the Rocket trainer's Pokémon, a Chameleon, stepped too close to another trainer's Wartortle and recoiled with a loud hiss that sent waves of murmuring through the crowd gathered opposite the stage. "And what was our resolution of the situation?"
May leaned a little closer to him. "I told him Simon would drop all pursuit of the boy who threw the rock. In addition we would lower his community's tax requirements by one hundred aurans for the next year."
Odin's pen ceased its squiggling as he looked up. "That's not going to go over well, with the other taxpayers or the coffers. Commander," he took a step closer to May's seat and spoke almost in a whisper, "our budget is already stretched a little thin given the," he paused and searched for words, "shall we say 'disappointing' take from Team Magma's stockpiles and all of our other expenses."
May raised a hand. "I'm aware of the situation," she answered. "But it can't be helped. We need to keep the old man happy unless we want a thousand potential soldiers defecting from our side to Magma's or Aqua's." She turned away from her subordinate and to the next man in line opposite the stage. "Please, approach," she called to the young man across from her, his well-trimmed tunic glittering with red and silver and immediately catching the savant's eye. "What can we do for you?" she asked as the man stepped down into the sand.
His black eyes and dark hair caching the light of the dozens of lamps scattered through the room as he did so, the man bowed and subsequently straightened up. "You have my sincerest gratitude for allowing me to stand in your presence, milady," he said in an exceptionally smooth baritone with a rolling accent. "Miles Mercangild at your service."
"Mercangild," May repeated, leaning forward in her seat, working to disguise her taking of a deep and labored breath. "That name with your accent," she went on, "I'd think you were a northerner."
Miles bowed low again. "Indeed," he answered. "I was bred and raised in Rustboro but my parents came from Fallarbor originally. It was from them I inherited our family business and the North's heartbreakingly good looks."
May nodded. "And what can we do for you?" she pressed, not impolitely.
Clearing his throat, Miles folded his arms behind his back. "My family runs the largest bank in the west, the Golden Guild, indeed one of the largest banks in all of Hoenn and the only such institution on the continent to survive the civil war. We have dozens of facilities across this land and several more in Johto.
"I come to you with a concern on behalf of the Mercangilds," he went on. "For you see, Petalburg's previous occupiers, Team Magma, owe a great deal of money to my family. They would regularly take out sizable loans to fund their operations, paying us back with a combination of taxes drawn off the local populations and further loans from my bank. Naturally this strategy of theirs left them in deep, deep debt. So deep in fact are their commitments that recently they've had to redirect most of their income to simply pay the interest on their loans and I've heard rumors that they're contemplating requesting yet more advances to try and pay down what they already owe. Understandably my peers and I have begun to worry that we may never see the return of our money, much less a return on it."
Leaning further forward and resting her elbows on her knees, May folded her hands over one another. "Interesting," she said cautiously. "So why exactly are you bringing this to my attention. Don't get me wrong," she held her hands up, "I appreciate knowing the logistical problems of my competitors, but what does this have to do with me?"
Miles grinned. "The Golden Guild is worried that Team Magma might have been a bad investment," he said. "They've squabbled over Hoenn for years and recently, though they'd met with some success in the west before you arrived, they've suffered one defeat after another in the east. As such we're looking for alternate opportunities, which is why I've come to you.
"We are prepared," the banker held out one hand as though physically proffering the deal, "to fund your fight against Team Magma and Team Aqua, advancing you up to four million aurans. That is of course assuming you agree to a few negligibly easy conditions."
May's jaw dropped open a little. She took a moment to shake herself from her surprise before going on. "Four million?" she repeated, no small amount of shock in her voice. "I didn't know there was that much gold in all of Hoenn."
Standing beside her, his ledger and pen still firmly grasped in one hand, Odin cleared his throat, drawing May's attention. When she looked up at him, Odin spoke so quietly even those directly around them couldn't make out exactly what he said. "Bad idea," whispered the captain as May listened without speaking. "If they're willing to finance you to destroy Team Magma because Magma couldn't pay back their loans, what's to stop these bankers from turning on us if we can't pay them back on their terms?"
May looked back down at the banker before her, thinking to herself. "And what would those negligible conditions happen to be?" she asked, her tone steady.
Again Miles folded his hands behind his back, standing tall and wearing a proud smile. "Of course I would never think to offer you this opportunity unless we at the Golden Guild genuinely wanted you to succeed, but we also need to see a return on our investments. As such you would be assigned an interest rate of a laughable one half of one percent on this forty year loan, assuming you agree to pay back in full what Team magma owes my family."
May thought a moment, her eyes focused on the floor at Miles' feet while she ran the numbers in her head. "You must be desperate to recoup Magma's losses if you're offering a deal that amazing. How much do they owe?"
Miles went on without hesitation. "Seven million aurans," he stated. "And before you ask, the terms of the agreement I'm prepared to offer would not include their debt in your principal; their commitments would be paid back separately and would thus not be affected by your interest rate."
Odin, lowering his ledger again leaned down to whisper to his commander. "This is a bad deal for us," he said flatly. "We get four million but have to pay back eleven million plus interest on the four while this banker collects not only our payments but whatever he's squeezing out of Magma for the duration of their existence? Then if we fall behind he can take all the money he's made off us and use it to fund our enemies. I'd strongly advise against this."
Whispering back, May shifted to her right, a little closer to her second. "This could be a great opportunity," she said quietly. "That kind of money would be enough to hire every mercenary company west of Mauville and sick them on Magma and Aqua. Even then we'd have enough left over to raise and outfit another army if we really needed to."
Odin shook his head. "And then we'd have to pay back an enormous amount of money, of which we barely got use of a third, after having just fought a very costly war. Plus it looks like Magma is getting ready to collapse under its own debt anyway, so let's let these bankers take their usury to Team Aqua instead so they can step on the same nest of Beedrill Magma did. We don't need to jump in bed with these people. We can beat everyone else as we are," he paused a moment. "It will just take us a little longer is all."
Sitting silent a moment, May looked between Odin and Miles, her face wracked with thought before she turned back to the former. "I'm trusting you on this one," she whispered back to him, instinctively reaching to her belt and rolling a pokeball around in her hand. "Odin, you're the one managing the finances and most of the logistics. I'm trusting you," she repeated.
Taking a deep breath and giving her a little nod, Odin looked back to his commander, his features cold and serious. "I'm sure," he answered, his voice a little louder. "We'll be operating on a budget tighter than a Mudkip's asshole, but in light of your strategy concerning the river basin, we can make it work. I'm sure of it."
May shivered at the mental picture, putting a hand between herself and Odin. "Fine, just never say that again," she turned back to Miles. "Mr. Mercangild," she said, leaning back in her seat, "regrettably we can't accept your offer," May went on. "Believe me, I appreciate the gesture, but the terms of your proposal just don't meet our needs at this time."
His grin turning sharply downwards, Miles looked at the floor a minute, bobbing his head from one side to the other. "Terms can change," he looked back up at May, his tone still predominantly lighthearted though now it bore an edge despite the return of his beaming smile. "I'd be happy to sit down with you in private and discuss the nature of the loan. Perhaps we can come to some sort of arrangement."
"At this time," May went on, "I don't think I'm looking to engage your services. That said, you're of course more than welcome to partake of our hospitality here at the Gym, or if you'd prefer we can put you up in some off-site housing."
Miles bowed yet again. "I have a villa some ways outside of town," he answered, his demeanor completely recapturing its former levity. "It's a pity we cannot do business today, but we at the Golden Guild shall remain in touch. If your mind or your circumstances change I'd be happy to return." He righted himself before saluting her slowly and politely. "Until we meet again, milady," the banker turned and strode from the hall, his lushly padded boots making no noise as he left the room.
Drawing in a deep breath and still fidgeting with the pokeball in her hand, May glanced to Odin from the corner of her eye. "Four million aurans," she whispered, "walking out the door."
Odin made a face, prompting May to wonder if perhaps he tried to smirk but failed to properly execute the muscular movements necessary to complete the action. "We didn't lose four million," he answered in a whisper to match his commander's. "Rather, we just saved eleven million, plus who knows how much interest."
"Four hundred and fourteen thousand, eighty-five aurans worth of interest," May answered, her eyes focused on the crowd of plaintiffs still gathered silently at the entrance of the Gym's main chamber. She glanced to her captain, registering the surprise on his face. "Elm, for all his faults," she went on, "wasn't an awful teacher."
Lowering his ledger, Odin turned to face forward again. "I can do the math," he answered. "It's more that I-" he stopped mid-sentence. "No, never mind," the youthful captain returned his ledger to chest level and prepared to write as May waved forward the next plaintiff.
The smell of frankincense and burning charcoal filled the Gym's grand chamber as May's attendants threw oil and resigns on the numerous fires scattered about the room and into the many lamps fastened to the walls. Moreover the smell of smoke, its source a huge but lazily dozing Charmeleon sitting by its trainer not five meters to May's left, wafted all throughout the room and hung about the air like a nearly imperceptible curtain. As one plaintiff after another paraded before her, each seeming to attempt a lower bow than his predecessor in order to more thoroughly supplicate himself to the young lady on the stage, May sank gradually lower and lower into her seat. Sweat beaded on her brow while the young savant met with the community leaders and peasants of Petalburg, though as the afternoon progressed into evening, the woman in the white and gold armor spent less and less time paying any attention whatsoever to the people before her, focusing rather on the windows to the west or the skylights above her, through which the savant looked out upon the ever darkening clouds drenching Petalburg in a never ending deluge.
May snapped to her senses, coming back from a particularly long and blank stare at the windows to her right, as Odin's fingertips lighted on her shoulder and the young captain whispered her name. "What's that?" May stammered, looking up at her second in command and registering the concern in his green eyes. She glanced between Odin and where she expected what remained of the crowd opposite her stage to be. "Oh," she muttered, seeing that no petitioners remained in the hall to plead for her time or protection. "Did I miss anything?"
Standing back upright, Odin took a step to the side. "You got awfully quiet there for a moment," he said beneath his breath. "Fortunately we'd run out of complainers for the day. Ready to call it a night?"
Clapping her hands once to draw everyone's attention, the young savant looked to the Team Rocket guards standing all around her. "Thank you everyone," she called out, leaning forward in her chair as to disguise the effort required to strengthen her voice. "You've all done a fine job standing around and looking intimidating and slash or pretty. Go get some rest. We've got a big week coming up. Dismissed."
Remaining by his commander's side as everyone else filed from the hall, Odin waited silently until he could speak without risk of being overheard. "Big week huh?" he echoed.
May climbed to her feet, reaching up with one hand to wipe her forehead. "So, what are the damages?" she nodded to the leather bound book in Odin's hand, ignoring his prompt.
Sighing, the captain flipped open the book and began scanning through the most recent entries. "Well, better than they could have been, worse than I would have thought ideal," he answered, pausing to mentally tabulate as a particularly loud peal of thunder shook the building. "We're pretty much breaking even," Odin said at length. "Restoring Petalburg's infrastructure and buying off its community leaders has been expensive, but the tribute we've collected from the surrounding villages coupled with what we managed to cannibalize from Magma's stores have pretty much absorbed the costs. Now," Odin turned one of the heavy pages. "We do need to talk about the funds you allocated to retrofitting the fleet to carry all these mercenaries you've been hiring."
May raised an eyebrow. "What about them?" she asked.
Waiting a moment as another rumbling peal of thunder drowned him out, Odin closed the ledger and looked his commander in the eye. "Well frankly it's an enormous, a titanic waste of money, ma'am," he said, his timbre some combination of nervous mixed with an attempt to sound casual. "If the plan is to hit the cities to the east using the river valley then there's no reason to outfit the fleet to carry the mercenaries; half our ships are too big to fit down the river and the ones that aren't are the ones you're choosing not to equip with the landing crafts."
Stepping forward and carefully hopping down from the stage, May motioned for Odin to follow, prompting him to step up beside her. "And how is the work on the fleet going, by the way?" she asked, walking around the stage and making her way towards the back of the Gym.
"We're essentially finished," Odin answered, no shortage of irritation thinly veiled in his words. "The project manager tells me that the retrofits should be done by the day after tomorrow. May," he walked just a little ahead of his commander and stopped, prompting the young savant to halt as well. "You still haven't told me why you're retrofitting half the ships in the fleet to carry a bunch of landing craft, when those ships and the crafts they're carrying are literally useless to the invasion we have planned. Nor have you told me why we're keeping the retrofits so quiet."
May remained silent, looking at the wall beside her second in command, so Odin continued on. "May," he said. "I've told you a thousand times that I'm beside you one hundred percent and I meant it every time. I'm happy to serve. If you want me to serve at peak efficiency though, I need to know what's going on. I need to know what you're thinking so I can know how to do what you want done. Whatever you're not telling me could be vital to-"
May stepped forward and pushed herself up on the tips of her toes to kiss Odin's cheek, silencing him instantly. Reaching to his side, the girl took her captain's hand in hers and kissed him once more, taking a breath and speaking then without pulling away so her words broke on his jaw. "And you have no idea how much it means to me, all the work you're doing," May said. "Odin, you're clever and a hard worker and I honestly don't know how I'd have made it this far without all your help. I just," she trailed off a moment. "I need you to trust me. I have a plan. I just can't tell anyone what it is without risking it falling apart. If Magma or Aqua got wind of what I want to do then-"
Odin raised a finger and put it on May's lip, clearly still irritated. "Say no more, I understand," he groaned. The young captain cleared his throat. "Tell you what," he went on a moment later. "It's Matthison's wife's birthday and I promised him I'd take his patrol tonight so he could spend some time off with her. After the shift I'll collect all the reports on retrofitting the fleet and compile them with the expense overviews from the mercenary squads so you can review them first thing in the morning. That way you can turn in early, you look wiped out," he smiled at her, though his expression bore obvious marks of concern.
"Thank you," May answered, her bright blue eyes ringed by deep purple bands betraying the true depth of her fatigue. "Listen, Odin," she said, trailing off again before continuing. "I want you to know that I'm not overlooking everything you've done and everything you're doing. I'm pretty terrible at all this but I want you to know," she paused. "I want you to know that once this is all said and done and we have some time to breathe, I'll be able to thank you properly. I'm," the young savant grinned and her eyes fluttered between the captain before her and the floor at her feet, "I'm really quite looking forward to having some time to unwind," she said, her eyes finally settling on his.
A reflexive smile overtaking his face and mirroring his commander's, Odin gave her hand a squeeze. "All in good time," he said, his face taking on the slightest hint of a sanguine hue despite, or perhaps due to, the frustration lingering on his features and in his mind. "Now," he bowed, the gesture possessed of a good natured playfulness, "if you'll excuse me, milady."
May bowed in return. "You're excused," she answered, letting go of his hand. "Milord."
Turning on his heel, Odin paced towards the southern end of the Gym, his red and black armor lightly tapping against itself as he walked. May watched him go, the smile on her lips stubbornly clinging to life even as the spark in her blue eyes faded. She turned then, shoulders bent as though beneath a tremendous weight, but stopped instantly as a heavyset character wrapped in green and silver armor seemed to materialize from the shadows before her and step into the center of the hall.
Managing to contain her gasp of shock, May raised a hand and pressed it to her chest as the man before her inclined his head in her direction. "Desmond," the young commander nearly shouted the greeting. "Forgive me, I didn't see you there."
Taking a step to one side as not to box May in, the man in the green plate armor leaned his considerable weight against one wall and folded his hands behind his back as he spoke. "No, the need to beg forgiveness is mine milady," he said, his words slightly slurred by the inability of his deformed mouth to properly form them. He reached up and scratched at the deeply twisted and mottled scar that ran from the bottom of his nose through both his lips. "I was trying not to eavesdrop on you and the captain, but I needed to catch you before you retired."
May's attention, despite her best efforts, flickered to the dozen pokeballs, the half-a-dozen knives, the shortsword, the longsword, and the heavy cudgel the mercenary soldier before her wore on his belt and all over his person. "Of course," she answered, looking back up to his face and slipping back into her formal demeanor. "What can I do for you?"
Desmond started to speak, but cut himself off with a rattling cough and took a moment thereafter to clear his throat. "Pardon," he groaned, "my stints in Fallarbor and Mt. Chimney were not kind to my lungs." He stopped once more to accommodate a heaving cough that echoed down the hall. "Anyway," he said, regaining his breath, "about that matter that you asked I look into, the two decapitations?"
May quickly looked over her shoulder and about the hall before, spotting no one around, turning back to the mercenary. "Did you find anything?" she asked.
Reaching beneath his thick breastplate, the gnarled soldier produced a folded sheet of vellum secured with a narrow cord. "I put my best hunters on it. The scene of the murders was of course washed completely clean by the rain, but my boys put out some feelers among the locals and come to find out there were some odd visitors in town the morning your men were killed."
Taking the sheet, May slipped it in her pocket. "Broad stroke it for me," she answered.
"Well it's an interesting case," Desmond responded. "My hunters found a witness to the killings. The kid says he saw about ten men in black cloaks come from the inn down the way, kill your guards, and then disappear with their uniforms. When my boys followed up at the inn we learned that only one of the killers had a room and he'd only been there for a day or so prior."
May swallowed the lump in her throat. "Did you find out where he came from or where he went?"
The mercenary shook his head. "Possibly," he muttered. "The owner said the quarry paid for his stay with a single gold coin but refused to sign the guest register. I did manage however," Desmond grinned and produced from his pocket a glimmering golden disc about the size of his thumbnail, "to get the coin from the owner." He offered it to May who took the coin and immediately held it up to the light. "I didn't recognize the markings but I thought it's certainly a better starting place than-"
"I do," May stated flatly, any emotion in her voice suddenly vanishing as she looked down at the raised runes intertwining across the surface of the coin. She looked to the mercenary beside her, her eyes hard. "I recognize the markings."
Desmond shifted his arms and folded them before his chest. "And?" he probed.
"And," May closed her fist tightly around the gold token before opening it back up again to stare at the coin in her palm, "they're Orrean."
The mercenary's face quickly grew sober. "What exactly does that mean?" he asked.
May thought for a long moment. "It means someone wanted to send a message, and that I can't trust anyone just because they're wearing a Team Rocket uniform anymore," she said. May went on a moment later, "It also means I'll need you and your men ready for a fight sooner than planned."
Again Desmond nodded to the young commander. "The Sons of Swords are at your beck and call," he answered. "Just point at what you need dead and we'll do the rest."