Matthew: Shadow's Lies
Matthew breathed a sigh of relief as he watched the retreating form of the messenger that Lord Oswin had sent to get his report. He'd had alot to cover in it, largely reporting on the building civil war from the angle of the common folk it was affecting, but on the matter of his primary objective it was sadly deficient. Wester had been of some small help, but not nearly enough to give him any actual clues as to Nergal's whereabouts. He had at least guided Matthew towards another batch of ex-Fangs, who had also not had any contact with Nergal or any morphs at all in quite some time.
That at least tells me that he's cutting his losses and either starting from scratch or not bothering with normal humans at all, since he's not bothering to pull the remnants of the Black Fang together. That's...something at least. It wasn't nearly enough to feel like it was worth reporting, but he knew that was just the frustration talking. Lord Hector would want to hear this, even if it wasn't much. Unfortunately, that was the last bit of information on Nergal that Matthew would likely be able to send back for awhile.
The messenger hadn't just been there to get his report. He also brought a couple things for Matthew from Lord Oswin. Namely, more gold and new orders. The gold was certainly welcome, as just having it would make him seem a bit more successful as a peddler, not to mention allow him to stock up better before reaching his next real objective. But it was the new orders that he was more concerned with. They had to come from Oswin, because there was no way Lord Hector would tell him to consider Nergal the secondary objective and focus more on the war as the immediate concern. But Lord Hector had either approved them, or had simply given Oswin the authority to oversee this on his own. Either way, that meant Matthew had to change his focus whether he liked it or not.
It might not be a total loss, I suppose. We have reason to believe that the King is who hired the Fang to kill the prince off, so the King's forces may still be in contact with the Fang's remnants. It's a long shot, but I'll look for it anyway.
After the messenger was far enough away, Matthew waved his guardsman over, "Alright, I've got new orders, so the hunt for the Fang is getting tabled for awhile."
Wester scratched his chin while he considered what that meant, "So...does this mean you won't be needin' me any more?"
Matthew shrugged, "Having a guard does make me look more legitimate, which I could use, since I'll need every advantage I can get to avoid suspicion from the King's men. That's where I'm heading, but that'll all I'll say. The less you know about what I'm actually looking for, the safer I am. So..." he hefted the purse of gold he'd been sent, "I'll give you two options. I can pay you out here, and you get the hell out of Bern entirely. You already know enough that unless you're working for me, I don't want you around where I'm working at all. Or, you can stay on. I could use the guard to keep up appearances, and I won't pretend your bow isn't worth the price in a pinch. But whichever you decide, I need to know now."
He had expected a polite refusal to accompany him any further, and a quick decision to take the money and run. But instead the archer seemed to actually be weighing the options. After a bit of thinking, Wester grumbled a bit, "I wish I knew which side of this showdown Brendan Reed would come down on. Or even Lloyd and Linus, they were good guys back then too."
Matthew silently raised an eyebrow at that. He hadn't been expecting anything like that from the man. Wester was generally extremely quiet unless asked a direct question, and had never just volunteered his thoughts like that before.
The archer shook his head and leaned on the side of the cart, "You know, I joined the Fang 'cause I believed in what Reed was saying. About how the corrupt nobles were just running roughshod all over the common folk, and they needed someone to stand up for 'em. Maybe with a knife in the dark instead of anything out in the open, but it got the message across all the same. The King..." he shook his head, "he's a right bastard these days it sounds like. But I don't know if your Prince'll be any better. I'm just not sure what's the right thing to do here."
"You're actually concerned about what's 'right'?" Matthew couldn't help but snort at what he was hearing.
Of course, Wester didn't take that overly well and glared at the spy in response, "Hey, I was part of the old Fang, and we had values. Not like the creeps that Nergal guy brought in with him."
Matthew quirked an eyebrow again and countered, "So was your druid pal, from what you've told me. You remember him, right? The guy who was blockading off a town for mysterious reasons and was perfectly willing to kill a couple of kids he had hostage? Where does working for a guy like that fit into your morality?"
The archer winced at the retort, "...right. I didn't know Lars was gonna pull stuff like that when I left with him. Leaving the Fang was dangerous, you know? Real good chance they'd come for you, and not to politely ask you to come back. I didn't much like what he was doing...but Lars was strong. Strong enough to maybe survive if they sent someone after us. I was scared what would happen if I struck off alone, so I stuck with him." He sighed as he hung his head a bit at the thought, "I suppose that makes me a coward, huh?"
He could have pressed on, but picking the guy apart wasn't what he was after, so Matthew just shook his head, "Nothing wrong with putting your own skin first. Just don't try and get up on a morality horse if you do."
"What about you?" Wester asked, "You think what you're doing is right, don't you?"
Matthew shrugged, "Yeah, but...not because I made the decision. I trust L..." he almost said his actual lord's name, but caught himself and inwardly cursed the clumsiness, "my lord. I let him decide what's right and wrong, and I do what I have to so he can succeed. Including things that he would hate me if he heard the details of." He chuckled there, as Lord Hector was alot harder to phase then most, but even he wasn't up to hearing the fine details of some of Matthew's work, "I don't fight for a cause, and I try not to think about right and wrong. I fight for him, and I just have to trust that he IS the man for the job. It's all I can do."
Wester was quiet for a bit, considering that. Which was fine by Matthew, he needed a moment to get back into character as well, he'd let a bit too much of himself slip out there. It surprised him a bit, since after he'd said it, he realized how true the sentiment was. Lord Hector definitely wasn't a saint, but that was part of what made Matthew trust him. But this is no time to be thinking about that. I was planning on trying to get information from the soldiers eventually anyway, I just need to speed it up.
Letting the archer keep thinking, Matthew got the cart ready to go. He wanted to be back on the road as soon as he could instead of waiting around here. As he stepped up into the drivers seat, he called back without turning, "Look, I'm getting a move on. If you haven't caught up by the time I reach that next hill, I'll take that as your answer and leave your gold there for you." Without waiting for a response at all, he prodded the horse into motion.
It didn't take long before he heard rapid footsteps behind, so he slid over to the left side of the seat to make room as Wester caught up and pulled himself up into the cart. After catching his breath, the archer looked over at the spy, though Matthew didn't turn his head to meet the man's eyes.
With a chuckle, Wester shook his head in amusement, "One of these days I want to meet that Prince of yours, if he gets loyalty like that outta guys like you."
Matthew's only response was a noncommittal shrug. Yeah, that's not going to happen. And now that I know he's coming along, I know what kind of plans to start making...
The camp of General Serdin is where Matthew decided to gather his information. He was high enough in the King's esteem and running enough of this conflict that Matthew figured his camp would have some choice bits of intelligence. And better yet, rumor had it that he was keeping morale up with his troops by giving his commanders a lot of leeway to award bonuses to their soldiers, as well as being willing to spend the coin to try and hire some of the Prince's mercenary forces away from him. It was a great place for a peddler to try and get himself into, and for completely legitimate reasons.
Though even that did come with its own problems. Such as needing to compete with actual merchants who had the same thought, but Matthew was fairly certain he could find the right balance of being successful enough to justify staying, but not so successful he'd stand out. But no matter what, he would need to do a lot of talking. Which was fine, since talking to people was basically the entire point...for him. He wasn't sure just how much he wanted his current guard talking in the camp, but he couldn't exactly stop him from socializing, He would just have to coach Wester before they got there on what the story was, and make sure he stuck to it.
Ironically, the main reason Matthew was even willing to take the risk of trusting this guy as far as he did was the fact that he was an ex-Fang. The same group he had recently been fighting against, who's behind the scenes leader he was trying to hunt down now. Being a Fang meant Wester at the very least knew how to keep a secret. There was still some worry that he might try to sell Matthew out, but somehow he wasn't worried about it too much. It wasn't like he actually trusted the guy, but his gut told him that Wester wasn't the type to pull a flat out betrayal like that, and he did trust his gut. At least on professional matters.
They still had a bit to go before they reached the camp, as well as a couple of stops to make to stock up on the right kind of merchandise. Plenty of time for him to get everything in order and make sure he could pull this off.
An officer stopped their cart as they approached the camp, which Matthew had been fully expecting. He offered the man a wave and a cheerful grin as he came closer, "Afternoon, sir."
The officer gave a weary nod in response, then got straight to business, "Peddler, are you? I'll need your name, your man's name, a list of what you're selling, how long you plan to be here, and for you to step away from your cart so I can look through it."
Matthew just nodded along with all of this, then slid out of the cart and motioned Wester to follow as he answered the questions, "Not a problem, sir. The name's Norris, my guard here is Wester and he's freelance, not guild. I'm selling some things the soldiers might appreciate on the trail, some honey, dried fruits, nuts and preserves to supplement rations with. Some good blankets and a few coats, scarves and other things to help with poor weather. Also a couple of excellent small knives, good for skinning, carving, things like that. I doubt they'd be much use in a fight though. Some other odds and ends you can see for yourself back there too."
The officer was already going through the contents in the back as he listened, then continued with the questions once Matthew stopped talking, "Any weapons?"
"For sale?" Matthew asked, "None unless you count the small knives. For ourselves, yes. I carry a blade," he tapped the one at his side, "and I keep a long knife under the seat in case of emergencies. Wester here has his bow and a couple of knives, you'd have to ask him how many."
"Three," the archer offered unprompted.
Matthew resisted the urge to smile wider as he heard the officer chuckle, then waited for the line he knew was coming.
"Well, you're awfully cooperative." the man noted as he did indeed check under the seat for the listed knife, "I'm not sure if I should be thankful or more suspicious." Then he frowned, "I think I'll settle on suspicious. You've got a hidden compartment here, open it up."
Matthew just nodded and walked over to open up the hidden hatch under the seat, "Sure. What's in there isn't for sale, I keep some dry clothes, hard rations and a bit of my gold in there, so if the cart breaks or I get burgled I should have something left at least."
The officer looked through it and sure enough, found exactly what he was told he would find, then cast an odd look at the 'merchant'.
Now Matthew did allow himself to grin wider, "I'm ex-city guard, which is why I know the drill, and how I found that hatch in the first place myself. The guy I bought the cart from didn't even know it was there."
"Gate duty?"
"Only once a year, when they needed extra hands for the harvest market crowd. Normally I handled inner city patrols. The gate guys showed me the tricks though, and the questions were down to rote by the end of the first damned day."
Finally the officer nodded and allowed Matthew to close the compartment. He was satisfied by the story, it made everything he saw fit into place and didn't quite put 'Norris' into the category where he was so unassuming that he became clearly suspicious. Matthew had seen a couple of other spies caught that way, by being so good at not drawing attention that they drew attention because of it, a mistake he wasn't about to make.
As the officer waved them through and told them who to see about setting up their business and camp, Matthew thanked him and didn't let the chuckle he was feeling inside show. This had been the easy part. The fun part would be sneaking back out alone later to recover the equipment he'd stashed out there before even coming in view of the camp, then sneaking back in unseen with it. But hey, what was life without a little challenge every now and again?
A pikeman was looking over one of the small jars of preserves Matthew had brought for sale and looking somewhat pained, "This...I'd like to get it, but..."
Matthew winced, "The price?"
The soldier nodded, "Yeah. Maybe this is what you can get for it in a good town, but soldier's wages aren't that much. And worse, we're largely getting paid in chits instead of real coin..."
"The old royal IOU, huh?" Matthew had found that out in a bit of snooping around earlier, but made a show of sympathy and thinking it over for a bit. After what he thought was long enough to be realistic, he smiled at the man, "Alright, here's an idea. You get your commanding officer over here, and I'll see if I can work out something with the chits. And if I can manage to sell him anything while I'm at it, I'll give you a discount on the preserves." He gave him a wink at that offer, "being able to say that brass shops with Norris is good for business."
Looking relieved and amused, the pikeman went to go talk his CO into a chat with the peddler. This being the military, a simple squad leader couldn't make a decision like that on his own either, but he did like the idea so the officer went up the chain to HIS commanding officer who could.
One meeting with a few mid-ranking officers later, and 'Norris' had worked out a system to take army chits as well as coin, not to mention making a few contacts with the officers. Not to mention the other soldiers that were coming in to see what this peddler who would take army chits had for sale.
And a few days later, he had his first chance to try and placate some 'rival' merchants who didn't want to take army chits as they'd be useless if the King's forces lost, but now had to start because some idiot amateur went and took the risk so they'd all look un-patriotic if they didn't follow suit. It went about as Matthew had expected it to, with him doing lots of laughing it off and obviously fake apologizing and trying to stir up some loyalty to the king in the other merchants. Which largely only served to make them more irritated...and make Matthew a couple more friends among the soldiers who happened to overhear some of this. The merchants weren't who he was going to get his information from anyway.
A few more days like that passed, with 'Norris' quickly running out of stock. He spent a bit of time taking requests for specific things wanted, particularly from the low and mid ranking brass he'd gotten in good with, and hit the road to go and restock.
Wester looked back over his shoulder at the retreating camp, then back at his employer and decided it was safe enough to venture a whispered question, "So...did you actually get any good information from 'em?"
Matthew flicked his own eyes around to make sure it was safe before responding in a quiet but not quite whispered tone of his own, "Nah, this run wasn't for actually gathering intel. This was for making contacts. Next time is when the I'll start picking up the good stuff. Good job on keeping your mouth shut and fending off the army recruiters, by the way."
The archer shrugged, "Weren't that hard. I don't talk around strangers much anyway and I sure as cured shit don't wanna join the army."
That got a snicker from the spy, "Cured shit. That's a new one. I don't even want to imagine what that would smell like."
A snort was Wester's only reply to that. But a few miles longer down the road he had to ask another question that had been bugging him, "So...how exactly are you gonna afford new stock when half your money is army chits now?"
"I've still got plenty left from my employers. Also, leave worrying about details like that to me."
Wester was quiet for a moment, then sighed, "You're gonna steal it, aren't you?"
"And risk selling stolen product to the army? I don't know where any given soldier is from, and I don't want to risk stealing something that someone might recognize as being from their hometown. Then they might ask me questions about the town, the person I got it from, all that stuff. And you don't learn the small talk when you steal, you learn it when you buy." Matthew shook his head, " So no, I'm going to honestly purchase my stock with stolen money instead."
The archer could not think of how to respond to that logic.
Between the money he had leftover and the money he later acquired along the way, resupplying had not been a problem for Matthew. With a new batch of merchandise to pedal to the soldiers, he turned his cart back towards the camp and his attention towards how best to get the kind of information Lord Oswin would want.
However, even with all of his preparation, he was not expecting what happened when he tried to re-enter the camp.
"Peddler Norris?" A different guard, one he hadn't seen at all during his previous time at the camp, stopped Matthew's cart on the way in.
Immediately he felt uneasy. The guard's tone was level and not openly antagonistic, but extremely firm. Could be that he just took his job seriously, but it more likely meant he had specific orders involving 'Norris'. The fact that there were half a dozen other soldiers nearby, none of them looking bored or distracted in the least, didn't help the feeling either. But while Matthew was already trying to run through the long list of things that could be going on in his mind, 'Norris' had no reason to be anything but cooperative.
So he offered the guard a tired smile and motioned for Wester to hop out of the cart, "That's me." Easily climbing out of the cart himself he kept his tone casual as he spoke, "same as last time, right? The merchandise is all organized in the back, and I don't know if you heard from the guy who was out here before but there's a hidden cache under the seat where I keep some emergency supplies, just so you're not surprised when you find it."
The guard nodded, but then motioned for the other soldiers to come forward, one of which grabbed Matthew by the arm roughly while another took his sword.
"Uh," Matthew did his best to sound confused even as he was swearing a blue streak in his head, "wait, what's this all about? What's going on?"
"I have orders to bring you directly to the general. In chains if you resist."
On the other side of the cart, three other soldier's approached Wester and demanded he turn over his weapons.
Saying nothing, the archer looked over at his employer, and Matthew gave him a nod, "Yeah, do what they say. Whatever this is about, I'll get it sorted out. Stay with the cart if you can, keep out of trouble 'till I get back."
The guard waited only long enough to see that Wester complied before hauling Matthew off to the General, refusing to answer any other questions along the way.
General Serdin was an extremely physically imposing man, standing nearly six and a half feet high and if he didn't weigh close to three hundred pounds then Matthew had lost his touch for sizing people up. This size, combined with his stern demeanor and the fact that he wore such heavy armor so easily made it very easy for Matthew to act every bit as cowed by the man as 'Norris' should be.
Not wanting to risk saying something he shouldn't, Matthew just half-bowed deferentially to the man and waited for him to say something.
For his part, the General seemed content to loom silently for a minute or two, perhaps to let the full impact of his presence settle in. If so, it was working.
"So." Matthew tensed up as the general finally spoke, his voice deep and almost deceptively casual, "I'll give you a chance to either talk your way out of this, or just dig the hole deeper. Why do you think you're here right now, mister Norris?"
Matthew openly sighed. Instantly he began spinning the best escape route he could think of, made with equal parts lies and truth, and hoping Wester was being smart and staying silent for whatever interrogation they were giving him, "Look...sir, I don't know exactly what you've heard about Wester, but I swear to St. Ellimine that he hasn't done anything wrong lately. He's trying to turn himself around, he really is."
Off to the side, a smaller man who had kept silent until now raised an eyebrow and adjusted his glasses, "Wester? That's the name of your guard, yes?"
Matthew made himself look confused, "Um, yes? Wait, you mean this isn't about...?"
The general smiled, looking like nothing so much as a pleased predator, "Why don't you finish telling us about this Wester, hmm?"
He took the bait. Matthew slumped and nodded, but relaxed just a bit inwardly as he started to explain his story, "Um...yessir. Wester's...well...um..."
The smaller main snapped at him, "Spit it out."
"Uh, right," Matthew winced and nodded again, "He's...a former member of the Black Fang, sir." Before they could react to that, he looked up and quickly started to defend his guard's character, "I swear he's out, though! He's hired on with me to kinda keep moving around after we managed to get rid of the first batch they sent after him to take him out. I guess they don't take kindly to deserters..."
The general and the man in glasses exchanged a look, and after a nod from the general the smaller man stood up and walked over to Matthew. Pacing back and forth, while keeping a close eye on Matthew's face and expression, the man began asking questions, "We? So you helped him fight off Fang assassins? I find that a bit hard to believe, and I'm even more skeptical that IF you are telling the truth about that part, that you would continue to travel with a man being hunted by a league of assassins. Care to elaborate on those points for me?"
Shit. Matthew nodded, and began expanding on his story even as he grew increasingly nervous about this man, "Well, I was a city guard for years before I lucked into some coin and tried my hand at being a peddler. It's what I've always wanted to do, you know? So I can handle myself in a fight well enough. We, uh..." he looked a bit embarrased, "didn't beat all three of them, though. There was a dark mage...uh, Wester seemed to know him, called him Lars by name, I think. And he had two roughnecks with him, big mountain boys with more muscle then brains. Well, Wester managed to kill the mage, and I'd hurt the other two a bit, then...well, I took a gamble and offered to buy them off after their leader got an arrow through the brainbox."
"And they took it?"
Matthew nodded again, quickly inventing the details of the story even as he told it, "After I'd offered it, Wester talked 'em around. He figured they'd get punished for letting the mage die even if they went back successful, and they believed him. So they took some coin and said they'd get out of Bern completely, with any luck the Fang would just believe we killed all three of 'em."
"So you not only helped him fight off assassins, but parted with your own money to help him out...then let him join you as a guard?" The man adjusted his glasses again, and gave Matthew a flat stare that said nothing so much as he wasn't buying it at all.
This guy reminds me of Grant. I'm dead. SHIT. "Wasn't just for him, I wasn't in great shape there either and they were attacking me too. And..." he then took a risk and gave the man an outright defiant look, "Yeah, I did. I've always believed that everyone deserves a chance to turn themselves around. Maybe not everyone who gets that chance will make good on it, but I'll be damned if I have the chance to give that to someone and not at least try."
"School your tone, merchant." The general himself spoke up again, reprimanding Matthew but not harshly.
Visibly shrinking back from even that, Matthew nodded hastily and muttered out, "Yessir, 'm sorry, sir."
Satisfied with that result, the general addressed the other man, "Your thoughts, Crispin?"
Crispin, as apparently the man in glasses was called, shrugged, "I think he's telling the truth, actually. Or at least most of it. If you want the rest, I can have it from him eventually."
Matthew kept silent during this exchange, but that phrase, in that matter-of-fact tone of voice, had him very worried. Oh that does nooooooot sound promising...
"Hmm. I'll think on that." Turning his attention back to Matthew, the general returned to his earlier question, "So, you say you don't know why you're here then?"
Matthew shook his head, "If it's not about Wester, then no sir I really don't. All I can think of is maybe there was something wrong with something I sold before? But I can't imagine a minor problem like that would go all the way to the general, sir."
"No, if it were only that you would have been dealt with by my staff." The general gave Matthew a long, piecing stare, looking for something in his expression or pose...but eventually relaxed his gaze and finished, "we have reason to believe that you are an enemy spy."
Putting on his best completely pole-axed expression, Matthew dumbly repeated, "An enemy spy?"
Somehow, that reaction got a low chuckle from General Serdin, "You're either a very bad, or incredibly good spy. I can't decide which just yet."
"Or...not a spy at all, sir."
Matthew looked up with surprise, since those words hadn't come from him, but rather Crispin. The same man who had just casually implied that he could get information from him without issue.
The general frowned at his aide, "Explain."
"Of course, sir." Crispin nodded, and picked up some papers he had set on a nearby table earlier, "I took the liberty of investigating just who that anonymous information about Norris being the prince's spy actually came from, as I'm sure you'll agree that informants who try to conceal their own identities are more then a bit suspicious. What I found was one master Torvin, another merchant who sells supplies to the soldiers. Supplies that are very similar to the ones sold by Norris here."
"Get to the point, Crispin."
Once again, the man adjusted his glasses then flipped to a different page, "Upon further investigation, I discovered multiple accounts of the merchant Torvin arguing with and even threatening Norris after the latter engaged in a risky business maneuver that forced the former to follow suit or risk losing too many sales, as well as the goodwill of the men."
Seeing his chance, Matthew piped up, "Wait, THAT guy? Yeah, he told me if I didn't knock it off he'd make sure I got put out of business. I just figured it was a bunch of bluster and blew him off..."
"He used that exact threat, did he?" Crispin asked, "Who else heard it?"
"I'm pretty sure Wester was in earshot, and Torvin had one of his guards there as well..." Matthew wracked his brain to remember what the man looked like, "um, didn't get a name but he was shorter then me, red hair, carries a bigger sword then I do..."
"I'll look into it." Crispin nodded, then turned back to the general, "you see sir, I have far more reason to suspect that this the plot of a merchant trying to remove a rival then that this man is a spy."
The general did not seem pleased by this conclusion, but his anger was focused solely on his assistant, "And you did not see fit to bring this to my attention BEFORE we bothered interrogating the man?"
Now it was Crispin's turn to shrink back from the general's imposing presence and quickly explain his actions, "My apologies sir, but I assumed it would be better to question Norris regardless, and without any bias for or against him. Also, it is my experience that everyone is guilty of something and we certainly did get some interesting information about his guardsman. Enough that I think it might be prudent to have Wester questioned about the recent movements of the Black Fang, which we could not have done at all if we didn't have Norris brought in."
The room was silent for a long moment, but eventually the general growled and turned to leave, "I'm going to prepare the troops to move. Have Norris and his guard detained while you question Torvin, then deal with the situation as appropriate for what you find. You will report to Commander Garve in my absence."
Crispin bowed, "Yes sir. Consider the matter settled."
After the general stormed out of the room, Matthew visibly relaxed, slumping down in his chair. Thankfully, that was quite appropriate for his persona as well. "The general's taking the field himself?" he whistled lowly, "I kinda feel sorry for the other guy."
"Indeed." Crispin sighed and turned to give orders to a soldier who had been standing guard, "Have a tent pitched and escort Norris and his guard Wester to it. Make sure they are unarmed and carrying nothing but the clothes on their backs, then make sure they stay within the tent until I send for them." Looking back to Matthew he added, "If you are in fact innocent, quiet compliance is the best tool you have at the moment."
Near simultaneously, Matthew and the solider responded, "Yes sir."
As the soldier escorted him out, Matthew did his best to suppress a very uneasy feeling. That went better then it could have. But I'm not in the clear just yet...
Matthew sighed and shifted in his bedroll in the tent. It had to be close to midnight at this point, and they hadn't brought Wester back yet. At this rate...he wasn't really expecting to come back at all. He hadn't had any time or privacy to coach the archer on what to talk about when questioned before they hauled him off. He's either sold me out, or they've locked him up. Or worse. And I got him into this mess.
He was half tempted to just slip out now. The guard was light enough...or at least what he saw of it was, that Matthew was pretty sure he could escape alone in the dead of night without issue. But...
He flicked his eyes to the tent's entrance...and couldn't do it. It was stupid. It was going to get him killed. For all he knew, Wester had already sold him out, every bit of sense told him that he should bail while he still could.
But what if the archer hadn't betrayed him?
Professionally, that shouldn't matter. Matthew's loyalty was to his lord, and he couldn't do a thing for Ostia if he was caught here. But even knowing that, he couldn't abandon the guy. Just like he couldn't leave those kids on their own before.
Leila... he consciously thought of the woman he had loved for the first time in a long while. What would you do here? ...no, I don't even need to ask. I know what you'd do.
Suddenly he snapped out of his thoughts at the sound of someone approaching the tent. Scrambling to his feet, he wanted to be ready for whoever it was, and whatever reason they were coming. With any luck, it was just Wester being brought back.
As the tent flap opened, Matthew squinted his eyes to better make out who it was in the darkness...then aborted the plan entirely and tried to bolt the second he saw the figure pointing a staff at him.
Even with his speed, he wasn't even able to dash past the man with the staff before it's magic touched him and he felt his consciousness instantly slip away.
"Back with us, are you?" A voice, calm, clinical and unmistakably belonging to General Serdin's aide Crispin greeted Matthew as his eyes fluttered open.
Waking up was good, since it meant he was still alive at least. But waking up with his hands and feet chained to a wall wasn't so great. He didn't respond to Crispin's comment, instead focusing on getting his eyes adjusted to the dim light in the room.
Once he could see, he quickly took stock of his situation. Four armed men, plus Crispin himself...who was carrying what Matthew could recognize as a sleep staff. ...he's a mage. Heaven help me, that bastard is a mage.
He must have flinched or given some visible reaction to that thought, because Crispin chuckled and gestured with the staff in question, "Ah, you recognize this, do you? I normally don't waste such valuable magic, but after a conversation with your guardsman I decided it was best to err on the side of overkill rather then risk underestimating you."
Matthew felt his heart sink into his stomach. He did sell me out. I guess I can't blame him, this asshole probably spun it to look like I did it to him first.
"No reaction? Nothing to say?" Crispin sighed, "I suppose I should have expected that I'd have to do this the hard way."
That got Matthew's attention, and not in a good way. Closing his eyes, he braced himself for the pain he knew would be happening shortly. Here it comes. Sorry Lord Hector...I screwed up.
He felt someone place a device on one of his hands, fitting his fingers into different slot. Part of him wanted to open his eyes to see what it was, but he knew it was better not to even look. He felt each slot tighten, each finger getting slightly squeezed, held firm but not enough to actually hurt. Yet.
"Now," Crispin's voice began, "I know you're either a spy or an assassin. What I want to know is, in this order, who you're working for, what your objectives are, and what your connection to the Black Fang is. The sooner you give me this information, and the more detail you give it with, the less this is going to hurt. Fairly simple, yes?"
Matthew said nothing.
"So you work for no one and have no objectives?" Crispin sounded both unsurprised and quite bored, "Hmmm, no I'm afraid I don't believe that. One and four, three twists."
Someone adjusted the device on his hand, and Matthew felt the pressure on his thumb and ring fingers intensify. Now it hurt, but not so much he couldn't bear it. Doing his best to keep his breathing steady and simply zone out the pain, he wondered just how long he could last...and what other surprises were in store for him if this finger crusher didn't work.
The room was quiet for a few long moments before Crispin spoke again, "Still silent, regular breathing, you didn't even flinch at the tightening. You've been trained in basic interrogation resistance. Which makes it more likely that you're a spy instead of an assassin. However, there's only so much I can infer here so I'm afraid I have to repeat my earlier questions. Who do you work for, what are your objectives, and what connection do you have to the Black Fang?"
Still Matthew kept silent.
Again, Crispin ordered specific slots tightened and repeated his questions.
For...Matthew couldn't even guess how long, surely not nearly as long as it felt, they went back and forth like this. The pain grew worse, made harder to bear by each finger being squeezed a different amount so it felt like a medley of very specific individual instances of pain instead of just one large block. Once he could no longer stop himself from crying out, he stopped trying to stay silent and started lying. He claimed to work for Eturia, for the King of Bern, for some warlord on the Western Isles, even for Lord Uther at one point so that once he broke down completely maybe, just maybe, his connection to Ostia would have been discounted amid all the lies he had spilled.
Crispin sighed again, "I'm impressed, really. This is getting us nowhere. You're clearly a professional and I respect that. Which means you'll understand why I have to up the ante until I get the truth out of you."
Matthew couldn't respond. All he could do at this point was sob near uncontrollably, though he had no tears left and his voice was so hoarse it was barely audible.
He could still hear though, and years of training made him instinctively pay attention when he heard a door open and a new voice speak.
"Sir? The messenger is getting impatient."
Crispin responded with a bit of irritation, "Can we afford for him to wait until tomorrow? I may have more information to send then."
"I don't think so, sir. It's risky for him to stay long, and he says Dame Vaida wants your report as of yesterday."
Wait... that name cut through the haze in Matthew's mind. Vaida? He's working for Vaida? Then...that means HE's the Prince's spy! "Vaida..." he managed to force himself to croak out as he opened his eyes.
Crispin turned back to Matthew, "...you have something to say?"
"You work...for Vaida?"
Crispin didn't answer, but turned back to the soldier he was speaking with muttering, "I'll have the report ready in a few minutes."
"Grant!" Matthew latched onto the last desperate idea he had and used all of what was left of his strength to make sure he was heard, "If...you work for her...you know Grant. I'll talk to Grant."
The moment Matthew said that name, Crispin froze. Once more he turned to look at the man he had chained to the wall and asked in a voice that was completely flat and devoid of any inflections, "How do you know that name?"
"I'll talk to Grant. Or Vaida. Not you."
Crispin's eyes hardened, showing anger, showing some real emotion for the first time during all of this, and Matthew knew he had hit on something.
The soldier who came on behalf of the messenger broke the silence, "Sir?"
With a heavy sigh, Crispin adjusted his glasses and nodded, "I'll have the report ready soon. Tell the messenger he'll have two letters, one for Dame Vaida and the other for master Grant. And someone get him down from there and put in a secure cell."
As the soldiers moved to follow Crispin's orders, Matthew let himself stop struggling to stay awake. When his chains were released, he slumped down to the ground and passed out.
Author's Footnote: If the last bit of the chapter feels like a letdown, you're not the only one. I'll admit that I'm not happy about it and I may end up later editing it. But I definately feel like I should post what I have, even if I'm not happy with it. So hopefully it's enjoyable enough and if not, well, I may be coming back to touch it up eventually.