The clang and ring of swords vibrated through the air. Janco moved to an internal cadence, testing the youth’s skills.
“He’s green and likes to preen.” Janco feinted high and attacked low. Rye failed to take the bait, blocking Janco’s strike. “Tends to brag and his feet do lag. Soon he’ll be in a body bag.” After a quick secession of jabs, he lunged.
Rye tripped as he shuffled back. Pressing his advantage, Janco stalked the greenie as he rolled away. The scimitar blurred with motion, keeping Janco at bay while the puppy regained his feet. Impossible.
“He’s old yet bold. Soon he’ll be turning into mold,” Rye sang.
How dare he! Janco increased the pace of his attack.
The fight lengthened until the light faded. Finally, Ari called the match a tie. Janco panted, staring at the greenie. It has been years since Janco failed to get past an opponent’s defense at least once. He was impressed, annoyed and furious all at the same time.
“Interesting,” Ari said. “Come back tomorrow. I want to see how you do against me.”
“Prepare to lose, sir.” Rye saluted and swaggered toward the barracks.
Ari clamped down on Janco’s shoulder before he could chase after the insolent puppy.
Unable to break his partner’s vice-like grip, Janco said, “He needs a good beating.”
“I doubt he would get it from you,” Maren said. She swiped blond hair from her gray eyes. “It was only a matter of time before he disarmed you.”
He sputtered in outrage when Ari agreed with Maren. “Back stabber. Disloyal—”
“Be quiet, Janco. I won’t be able to beat him either. Did you see how the scimitar moved?”
He closed his mouth and reviewed the match. Rye’s gawky jabs and clumsy footwork didn’t jive with the weapon’s lightening fast reactions and smooth counters. “The sword has a mind of its own.”
Maren laughed. “Only you would think that. Ari’s implying our greenie may be a magician and a spy from Sitia.”
Which would explain the Sitian weapon and his darker skin tone. “You’d think he would have disguised himself better.”
“May be a spy. ‘May’ being the key word.” Maren looked at Ari. “What’s next?”
“Hey,” Janco said. “How come you always ask him? He’s just the muscle. I’m the brains of this outfit.”
She ignored him. “Ari?”
“Can you do a little research into Rye’s background? Find out where he’s from and who his family is?”
“No problem.”
“Janco, I want you to follow the greenie around. See who his friends are and watch what he does with his free time.”
“Why do I get to baby-sit?” No answer. “Wouldn’t it look strange if I start hanging out at the barracks?”
“Good point.” Ari considered.
“That’s what I’ve been telling you people. Brains and brawn, I’m a talented guy.”
“Modest, too,” Maren muttered.
“Inventory is due and an annual maintenance inspection. That should be good cover.” Ari nodded as if the discussion was final.
Janco groaned, counting supplies and looking for splinters was drudge work. He brightened only when he imagined himself discovering a plot and single-handedly stopping the spies from carrying out their nefarious deeds.
“… listening?” Ari’s annoyed tone cut through his daydreams. “I said you’ll want to recruit a helper to watch Rye at night. I’ll check Valek’s files, I’m sure he has one of his intelligence operatives assigned to listen for any trouble in the barracks.”
“Why don’t we just use him the whole time?”
Maren huffed. “Brain Boy can’t figure it out. It’s called sleep. Everyone has to do it sometime.”
He drew a breath to retort, but Ari silenced him with a warning look. Grumbling, he trudged back to the castle to bathe, change clothes and eat dinner. It would take Ari a while to ferret out the operative’s name, so Janco headed to the barracks to baby-sit the greenie overnight.
Doing inventory would be high entertainment compared to watching a man sleep. Rows of bunk beds lined the entire first floor of the wooden barracks. The officer’s bedrooms were located on the second floor, but since Ari and Janco’s promotion to Valek’s seconds, they had rather extensive rooms in the castle.
Aside from the snores, coughs and creaks of floorboards from soldiers either leaving for or coming back from guard duty, the night remained uneventful.
Upon reflection, the early morning hours had been too quiet. There had been a lack of… substance. It was the best word to describe those hours, but he knew Ari wouldn’t understand. Ari would be too busy berating him.
Because when the substance returned, Rye was gone.
CHAPTER THREE
Ari searched through Valek’s files. He muttered under his breath about his boss’ total disregard for alphabetical order. Although the files were probably organized in a secret way only Valek could decipher, knowing there was a method to the madness didn’t help Ari. Since Valek wouldn’t be back for a few weeks, it was up to him to comb through the piles, looking for information about Rye.
Maren’s review of the garrison’s commanding officer records failed to produce any details on the greenie besides his home Military District.
Why did trouble always come from MD-5? Ari wondered. The district had a bad reputation since General Brazell was caught trying to overthrow the Commander. And now Rye had transferred in from MD-5 last season.
A knock interrupted Ari’s musings. “Come in.”
Maren entered Valek’s office. “Have you been here all night?”
He glanced out the window in surprise. The sun hung a few inches over the horizon. “Guess so.”
“Find anything?”
“No.”
“Want help?”
“Sure. I’ve looked through all the piles on the floor and the left side of the conference table. Why don’t you search his desk?”
She wove her way through the heaps of books and stacks of papers with an athletic grace. Gray-colored rocks weighed down every pile. Valek was a classic pack rat. Ari shook his head. Trained as a soldier and scout, Ari learned to keep his minimal possessions packed in a small rucksack in case he needed to leave in a hurry.
The rustling of paper and tangy scent of ink filled the room. Ari and Maren worked for an hour in companionable silence—a rare and soothing break from Janco’s constant chatter.
“Found it,” Maren said. She hefted a thick dossier.
“Good.” Ari eyed the size of the file. “How old is he?” He joined her at Valek’s desk.
She flipped it open and scanned a few pages. “Twenty. But Valek has been keeping tabs on him since he reached puberty.”
“Is he a magician?”
“No evidence found.” Maren sorted through the papers. “Although Valek suspects Rye’s father is originally from Sitia’s Moon Clan and he might have been spying for Sitia.”
“Have been?”
“He disappeared four years ago while on patrol. Rye’s family lives near the Sitian border and his father was a border patrolman.”
The man could have been involved in illegal border crossings. “Anything else?”
“Rye’s father has either returned to Sitia or was a victim of foul play. No evidence to suggest either one. Rye is an only child. Valek assigned one of his men to keep an eye on him and his mother. No suspicious activities in the last four years. And when Rye enlisted, Valek had him transferred to the Commander’s garrison.”
Ari considered the information. Perhaps the greenie’s father was a smuggler and stole the scimitar from Sitia. It’s possible the Sitians discovered it missing, waited for the father to return to Sitia, and killed him. “Did Valek interview the mother and son?”