“Not brothers in blood,” he said, “but men I considered brothers.”
“I was stationed far from Vathirond, but I have cousins who fought there,” Niam said. “I have heard it described as one of the bloodiest engagements of the last two decades. A true test of loyalties. Thrane, Cyre, and Breland in a battle for survival. Did you know many Cyran soldiers?”
“Some,” Zed said. “Vathirond isn’t something I like to think about.”
“Of course,” Niam said. “The Five Nations have become difficult for men such as you and I. It is difficult to find a place. The quest for new purpose in a world at peace can be elusive. My associates and I specialize in helping former soldiers renew their purpose.”
“Are you mercenaries?” Zed asked.
“A coarse term,” Niam said. “Mercenaries fight for profit. Our goals are greater. Most of us are former Cyrans, but there are a few like yourself-brothers in arms from distant nations.”
“Sounds interesting,” Zed said.
Niam glanced around, blinking rapidly as he spoke. “I can say little more,” he said. “In these times the Five Nations become nervous when they hear of Cyrans taking up arms. I pray only that you do not discount my offer for its clandestine nature. My brethren and I have learned that men without a nation must value caution. Even so, I assure you our cause is a noble one.”
“Of course,” Zed said. “As I said, it sounds interesting.”
“If you are interested in employment, you should visit my offices,” Niam said
“We could go now, if you like,” Zed said, hoping to put Niam off-balance so that he might reveal something.
“That isn’t necessary,” Niam replied, wrinkling his nose. “You are quite obviously exhausted after your night in prison. You should rest. You can meet with us this afternoon, after you’ve cleaned yourself. Our offices are on the corner of Carver Street and Oak Lane.”
Zed nodded. He realized, with some embarrassment, that he still stank of rum.
“I’ll be there,” he said.
“Excellent,” Niam said. “I shall inform my associates of your impending arrival.” He tipped his wide-brimmed hat. “Good day.”
Zed tapped his temple in informal salute as the thin man strode off down the street. He scanned the streets as Kenrickson left. Where was Eraina? She would have come to help him by now, or at least to gloat over his arrest. He found her sitting at a table outside a small restaurant with a view of the prison. She sipped from a small cup as she watched him approach. He saw that his sword was leaning against the table, near the seat across from her.
“Good morning,” she said as he took the seat. “You smell terrible. Like you’ve been doused in alcohol.”
“I have been,” he said.
“I thought you didn’t drink,” she said.
“I don’t,” Zed said, pouring himself a cup of water. “Just doused myself in it. Literally. I spilled some rum on my hair and my shirt before I attacked the knights. I figured they would be a less likely to kill me if they just thought I was an angry drunk.”
“Convincing disguise,” she said.
“I’ve had a lot of practice,” he answered, taking a deep drink of the icy water. He had to get out of these clothes. The smell reminded him too much of years better off forgotten. “How long have you been here, Eraina?”
“A little while,” she said. “I followed the undertaker.”
“Were you going to leave me in prison?” he asked.
“You asked me not to interfere,” she said, smiling softly. “So I didn’t. I assumed everything that happened was exactly as you planned.”
Zed grunted sourly and set his cup back on the table. “Not exactly,” he said. “I’m surprised you went along with it.”
“I treasure my vow of honesty,” she said, “but I have come to recognize that allies not similarly bound can operate with a greater degree of flexibility. If you had told me what you planned to do, I might have stopped you.”
“Well, thank you for trusting me, Eraina,” Zed said. “That means a lot.”
She flushed slightly, returning her gaze to her cup. “The results don’t change the fact that your plan was ridiculous,” she said. She set her cup aside and leaned back in her seat. “You were very lucky. You had no guarantee that your performance was going to provoke any sort of useful reaction.”
“We were out of leads,” he said. “It was worth a try. The town square is busiest that time of day. I had the greatest chance of being seen by someone connected to Marth.”
“If those guards had been a bit more zealous, they might have killed you,” Zed said.
“Might have,” Zed admitted. “I brought up Vathirond for a reason. That was a day that blackened the image of the knights for a lot of people. I thought mentioning it so loudly in front of so many witnesses would have made things a little less likely to get bloody.”
“It was still a gamble,” she said.
“I’m alive,” Zed said, shrugging. “I admit, I wouldn’t have tried it if I knew Draikus was their commanding officer. I think he had the town watch standing ready, waiting for me to do something stupid.”
“Your reputation precedes you?” Eraina asked, chuckling.
“I’m serious, Eraina,” Zed said, annoyed. “You know being recognized doesn’t help us at all. Marth knows who we are. Draikus knows I’m working with you. If Niam knows I came here with a Sentinel Marshal, especially one that’s hunting Marth on a murder charge, we’re going to have a lot of trouble. We might have a lead, but it turned out messier than I would have liked. Pursuing this is going to be tricky.”
“We knew this would be dangerous,” Eraina said.
“I wish the others were here,” Zed said. “As comfortable as I am working alone, it’s been good having them to back me up.”
“Agreed,” Eraina said.
“So what did you find out while I was in jail?” he asked.
“The Kenricksons have a wagon full of coffins outside their office,” Eraina said. “They’re loaded with dry rations and other supplies.”
“Coffins?” Zed said. “Smart way to sneak a lot of supplies out of the city without drawing any attention. Nobody is going to search a load of corpses.”
“I’m amazed no one would notice,” Eraina said. “The Kenricksons have to be moving out a lot more coffins than there are people dying in Nathyrr.”
“I think after the Last War, most people are perfectly happy not counting the dead,” Zed said. “Especially this close to the Mournland. Incidentally, Niam Kenrickson is a Cyran veteran. He was interested that I fought at Vathirond.”
“One of the last battles where Thrane knights and Cyran soldiers fought side by side,” Eraina said.
Zed nodded. “He wants me to go to his offices today. I think he intends to recruit me.”
“Or kill you,” Eraina said. “Depending on how much he knows about you.”
Zed took another drink, acknowledging the possibility with a deep nod.
“You don’t have to meet him,” she said. “We know the undertakers are up to something now. We just have to find out where they’re taking the coffins.”
“But who knows when they plan to deliver that wagon?” Zed said. “If I don’t show up for our meeting, they may get skittish and postpone their delivery. Worse yet, they may warn their superiors that someone has been poking around. That isn’t even entertaining the chance that the Kenricksons aren’t connected with Marth and this is another dead end.”
“And we’ve simply stumbled over a ring of Cyran morticians smuggling beans into an uninhabited forest?” Eraina asked. “You’re giving yourself too much time to think about this, Zed.”
“I guess I’m letting my cautious nature get the better of me,” he said. “It happens when I spend too much time talking. I over-analyze things.”
“Then let’s get moving,” she said, rising and tossing a few coins on the table. “You have a meeting to attend. And you really need to bathe.”
SIX
Tristam sat up in his bunk, adjusting to the unfamiliar feeling of a clear head. He hadn’t had a full night’s sleep since … how long had it been? It had to have been when the Mourning Dawn arrived in New Cyre. At first he’d been too nervous about the journey through the Mournland and finding the Dying Sun to get any real rest. During their time in Metrol, repairing the airship took up most of his time. After fleeing the city, he became obsessed with keeping Omax alive until he had spread himself so thin that his body would endure no more. He’d grown used to having a pounding headache, burning hunger, and blurry vision. A bit of sleep had cured everything but the hunger. It felt almost strange to feel normal again.