StarWind shook her head mirthfully and said, “I have to go into the Imperial Guard headquarters. Go down to the waterfront and snoop around the taverns. Try not to get in trouble,” she pleaded humorously.
StarWind watched Goral leave. She smiled inwardly and turned to approach the Campanil office of the Imperial Guard located in the center of the city. As she passed through the market area, she perused the wares and halted abruptly in front of a grain merchant’s stall. She shook her head with wonderment as she read the sign denoting the price asked for watula. She turned slowly, scanning the marketplace, and started reading the prices of other foodstuffs posted at the market stalls. She frowned as she realized that it was going to be a harsh winter for the residents of Campanil. The prices were so exorbitant that many would starve for lack of money to buy food.
StarWind watched the people as she walked further into the city and tried to catch fragments of conversation as she passed. Most of the fragments were normal city talk, but she caught the word “Sakovan” several times, which was very unusual for Omungan conversation. Undoubtedly, everyone blamed the Sakovans for the charred fields she had passed on her way into town.
StarWind passed from the market area into an area of fine shops and government buildings. Imperial Guards, resplendent in their gleaming white suits, were plentiful in this area, while the rich and powerful people of the city went about their business. The Red River ran through the city and there were several bridges over it in the Central District. Two of the bridges were located in a large park with tree-lined paths, which sat directly in the center of the city, and StarWind steered towards it. On one side of the park sat the home and palace of the Mayor of Campanil, on the opposite side was the stark stone building of the Imperial Guard Headquarters for the Campanil District. It was this impressive fortress-like structure that was StarWind’s first stop.
The Sakovan spymaster steeled her nerve, marched up the steps, and into the lion’s maw. The entrance lobby was a large open area with guards everywhere. Citizens and merchants were crowded around a long wooden counter on the far wall and StarWind recognized it as the place to register complaints or ask about permission for some endeavor or just inquiries in general. She took her place in the line waiting to speak and let her eyes travel around the room while she waited. There were two large archways on each end of the counter and each of the other walls of the room had doors. The walls were stark and bare, devoid of any embellishments. The floor was stone, and like the walls, empty. Most of the Imperial Guard traffic went through the archways or out the front door. There were no benches or chairs for people to sit on, not that anyone would want to loiter here, StarWind thought.
The line moved fairly quickly and StarWind could hear the people in front of her talking to the clerks behind the counter. The bare room seemed to echo voices and the din was constant. Most of the people in front of her were registering complaints about other citizens or travelers. One old woman complained that Sakovans had stolen her cat the night before and a merchant was asking for compensation for his goods ruined when the Imperial Guard searched his wagon. The clerks scribbled furiously, but their standard refrain was that it would be looked into. Most people were sent away with little satisfaction.
StarWind’s turn arrived and she approached a young male clerk. “I am searching for my brother,” she stated. “He left home two weeks ago to seek work in the fields surrounding the city during harvest and I haven’t heard from him since. I heard that the fields were burned and people died in the fire. I should have heard from him by now and I fear he may have been one of those lost in the blaze. Can you help me?”
“The bodies have already been buried,” the clerk replied. “Unless he had some marks that were very distinguishing, I am afraid it is impossible to say whether he was one of those lost or not.”
“He did have a scar on his leg,” fabricated StarWind. “A nasty wasooki wound when he was helping a neighbor herd the animals.”
The clerk shook his head and continued to scribble. He handed StarWind a slip of paper and pointed to the door on the left wall as he signaled for the next person to approach the counter. StarWind tried to make sense out of the note as she walked towards the door, but the scribble was indecipherable to her. She approached the door and the Imperial Guard stationed in front of it extended his arm for the note. StarWind handed it to him and he stared at it briefly before returning it to her and nodding that she could proceed through the door. She opened the door and stepped into a smaller room with benches for sitting and many doors leading to small offices. Another Imperial Guard approached her and looked at the note before directing her to a wooden door. StarWind opened the door and stepped into a cluttered office with an old man seated at the desk. She walked over to the desk and handed him the note without speaking. He squinted as he looked at it and finally put it on the desk atop a mess of papers lying there.
“Never can read that scribble,” he stated distractedly. “What is it you want?”
StarWind reiterated her tale of woe to the old man and he shook his head. “Not much luck finding him in this mess,” the man mumbled. “A leg scar you say? Lots of scars on the bodies and even a few tattoos, but I do not remember anything that resembled a wasooki horn puncture. You did say it was a puncture, didn’t you?”
“I guess it was a puncture,” StarWind conceded. “The animals horn gored his inner leg.”
“Nasty that kind of wound,” the old man said, ruffling the papers on his desk in search of something. “How old was he? Was he tall? Short? Fat?”
StarWind smiled inwardly at the old man. “He was only two years older than me,” she stated. “He was average height and build. He had hair similar to mine but not as wavy.”
“Hair won’t matter much,” the old man said as he snagged a pipe from under the pile of papers. He procured a striker and struggled to light it as he continued, “Hair burns too easily and the bodies were found in the fields that burned. Some weren’t burned too badly because the fire was swift, but hair doesn’t last long in a fire.”
“How many were killed?” StarWind questioned.
The old man managed to get his pipe started and puffed furiously on it. “Lots,” he said. “Over thirty at least. All men. Most of them had those darn stars imbedded in their backs. All sorts of stars. Four-pointed, six, even some with seven points. Savages those Sakovans. Probably dipped them in poison too.”
“It was Sakovans that attacked,” StarWind asked surprisingly. “I hadn’t heard that. How do they know? Did they see them? What do they look like?”
The old man stopped puffing on his pipe and looked at StarWind quizzically. “I don’t know,” he finally answered. “Good question that. I wonder what they do look like. Never seen a Sakovan. Would be interesting to take one apart and see what is different about them.”
“Well, were all of them identified by someone already?” StarWind asked. “The victims, I mean. Are there any who were not identified? Perhaps that would narrow it down some.”
The old man walked to a cabinet and extracted a large folder and brought it to the desk. He opened it and shuffled through the papers. A frown marred his owlish face as he read. “Only three were identified,” he mumbled. “Pretty small number for that many victims. Guess they were drifters.”
StarWind worked her way around the desk as she spoke. “I imagine some might be like my brother,” she offered, “coming to work the fields during harvest, but I would not think that would apply to all of them. This shows marks on a body,” she commented as lifted a paper out of the folder. “Is there one of these for each victim?”