"He doesn't trust my word, you mean," Tel muttered.
"You've been out here too long. You're starting to get paranoid."
Tel snorted, but didn't disagree. "You want unbiased? Fine. Let me show you what's been happening, and you can draw the same conclusions."
Jarod nodded, and then glanced around the diminutive office as if noticing it for the first time. The commander crossed the room in two steps, and plucked up a photograph from a shelf on the wall. Daron could see four men, barely out of their teens, grinning. It was covered in dust.
"How have you been, Tel?" Jarod asked, dropping the photograph and turning.
The rotund man shrugged, his face red and puffy. He swallowed the whiskey in a single gulp.
"Well enough, old friend. Well enough. Better now that you're here, truth be told." Tel settled back in his chair, the leather and wood groaning in protest. "It's taken Jacob damn near forever to bother sending anyone, but I trust you'll get to the bottom of this."
"The Lord Commander is a very busy man," Aiden said. If there was any inflection to correct Justice Tel's lack of honorific, Daron didn't hear it, but assumed it was there. Always a stickler for rules, Aiden was. "He sent us in the best time available."
Tel snorted. "The Lord Commander doesn't concern the Order with things that aren't of a direct nature to the gods. If I'd have claimed there was a school boy misinterpreting scripture, he'd have stuffed a gaggle of you onto the first boat heading west."
"As it should be," Aiden said. "That's why we have a king."
"I don't report to the king," Tel snapped. "I'm a Justice, not a court butterfly."
"In any case," Jarod said, holding up a staying hand, "he sent us to handle what you need."
"No use sitting around bickering," Tel said, nodding, and pushed himself to his feet with a grunt.
He led them back down and out of the store into the crowded streets once again. Breddon had been sent to find transportation, and a short time later a regal carriage with polished brass trim and intricate scrollwork upon the doors pulled to a stop before them, led by two magnificent horses. Tel tugged the door open, revealing the plush and meticulous interior with a slight flourish.
"This is quite a pricey toy you've got here," Daron noted as they rolled along the busy cobble road.
"I make decent enough money with the shop," Tel replied, his smile almost smug. "It's the second best clothier in the city."
"Not the first?"
"First is suspicious," Tel said, laughing. "Gets more scrutiny. Second best is still quite comfortable. All in all, it's been the best assignment I've had. Jacob might be ignoring my findings, but at least I'll retire to mountains of gold."
If Tel noticed that Leah wasn't actually a Justice, he gave no indication. He doubted the man missed much, and her lack of Oathblade and mismatched clothes were a fairly heavy indicator of her outsider status. She watched out one window next to Daron, thigh to thigh. He could feel the warmth radiating off of her, and didn't mind in the slightest.
If I hate cities, what must she feel? Daron thought. She'd hardly been away from the farm where she'd lived, and it sounded like the closest town was hardly more than an overgrown village. What must it be like to be surrounded by tens of thousands of people after spending half your life with just one?
"What can you tell us?" Brynn said, sitting on Daron's other side.
Tel mulled the question over. "It's been happening a bit in town now. Started in some of the outlying villages, but in the last month it's started happening in the city proper. They're keeping it fairly quiet, but word gets around anyway. That sort of thing tends to spread like fire in a field with the common folk. I don't want to temper your thoughts, though, so best to see it for yourself."
The carriage lumbered along the streets at a slow pace, merging with the general traffic. It was much more comfortable than trudging through the muck, Daron had to admit. If this was the sort of lifestyle being a Justice brought, well, he could live with that. He settled back against the cushioned seat with a satisfied sigh.
Aiden was watching Leah, his face expressionless. Was he thinking about turning her over to the authorities, now that they were in a town? It seemed a long time since he'd seen the jovial side to his friend. Moving from teaching at the Order into the world at large seemed to sit ill at ease with the man, and being thrust into a situation where he had to keep his feelings in check didn't seem to be helping. Maybe if there was time, he'd invite his friend out for a drink and explore the town. Not that Aiden drank much, but he still had a social side buried somewhere within.
The wagon rumbled to a stop before a large whitewashed stone wall, just barely taller than the top of their carriage. A double gate of wrought iron was closed and locked, with a single man in the town's blue and brown colors standing guard, a hefty pistol strapped to one hip and a sword to the other. A member of the town guard, and then.
They filed out before the gate, and Tel waddled over to the man, pressing something into the man's palm. Daron caught a flash of gold as the man pocketed it, unlocking unlocked the gate with a thick brass key. The guard took a few deliberate steps away, turning his head to face the other direction. Tel pulled the gate open with a grunt of exertion.
Beyond, Daron could make out even rows of stone jutting from the ground, thick writing chiseled into it. A graveyard. He suppressed a shiver as he passed into the grounds. The graveyard was on one edge of town, near the western gate, where it had once been outside the city limits quite long ago. Upper Terrin had eventually grown about it, consuming it as the urban sprawl spread.
Daron glanced around. There were dozens of open graves all about the place, dirt piled haphazardly to one side at each. It didn't look terribly recent, as it had dried and faded in color. Jarod stepped reverently around some markers to squat at the edge of one such opened grave, peering down intently.
"It's empty," Jarod said. He grabbed a handful of dirt from a few inches within the hole and let it drift through his fingers.
"There are thirty two in this graveyard that have been opened," Tel stated from where he leaned against the wall. "Twenty seven in another graveyard across town. One outlying village had every single marked grave ripped open." He eyed Jarod seriously. "I did not exaggerate in my reports to Jacob."
Jarod grunted noncommittally. He returned to the group, dusting off his hands and let his gaze wander about the serene setting before them. Daron was glad it was still a few hours to sunset. Not that he was superstitious, but there was something unhallowed about walking where they dead lay after dark.
"I'll want to see the ones outside of town as well," Jarod said, his voice grim.
"Of course. I'll have the wagon drop you off at Mediya. It's the farthest one that's been hit. About ten miles from Upper Terrin"
"Not coming with us?" Daron asked.
"I've business to attend to," Tel replied. "Jacob sent you all to tackle this. I'm just an observer, and will defer to the wisdom of your commander in this matter." He motioned to Jarod, and the two of them wandered off towards the carriage to talk in privacy. Aiden began to wander from empty grave to empty grave, frowning down at each vacant hole, brow furrowed in thought.
"What does it mean?" Leah whispered to Daron.
"Honestly, I'm not sure," he said. "Looking for valuables, or maybe ransom back to the family. Grave robbing is a serious offense, though. It's the sort of thing that will see you straight to final justice without a judge."
"Final justice?"
He stared at her for a moment. Apparently her limited schooling hadn't included fundamental laws, either. The way her uncle kept her hidden away on a farm, raised in darkness of knowledge a" there was something decidedly off about it all. What possible reason could the man have had for leaving her in the dark?
"Justice is of the gods," Daron said finally, searching for the words. He pulled a few from his hazy recollection of his old textbooks. "Only the Order, acting as the will of the gods, can take a life in retribution for crimes committed. It keeps the kingdom from having blood on its hands, and keeps mankind from the terrible burden of taking a soul."
"That's atrocious," she said, her eyes going wide. "And these executions are something you do?"
He wasn't sure if she meant him specifically, or the Order in general, but felt uncomfortable in her accusing gaze in either case.
"It's not something I've done, no," he said. "It's something any Justice can be called on to do by a town they're passing through, if criminals have been sentence as such. Sometimes a town will request a Justice be sent if there isn't one in town already. It's a part of what we do. We're called Justices because a large part of what we do is to make sure the justice of the gods is carried out. Usually that means arbitrating on disputes, or offering advice where needed, but occasionally it means an execution."
"You're okay with this," she accused. It was not a question.
"Honestly, no," he said, a little more hotly than he'd intended. "It's not something I relish the thought of doing, but it's necessary. If we let towns and cities carry out the execution, there's no accountability. It's something that only the gods should do."
"Or you."
"We represent the gods. They gave us the authority," he said. He paused, struggling to find the words. How could he explain it? It was something that was taken for granted by everyone else.
"So you say. Do the gods just pop over from the Eternal Hall and say 'Hello, it's time for you to take a life in my name.' then?"
"It's not like that."
"Oh? Then what is it like?" She took a step forward towards him, pulling her back up straight and looking him in the eye as well as she could. She was still a few inches too short. "You keep saying you're the 'will of the gods', but you don't seem to do be talking with them to get any direction that I've seen."
"I...," he paused, frowning. His mind went numb at her questions and the caustic tone in her voice. He wasn't even really sure he could explain it. It had been thousands of years since the Order had been established, had united the world and brought peace and civility. Didn't the evidence speak for itself?
"You're not so different from the men chasing me," she whispered, tears brimming in her eyes. "They're blindly following orders for money. You don't even have that excuse."
"I am different," he said. "I'm sworn to protect, and be a force for good. Whatever the reasons for that are, we make a difference." He took a step closer and put a hand on her arm. She tensed under it, turning her gaze away from him. "The difference is that I'm going to keep you safe, Order or not."
Leah nodded woodenly, though Daron could see she wasn't convinced. "Not that I need your protection," she said, a faint smile playing across her face. Her tone was lighter, though it sounded like she was forcing herself to sound cheerful. She blinked the tears away. "I'm a better with a sword than you."
She stepped away from his touch, and retreated into the carriage without another glance at him. He stood there, numb, unsure what to say or do.
"Well done," Brynn said from a few feet away. She'd seen the entire exchange. He felt himself blush. She watched him with quiet, judging eyes, and then shook her head. "Aiden's right. You're blind."
"Will everyone stop saying that?" he said irritably. Brynn patted him condescendingly on a shoulder.
"It's perfectly fine," she said softly. "I was trying to see things that weren't even there, I suppose. That's probably even worse. I'll always be your friend, Daron." She said it with slight emphasis on friend. She lingered a moment, and then left to join Leah, leaving him standing alone and thoroughly confused.
He shrugged, and wandered over to Aiden, who was peering intently at the carvings in a tombstone.
"Have you ever noticed," Aiden called, not bothering to look up, "that you only approach me after you've argued with one of the women?"
"I need some sanity to balance the crazy," Daron said, squatting down on the edge of the open grave. There was nothing within the jagged hole dug into the ground. Burial was common, though farther from the heart of the kingdom, people still stuck to burning the dead. These days, most just lit a candle in prayer for the departed souls, representing the pillar of flame that burned beneath the Order, the source of all life. Who would steal a body? It was an abomination.
"Plenty of crazy to go around," Aiden said, standing. He dusted his hands off and planted his hands on his hips, frowning at the desecration surrounding them.
"Any ideas?"
"Blackmail, maybe? There are a few graves here with fairly fancy markers. Maybe someone is trying to extort money by holding the body of a loved one hostage? Plenty of people feel that desecrating the body causes the soul unrest in the Eternal Hall."
"I was thinking the same, except, wouldn't they have made demands by now?" Daron scratched his head in thought. "Tel said it's been a while now."
Aiden grunted a weak assent. "People in some of the outlying provinces believe that a body can be animated, returning to haunt a family."
"Magic doesn't work that way, I thought."
"It doesn't," Aiden confirmed. "Hopefully we'll find a clue at one of the other sites. Some way to track whoever is doing this. I'm glad the Lord Commander put us on this one, though."
"Oh?"
"This is something worthy," Aiden said, nodding. "It's like you were saying to Leah. It's not all offering guidance and counseling."
Daron blushed. "You heard that?"
"The dead heard it," Aiden grinned. "Still, this is the sort of thing I signed up for. I don't leave my family alone so that I can tell some stuffy mayor that he needs to change his taxes."
"One of these days, you're going to have to show me your home."
Aiden's smile widened, showing Daron his old friend. "Maybe when we're done with this bit, I'll convince Jarod to let us head north."
Before Daron could respond, Jarod waved them over, having finished his conversation with Tel. Daron nodded to Aiden, and jogged back to the carriage, with Aiden close behind. With a final glance back over the desecrated graves, Daron tugged the door closed.
Leah didn't look up as the carriage began to rumble forward. Her gaze was distant, staring at nothing out the window, entirely lost in thought. He decided it was best to respect her silence, though a few times during the ride her copper eyes shimmered with tears that never quite fell.
Nearly an hour later the carriage shuddered to a halt a half mile outside the quaint village of Mediya. The area was thickly forested, a vast untouched expanse that covered the entire region south of Upper Terrin, coming to within a hundred yards of the city's walls in places. Not far away recently-harvested fields sprawled out into the distance, some still filled with effigies crafted of wheat, left in thanks to the goddess Naod in thanks.
"Don't get much call to come out here," the carriage driver said as they piled out. "Need me to wait around? Tel paid me to hold for a few hours and drive you back."
"We'll be fine, friend," Jarod said with a smile. "Head home early and keep the extra he paid."
"That I can do," the man laughed, tapping two fingers to his throat as he worked his team around and trundled off towards Upper Terrin. Daron glanced around. The sun was fading fast, and the darkness below the branches of the tangled and dense forest seemed to draw the light into it.
They set off on foot into the pressing darkness, though Daron's eyes adjusted quickly to the dim light. The road was straight and narrow, kept free of grass and rocks. They'd left their travel packs with Tel, who promised to find them a reputable inn for the evening.
He glanced at Leah, but she'd been silent towards him since their discussion in the graveyard. Would she leave them now that she'd discovered what he did? He hoped not, but he hadn't anticipated how she'd react to it. He hadn't given it any thought before. Everyone knew the way it worked, and despite her sparse education, he hadn't really thought she'd be ignorant of that too. He'd have to be more careful in the future.
They came to the village after a few minutes of hiking down the twilight path. It was rustic and familiar to him, devoid of electricity and built in a way much like his home town. For a brief moment a wave of powerful nostalgia washed over him, but he shook it away and focused.
No smoke drifted from any chimney. The village was a loose gathering of maybe two dozen buildings, circled around a clearing in the middle where a well and pump lay. Not a single person was visible, and the normal sounds of a village were absent, save a shutter banging lightly in the faint breeze. The hair on the back of his neck stood up, and he reflexively dropped on hand to his sword hilt.
Jarod held up a hand, bringing everyone to a halt. Moving slowly, he drew his sword. Everyone else did the same save Aiden, who produced a pistol instead of his customary blade.
Where were the townsfolk? Where were the dogs and livestock that would normally be meandering about a village like this? Daron forced his shoulders to relax, but couldn't shake a horrible feeling that was growing in the pit of his stomach. With a gesture, Jarod urged them forward.
They crept along with careful steps until they reached the village proper. Jarod slid up a few sturdy wooden steps and peered in the door that was left open to the elements. Beside the door a small copper disk had been nailed to the outer wall, a hammer etched onto it, asking Talo Tythos for skill at a craft. Daron separated from the group and headed for another building, likely someone's house, and was reassured when Leah fell into step beside him, her stance weary and ready for trouble.
The door was open here as well. He pushed, and it creaked inward. It was a small two room house, with hand crafted tables and chairs in the main room, a small kitchen beyond, and a doorway leading to what he figured were the sleeping quarters. The table had a few simple tin plates on them, flies buzzing around long rotted food upon them. The stench of bad meat hit him as he stepped through the threshold.
Leah nodded towards the next room, taking up a position on the other side of the door. Daron slid against the wall on the other side of the opening. Carefully she pushed it open, revealing a large bed, the handcrafted quilt upon it tucked neatly under the mattress. The room was undisturbed, save for a dark stain on the wooden floor, long since dried. Blood. A fair amount of it, too, and it looked as if something had been dragged through it towards the door.
He gestured to Leah with his head, and they withdrew back into the eerie village. It seemed someone was robbing more than just graves. An entire village, taken. He walked to the far side of town, opposite where they'd come in. It was hard to make out in the failing light, but the tall grass and fallen leaves there had a series of twin lines trampled through it, heading south.
"There's wagon tracks leading away," he told Jarod once they'd rejoined the group. No one else had found any signs of the villagers. A few signs of struggle, a small bit of blood, but nothing more. The sense of unease was growing. First bodies, and then villagers, Daron thought. A flash of anger coursed through him. Tel had been giving reports to the Lord Commander on this for weeks, perhaps months, and he'd just now bothered to send someone out to help?
With one last lingering glance around the village they set off, following the wagon tracks. The uneasy feeling Daron had in his stomach was growing with each step into the thick trees that loomed above them. He couldn't help but feeling they were out of their league. They were Justices, but whatever was going on was much more sinister than he'd anticipated encountering. He kept a careful eye out, hoping to spot trouble before it spotted them.
The tracks looked days old, but they had bent and mangled the grass enough that it was still easy to follow them. It was slow progress in the rapidly failing light, and soon twilight gave way to the blackness of night. Their pace came to a crawl, wary of roots and of making noise on the dried, fallen leaves.
Chapter 12.
Daron spotted the flickering pinpoint of light first, and called a halt to the party with urgency. They crept forward, moving from trunk to trunk, skulking forward and keeping an eye out for any sentries. They stopped a hundred yards from the light, and Jarod gave him the silent hand signal to investigate and report back. Either Jarod had actually read Daron's file and knew he'd spent much of his youth in the woods, or just simply chose at random. Spending time in the woods was a far cry from being an able tracker or having skills of stealth there, but he didn't complain. This was his first real chance to prove himself. With a quick prayer, he left the group behind.
Low to the ground, Daron slid through the bracken as quietly as he could, taking care not to crumple the fallen autumn leaves. As he got closer, he saw it was not one, but two campfires, surrounded by a few large canvas tents, one pavilion tent as large as some of the empty houses in Mediya.