His sister shook her head. “Not every problem can be solved by shifting into a sneaky shape.”
Most can, though.
Their conference had ended shortly after that, and the next morning, his head aching only slightly, Petur had led a six-person squad of his best shifters south. It felt good to get out of Delomar and back on the road; court affairs had taken up too much of his time recently. Petur thrived on work, not performing empty pleasantries toward their nobles and any visiting embassies. He knew his strengths, and putting forward an inoffensive demeanor wasn’t one of them.
Still, as welcome as the time on the road was, it was nice to arrive at Veshay, the largest of the towns which had reported raiding and wreckage thanks to the attacking mages. Perhaps tonight he’d sleep in a proper bed and—
Proper bed? Listen to yourself.Triple gods, he’d gone soft. Petur silently resolved to say nothing at all of potential comforts and instead, dismounted from his horse and waited for the boldest villager to approach him. It took several minutes and a good deal of furtive muttering from the gathering crowd, but eventually, a gray-haired woman with a carefully welcoming expression on her face stepped forward.
“Greetings, Your Highness,” she said, curtseying once she was within five feet of him. “Welcome to Veshay. My name is Mistress Glenanne. What can our humble town offer you?”
So, she recognized the royal seal dangling from the chain around his neck. This woman was well educated for a villager. “I think, Mistress,” he replied, making an effort to warm his voice, “that the real question is, what can we do for you?”
A little puzzled frown crossed her forehead. “I—I don’t recall sending word asking for anything from the capital, sire, much less anything that would require your august presence.”
Petur did his best to hold onto his impatience. “Have you not suffered from raids for the past month?” he asked. “Have there not been two of your people killed, and more injured? Have you not had to take in numerous merchants traveling this road and nurse them back to health?”
“We have, sire, but—” Mistress Glenanne paused, then gathered herself. “Where are my manners? Would you and your company care to join me in my home for refreshments? My sons will tend to your horses while you relieve yourselves.”
“An excellent idea,” Petur said. He turned to his troop and motioned them down but pointed at Lise, one of the most experienced warriors traveling with him. “Do a survey from above,” he said. “Ensure that all’s well.”And see what truths you can glean that they might not want to share.
“Aye, sir.” Lise nodded once, then briskly shed her clothes, stuffing them into the saddlebags as she went. The moment she was fully nude, she shifted into her animal shape—a snowy white owl—and launched soundlessly into the air, quickly vanishing over the rooftops.
“Oh,” the headmistress said, surprise and a bit of awe clear in her voice. Petur resisted the urge to smile; most Riyalians didn’t have the intrinsic ability to shift shape that was required of hiselite troops even though it was what their people on the whole were known for across the continent.
“Please,” he said with a polite smile. “Lead on.” He took his horse’s reins and followed her, then passed his mount off to a starry-eyed young man who barely even paid him any heed, he was so taken with Petur’s horse. The rest of his troop followed suit, and soon they were inside, sitting on surprisingly elegant wooden chairs and accepting mugs of small beer from the town’s headmistress. The beer was surprisingly good.
Once she’d served them, Mistress Glenanne pulled over the stool that was perched by the butter churn, sat down, took a pull from her own mug, then said, “To be frank, sire, we haven’t been troubled by any magic-users for the past ten days.”
Hmm. After he’d left the capital, so he wouldn’t have known, but … “Did you hire mages of your own to fight back, or did they simply move on?” Either answer carried a degree of risk for the headmistress. If she’d hired mages to fight back, then she was utilizing a tactic that, though not forbidden, wasn’t well regarded across Riyale either. But if the raiders had moved on, when the town still appeared so hale and full of value, it meant they’d likely bribed them to do so, which would be another sort of condemnation.
“Neither,” she replied, which surprised him. “We, and Trieste and Gorrivan, banded together to hire Silver.”
They … what? “You paid someone in silver?”
She chuckled and shook her head. “No, sire—well, we did do a partial payment in silver, but in truth that’s the man’s name. What he goes by, at least. Silver.” She set her mug aside and folded her hands in her lap, looking as prim and proper as could be.
“A mercenary?” Petur hazarded.
“Just so.”
“A group of them or …”
“One man, sire. But gods of sea and sky, he gets the job done!” Mistress Glenanne slapped her thigh in appreciation. “We were getting desperate; I was this close to sending someone to Delomar to beg for assistance, but Silver swore he could handle it. I figured we ought to try him first since he was here.” Her smile was a mixture of pleasure and satisfaction—at a job well done, Petur assumed. Her next words confirmed it. “Just three days and nights and he managed to drive them back from all our towns. Brought us their heads to confirm the kills too. He took out half a dozen of the bastards.”
One man.Oneman had done this. Petur’s incredulity must have been clear because she added, “I know it sounds strange, sire, but hand to the gods it’s the truth. I never saw another person in Silver’s company, and he only asked for enough provisions for one.”
That didn’t necessarily mean the man was working alone, but … “What was his fee?”
“Five silver pieces, fifteen copper bits, two chickens, a pound and a half of dried beef, three pounds of travel bread, three pounds of dried peas, and a sachet of healing herbs.”
“What herbs?”
She rattled off a list that included none of what Petur would have expected if the mercenary in question was a shifter. Powdered asperil for infection, cold cream for rashes, willowroot for aching muscles … these were common remedies for common people, not shifters. Not the sorts of things that were easily enhanced by magic, either, which made him think it wasn’t another mage hunting down these rogues.
Curious, curious indeed. It wasn’t impossible that an unenhanced person could successfully kill a mage, but to kill more than one, when the group was undoubtedly on their guard, and survive with enough ease to even think of removing their heads … There had to be more to the explanation.
“I do hope we haven’t offended you, sire.” The headmistress’s voice was carefully apologetic. Clearly, she didn’t regret hiring an unknown mercenary to handle her problem, but she didn’t want to get in trouble for it either.
