Chapter Thirty-Two

‘Some came to think that the Wardens were nothing more than a myth. However, the stories were passed down and deaths, disappearances, and the unexplained was always rumored to be the work of the assassins.’ 

Caid relayed everything he knew to Pog and the others. Now he was chasing answers to questions he had not asked. 

“I know why Rawn and Maddog haven’t attacked yet,” Pog said.  

Caid looked up. “How do you know this?”  

Pog looked to the other wardens gathered around them. “You hear a lot in the taverns if you keep quiet and listen.”  

“Rawn had specifically said he was going to attack in a night, but it never came. You know why?” Caid asked.  

“I know why, and I may know when it will happen for sure,” he answered.  

Caid egged him on. “Well, don’t hold out, why hasn’t it occurred and when will it?” 

“The word on the streets and in the taverns is that Rawn has found out where the overseer is, and they plan to take him for themselves,” Pog answered.  

Caid felt nothing about the overseer. He had never met the man and knew little about his views, but he did know he wanted to keep him away from the Wardens. 

“What do they want with the overseer?” Caid whispered.  

“Same thing anyone would want with a captive ruler¾power and leverage,” he said.  

“Win!” Yelled one of the two men Pog had introduced as thugs from Parian.  

Creaton had joined in on a game Caid had never played. Creaton seemed to be enjoying himself, his earlier resignation had melted off his face. 

Caid turned back to the former wardens. “So, you said you also knew when?”  

Pog leaned back, looking to the others again. “We think we know when,” he amended his statement.  

“Well, think or know¾when is the thing happening?” Caid was losing patience. 

“We want to be in on this, Caid,” Pog said, staring him hard in the eyes.  

Caid knew he couldn’t do this alone. He needed as many people as he could find to rally.  

“I can agree to that.”  

Pog nodded and looked to the others surrounding the table who nodded along in agreement. “Well, in that case, it will be happening tomorrow night, and the location is the mines of Cros.”  

*** 

“Gotten what, exactly?” Creft was practically leaning over the oak desk. Alyn leaned forward, closer to him, her pupils contracted as if she had sniffed a line of Bofar.  

“Do you not even vaguely know the story of Ocryttus? It is a less popular telling in the religious circle,” Alyn said.  

 “I don’t know the name,” Creft said, “although I would wager you can tell me.”  

Alyn licked her lips.  

“That is a bet you could win, if you were a betting man,” she laughed and then drew back. “You are serious about hearing the story, then? You have to be open minded to understand it.”  

Was she toying with him? Creft sighed. He would have to let her lead the conversation. 

“What is it you can offer me again, Creft?” Alyn pulled papers out of her side drawer and not even bothering to look at him while she spoke.  

Creft knew there would be a bargaining chip laid on the table; he just hoped it would be further into what he needed. 

“I can offer you a clear conscience. You can rest easier tonight knowing you didn’t doom the city based on withholding information,” Creft said.  

He hoped that would be enough. Alyn was a scholar first, but she was also a seer, and even if he opposed her views, he could see she wasn’t stupid.  

“I suppose you believe you are better suited than I to challenge Pryce if it comes to that? You assume I couldn’t use my knowledge to help this situation?” She was still leafing through papers, but she glanced up at him, coaxingly. 

Creft leaned back. He had been in policy meetings, board meetings, meetings about meetings, and the rest of the works that had come with being a figurehead. That meant he had seen many tactics used in his day. He had seen men and women alike try the venom approach, where one slides in close enough to strike and then backs up far enough away to watch you die. He had seen the constriction method as well, someone getting close enough to you that, while you looked away, they could squeeze the life out of you. However, those two techniques where not usually people’s favorite methods, in politics, it was the I will itch your back once, for a trade of a lifetime supply of back scratches.” Creft sighed, people never gave anything away for free, and if you needed it, the price elevated even higher.  

“I understand¾” Creft started, but Alis put her hand out and placed it on his knee. Alyn missed the gesture, she was still rifling through the papers across her floor now. Creft stopped talking abruptly and Alis turned to face Alyn, who shot a glance at the sudden stop.  

“You were saying?”  

Creft’s lack of response seemed to have intrigued her. Alis waved her hand and drew Alyn’s attention to her.  

“I have a suggestion, and this is an easy trade. You continue to rummage through your papers, and we will go and save the day.” Alis stood, tapping Creft on the shoulder. He was confused what Alis thought she was doing, but she had proven herself trustworthy so far. He stood and turned his back to Alyn, who now stood too.  

“You will need my help, Creft,” she yelled.  

Suddenly, Creft was even more confident in his decision to follow Alis. Alyn might be able to help, but she would take a ransom from him. If he stepped outside the university, he wouldn’t lose her knowledge; he just bought himself time to figure out how to pry the information from her grasp.  

Alis moved to open the door and Alyn yelled again, “There is no way for you to find out anything without me.”  

Alis opened the door and gestured Creft out into the hallway.  

“You have a wonderful day,” Alis said, then she proceeded to shut the door to Alyn’s office.  

As soon as he heard the latch, Creft threw up his hands. “What was that all about?”  

Alis laughed, fishing in her bag for a moment. Creft looked at her with confusion, but she just continued laughing. Finally, she pulled something from inside her bag. It was a book and as she flipped it over, he saw the title.  

Judge of the Nine Wardens.  

*** 

Caid left the ship, trying not to fall as his legs hit the solid ground of the pier. Creaton came up beside him as if the walking surface hadn’t just dramatically changed beneath them. He counted coins he had won during the dice game with Boog and his crew of misfits. Caid had left the meeting, telling Pog to meet him in Cros at the entrance of the mines the next evening. They would have plenty of time to scope out the area during the day, and then they would come together to plan before the activities started.  

“I think we should visit this place more,” Creaton said as he stuffed the coins into the front pocket of his shirt.  

“They wanted to kill you,” Caid reminded him.  

Creaton seemed not to care much anymore about that. “Not everyone wanted to kill me in there. Well, maybe after a few rolls of the dice everyone did, but not at first,” he laughed.  

Caid started to walk, having gotten his equilibrium back under control. There was a lot to think about now, after the conversation with the other wardens. He also wondered what it was Creft found so important that he traveled across the city to speak with Alyn.  

“While you were playing games with bandits¾” Caid started.  

Creaton stuck his hand into the air, to silence Caid. “Never said they were bandits. They are filthy scum, thugs, and bullies, but I don’t think they would ever rob carts on the roads for coin,” Creaton corrected him with a wry smile.  

Caid shook his head. “Yes, well, the scum thugs¾” Creaton cut him off a second time.  

“I think they could probably market that type of name. The Scum Thugs or Boog and the Scum Thugs.” Creaton stopped talking when Caid’s eyes turned threatening. “Just a joke,” Creaton finished.  

“Well, as hilarious as you seem to be, Creaton, there are plenty of other things that should be garnering our attention. Like, for one, Pog told me that the Wardens had not attacked yet because they knew the location of the overseer, or at least, they will know it for tomorrow night.”  

Caid bumped into a rather bulbous man and his escort for the night, neither of them offering a hint of deference for others on the pathway.  

“How did Pog know this?” Creaton asked, receiving a bump from the man as well.  

“I told you people are loose lipped in the taverns,” Caid replied.  

Creaton scrunched up his face. “Odd, isn’t it? I mean, a warden hanging out with common criminals?”  

Pog had done what he had thought was best for himself, whatever he thought would keep him alive, even if Caid disagreed with it.  

“Pog was abandoned by the Wardens as well. I don’t know what would be common for someone like us; it isn’t often that something like this happens. Plus, look at me,” Caid nodded toward Creaton, “Here I am with the Envoy who tried to kill me, a young slave girl, and a seer who I don’t give two winks about. We take what we are given, and we work with it to the best of our abilities.” He said the words mostly to make Creaton feel that Caid was in control.  

In reality, Caid was just as lost as everyone else. The situation was completely unprecedented, and he doubted that anyone else had any real answers either. He would do what he thought was best and he would see it through until the end, one way or the other.