Grand Game 393: While I was Away (Patreon)

Gamil’s shop hadn’t changed in the intervening weeks. The same could not be said for the rest of the city, though.

Squads of soldiers patrolled the streets, and what few civilians moved about, did so quickly and furtively. I drew the attention of more than one passing patrol, but my uniform and officer’s insignia were enough to ward them off, and I reached my destination unmolested.

Sitting in the shadows of an alleyway, I studied the building on the opposite side of the street. There were no customers within, only a lone figure pottering in the backroom. Gamil. The old shopkeeper was Elron’s friend and had helped me find the marshal once. I was hoping he would do so again.

Activating the sorcerer’s coif, I re-inspected the surroundings but failed to spot any wards. I had no reason to suspect a trap, but the changes in the city had me on edge. Something was wrong in New Haven, and as yet, I wasn’t sure what.

I glanced down both directions of the street. No one was in sight. Kicking off from the wall against which I rested, I marched purposely toward the shop. Anyone watching would think me just another soldier about his orders. At the entrance of the antique bazaar, I paused again and altered my face.

You have cast facial disguise, assuming the visage of Taim.

Ready, I turned the doorknob and slipped into the shop. “Gamil?” I called softly.

The shuffling in the back room stopped. “Who is it?” the shopkeeper asked, his voice thin and wavering.

“Taim.”

Silence followed as Gamil processed my response. My answer had no doubt startled him. It was not every day a hunted fugitive openly announced his presence, after all.

Making no move to advance further into the room, I watched the shopkeeper with my mindsight, wondering if he would bolt. If he did, I would make my escape, but I was gambling Gamil wouldn’t.

The last time I’d seen the old man, I had been open about my run-ins with the city council and the possessed, and it hadn’t seemed to bother him any. With any luck, his attitude hadn’t changed.

Footsteps shuffled closer, and a moment later, a hunched-over shape yanked back on the curtains separating the backroom from the main floor. “So,” Gamil mused, studying me through watery eyes. “It is you.”

I nodded.

“That explains it, then.”

My brows crinkled. “Explains what?”

The old man gestured at the door. “The new madness infecting New Haven. It’s all you’re doing.”

“I’ve only just arrived in the city,” I objected.

“So?” Gamil sniffed. What does that have to do with anything?” Before I could respond, he went on, “Didn’t you cause enough mischief the last time?”

“What happened wasn’t my fault,” I protested. “At least not entirely. The possessed were as much to blame. If they hadn’t tried to capture me—”

“You’re right, of course,” Gamil interjected. He sighed. “Forgive me. I’m just irritable and tired. My words were uncalled for. But this latest nonsense… it’s upsetting.” Turning around, he ambled back the way he came. “Follow me,” he called over his shoulder. “I’m guessing you’re not here to shop. Let’s talk in the back.”

Wordlessly, I trailed after the shopkeeper and caught up to him just as he was lowering himself into a chair. “Sit,” he said, pointing to another chair with his cane.

I sat.

Resting his hands on top of the cane, Gamil studied me. “Tell me why you have come.”

“I want your help,” I said quietly.

One corner of his lips twitched. “I gathered as much. What do you need?”

“Information, primarily,” I replied. “Tell me what’s going on in the city?”

Gamil sat back, one eyebrow lifting. “You don’t know?”

I shrugged. “I don’t. I wasn’t exaggerating when I said I just arrived, you know.”

The shopkeeper grunted. “Well, it’s nothing good. Martial law has been declared. New Haven has been in lockdown since two days ago.”

Two days? That was interesting timing. “But why lock down the city?”

It was Gamil’s turn to shrug. “I have no idea.”

I frowned, hardly able to credit that.

Seeing my look, the shopkeeper added, “I saw the decree myself. It bore the council’s seal and was signed by Cilia, but no reasons for the orders were given.”

“And you still accepted them?” I asked skeptically. “The populous too? A city full of people just upped and locked themselves away on the council’s say-so?”

Gamil snorted. “You seem to have forgotten where we are, boy. We live in a dungeon. Attacks are a regular occurrence, and sometimes the only way to stay alive is to hide. So, when the council orders you to stay at home and lock your doors, you do.”

“Hmm.” I wasn’t entirely convinced but conceded Gamil had a point. After centuries, it wouldn’t be hard to train a scared populous into unquestioning obedience. “So, people believe the order is for their own safety?”

Gamil nodded.

I rubbed my chin in thought. “You said Cilia signed the decree. What about the rest of the council? Were their names on it too?”

“No. Only her name was on the decree—which is strange admittedly. As for why the rest of the council didn’t cosign the order, I don’t know. There’s been no news from the central fortresses since all this began.”

It was another ominous sign, especially since both Elron and I considered the dark elf, Cilia, to be our biggest enemy on the city council. I leaned forward. “And what about the marshal? Where is he?”

“Under house arrest.”

I blinked. “What? He’s been arrested. Why?”

Again, Gamil shrugged. “I can’t say, I’m afraid. Elron’s arrest is not common knowledge, and I only managed to find out that much because… well, let’s just say, I know people. But as to the reason for his arrest, I haven’t managed to uncover that.”

“But why house arrest?” If the council—or Cilia—were going to imprison Elron, I would’ve thought they’d want him to see him secured in New Haven’s deepest, darkest dungeon.

Gamil chuckled. “This is the high marshal we’re talking about, son. His soldiers may be willing to do the council’s bidding, but only up to a point. I suspect if it became common knowledge that their commander had been thrown in jail, the council would have a revolt on their hands.”

“I see.” I bit my lip. “I assume they’re holding Elron in his house in the southern part of the city?”

“That’s right.”

I rose to my feet. “Then, I guess it’s about time I rescued him.”

✵ ✵ ✵

I didn’t leave Gamil’s shop immediately.

According to the old man, the daily curfew was about to be lifted and the city’s citizens allowed to walk the streets again, if only for a short period, and under the watchful eye of the patrolling soldiers.

Better to wait, I decided. I will be less conspicuous in a crowd.

“What will you do when you find Elron?” Ghost asked.

It was a pertinent question, and I wasn’t sure of the answer myself yet. “I don’t know. Help him takeover New Haven, maybe. Or flee.” I sighed, then conceded. “Or I might do nothing. Time will be the deciding factor.”

Three days. That was how long I was willing to remain in the city. If Elron’s problems required more time to resolve, they would have to wait. I only hoped that if it came to that, I could make the marshal understand I wasn’t abandoning him. I would return when time permitted—after I’d seen the wellbeing of my other allies.

Reminded of my timetable, I looked out of the antique shop’s glass-paned windows. People had begun to trickle onto the streets. None appeared at ease, though, and even as they hurried about their business, most cast uneasy glances at the hovering soldiers.

“If you’re waiting for it to get busier, I should warn you—it doesn’t,” Gamil said.

I glanced over my shoulder at the old man. “It doesn’t?” I asked slightly disbelievingly. While there were a few people on the streets, the crowds I had observed on my first visit to the city were absent.

He shook his head. “It doesn’t.” Seeing my expression, he added, “People are afraid. Most can sense trouble in the air, and no one wants to get up in that, not if they can help it.”

I nodded slowly. It looked like my waiting was over. Turning around, I shook his hand. “Thank you, again.”

Gamil shrugged. “Thank me by saving Elron.”

“I’ll do that,” I said and slipped out of the shop.

Imitating the other stragglers on the street, I bowed my head and shoved my hands in my pocket. Then I hurried southward, as if on important business.

Two streets away from the old man’s shop, and out of the immediate line of sight of the closest squad of soldiers, I reset the illusion wrapped about me.

You have cast facial disguise, assuming the visage of Egan.

Your deception has reached rank 17.

Keeping to the shadows, I made my way through the city. The crowds never thickened, but the guard patrols certainly did. New Haven’s southern districts were especially fraught with soldiers, leading me to believe that this region of this city was more problematic than others.

Still, despite the heavy military presence, I reached my destination unhindered. The marshal’s house was dead ahead, only a hundred yards away. Slowing my steps, I lifted my head and ran my gaze across the surroundings.

The place swarmed with soldiers.

Squads stood guard at every intersection, with soldiers looking both inwards and outwards as they searched for threats. More than one gaze fell upon me, and despite my officer’s badge and soldier’s uniform, suspicion clouded the face of some sergeants.

Multiple unknown entities have failed to pierce your disguise.

This won’t do, I thought.

It was only a matter of time before one of the soldiers took it upon themselves to wonder why a lieutenant was wandering the streets alone and decided to question me.

Reaching the next crossroads, I turned left, and out of sight of the marshal’s jailors. My disguise wasn’t going to get me through Elron’s door.

I would have to find another way to reach him.

✵ ✵ ✵

Twenty minutes later, I was sitting in the shadows of a narrow alleyway one street over from the marshal’s house. I was not alone, however.

Multiple hostile entities have failed to detect you! You are hidden.

Two squads of guards occupied the alley with me, one on either end of the street. Together, they effectively blocked off entry or exit from the alley. I had no intention of trying to slip past them, though.

I’ve entered the street by climbing down from the roof of one of the adjacent buildings, and my planned exit would be just as unconventional.

Unfurling my mindsight, I inspected the surroundings. While the street I was on did not border the marshal’s house, it was close enough to put every consciousness inside within easy reach of shadow blink.

There were only a few people in the building, though. Reaching out with my will, I inspected them one by one.

The target is Algar, a level 120 human.

The target is Tymen, a level 103 human.

The target is Elron, a level 151 dark elf.

The target is Lanna, a level 110 half-elf.

I frowned. Elron’s jailors hadn’t just been posted outside, three were inside with him as well, and by the feel of their minds, they were awake and alert. Even worse, the guards were in close proximity to the marshal, likely in the very same room, and showed no sign of leaving him.

I could get to Elron and his jailors—no doubt about it—but could I kill the three before they raised an alarm and the patrols from outside rushed in?

Not without doing some prep work first.

Of course, acting before I teleported into the marshal’s house was dangerous too. Mindsight only revealed unshielded minds, which meant there was a chance that my count was off.

If I tried bespelling the guards from afar and missed one… I would still end up being discovered. However, it was the least risky of the options open to me.

So, which will it be? Charm or sleep?

Sleep, I decided. If I charmed the trio, I would likely be forced to kill them once the spell expired, and I wanted to avoid that if I could help it. Slaying Elron’s soldiers—and in front of him no less—would not sit well with the marshal, even if those very same soldiers were currently serving as his jailers.

My course decided, I gathered psi and swamped the area around Elron with my will, not bothering to avoid the marshal himself.

You have cast slaysight.

You have induced 4 of 4 targets to sleep for 40 seconds.

So far so good. Tense with anticipation, I waited.

A heartbeat passed, then another, but no cry of alarm rose.

I relaxed slightly. There was still no guarantee I wasn’t walking into a trap, but the chances of a mind-shielded guard not shouting for help after witnessing his fellows fall to the floor were vanishingly small.

Drawing more psi, I shadow blinked.

You have teleported 30 yards.

I stepped out of the aether, with my sword drawn and ready for anything. Whirling around, I swept my gaze across my surroundings.

I was in the marshal’s lounge.

Two crumpled forms lay at the door—the soldiers Lanna and Tymen—another was slumped in a chair—Algar, he looked vaguely familiar—and a fourth figure snored on the couch opposite him.

Elron.

But for the four sleeping shapes, the room was empty and the last of my tension dissipated. Sheathing my blades, I strode over to the unconscious marshal. Notwithstanding the knocked-out jailors, I didn’t have much time. Leaning over, I shook Elron roughly.

You have taken hostile action against your bespelled target! Enchantment broken. Elron is no longer asleep.

The marshal awoke with a start, his hands automatically searching for the sword at his side. I slapped his arm away before he could more than half-draw the blade. “Stop. It’s me. Taim.”

Elron froze and his head jerked upwards. “Taim?” he asked, eyes widening. “You’re back.”

I nodded, even though that was self-evident.

The marshal smiled. “Then all is not lost,” he said—too loudly for my liking.

“Shhh,” I hissed. “We don’t want to alert the guards outside.”

Elron’s brows furrowed.

I jerked my chin in the direction of his sword. “Your jailors may have let you keep that, but I don’t think they would take too kindly to me dropping by to visit.”

Elron’s expression cleared. “Ah, I understand now. But you got it wrong. They’re not my jailors.”

It was my turn to frown. “What?”

The marshal did not answer immediately. His gaze darting about the room, he picked out the slumped forms of the three soldiers. “You did that, I presume?”

I nodded curtly, still waiting to hear what he meant.

“Are they hurt?”

I shook my head brusquely. “No. Just asleep.”

He exhaled in relief. “That’s good,” he murmured.

“Elron,” I hissed through clenched teeth. “You still haven’t told me what’s going on. If those three aren’t your jailors, what are they, and why are they here?”

The marshal met my gaze. “They’re my guards and they’re here for my protection.”

I stared at him blankly for a second, then sat down beside him. “Alright, I guess you better start at the beginning.”