The Wanderer's Tale: Esmor by Rex Foote

Author:Rex Foote [Foote, Rex]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Rex Foote
Published: 2016-11-29T00:00:00+00:00

Interlude

10th Day of Daaris. The Season of Light. Year 250

Captain John Gibson of the Caladarian City Watch stood and returned the salute of Sergeant Storkhelm as she entered his small office. She was looking better after six days of treatment from the City Watch’s healers. In fact, she had been remarkably lucky in that regard; things had been quiet in and around the city of late, and so the healers had been well rested and well stocked, though the damaged arm had been amputated. He gestured to the seat opposite his, and she sat.

Clearing his throat as he did likewise, he began, “Sergeant, I have called you here for two reasons. One will be to hear your account of the events that led you and your men out into the path of that monster, and the second will be to tell you your fate. Taking a bribe is a serious crime for one who is entrusted with guarding the way into our city, and how can we be expected to trust you when your loyalty is for sale?”

Storkhelm gave him a stiff nod, a good sign, as it showed her willingness to accept the consequences of her actions. Captain Gibson sighed inwardly. He wished he didn’t have to do this to her, but it was necessary. He was about to start questioning her when the door opened and a woman strode in.

“Captain,” said the woman in a strong, feminine voice. “Good to see I got here before you began.”

Storkhelm turned in her seat to gaze in surprise at the newcomer just as Gibson recognized the voice and the face behind it.

“Captain Randa Yount, I did not think the Expeditionary Force cared for matters such as this?”

Captain Randa Yount was a tall, lean woman with a build distinctly suited to being a soldier. Her face was compact, her features small, and her straw-blonde hair done up in a short braid that ran down the back of her shirt. She was wearing the formal uniform of the Caladarian Expeditionary Force, well-fitting clothes with a sharp cut and a pragmatic feel. Without waiting to be offered a seat, she sat next to Storkhelm.

“Not usually,” she admitted with a slight tilt of her head. “But the king has asked me to sit in on this.”

This announcement startled both Storkhelm and Gibson. Why, in the names of all the gods, was the king interested in this mess? Recovering himself, Gibson carried on.

“Very well. Sergeant, please relate to us the events from eight nights back that led you and your men out of Caladaria.”

Storkhelm began to tell her tale, leaving nothing out. Gibson observed Yount out of the corner of his eye as the sergeant spoke of the merchant paying her to go look for his daughter and the Elreni suspected of kidnapping her, but throughout all this, Yount’s face remained utterly impassive and unreadable. Damn Expeditionary, he thought, they never truly let their guard down.

It was only when Storkhelm reached the part where she and her men confronted the Elreni and girl at the camp before the attack that Yount spoke.

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