Tails read the invitation. It was official – the Governor’s seal was even pressed into the corner with blue wax. There was another note slipped in behind it, one from Silent himself.

The Wagoneers’ Guild sent me a short missive about rumors reporting spies in the city this morning.

Talanis handed the letter back to the monk, slipping the note into his pocket to dispose of later. Nodding to Silent, the Tenant stepped back. “I need to see the Wagoneers’ Guild today about arranging our trip back, sir,” he said, glancing around, “Two of my men will accompany you to the Governor’s. I will join you there as soon as I can.”

“That sounds sufficient. Have your two men meet me on the steps in an hour,” the monk took a sip of his morning wine, “They’re sending a coach. I don’t want to be late.”

Talanis snapped a salute, pivoted and marched out of the room. Once outside, he scampered down the hallway to his quarters. He arrived just in time to catch Rage and Pierce returning from bathing. The Tenant motioned them quickly into Agony’s room, closing the door behind him. The scout took his position near the door, peering out the small window.

“Listen up. We’ve been discovered,” Tails announced, dropping the monk’s note into a pitcher of water, “We’ve got hours at best, maybe a day before they close in to arrest us.”

Agony pulled out his Brotherhood gear and donned it. He then pulled his mercenary garb on over the top, minus the chainmail. Tails knew Rage and Pierce would be doing the same as soon as he ended the meeting. “Right now, I need Rage and Agony to escort the Emissary to the Governor’s,” the Tenant ordered, “Stay close to him and don’t let them kill or hurt Silent. I’m almost positive they plan to spring the trap at the Governor’s mansion, away from the eyes of the city. You need to find ways to stall the coach without appearing to be intentionally doing so. Maybe buy 20 minutes or so on top of the travel time.”

Rage and Agony looked at each other, then smiled. “No problem,” Agony said, checking his pouch to produce some coins, “It’s a busy time of day and it would be perfectly normal if we hit a snags of kids or beggars or such on the way there.”

“Pierce and I are going to the Wagoneers’ Guild, where I hope the Sister and Anvelad will meet up with us,” Tails tapped his finger on the table, “From there, we’ll figure out how to smuggle us all out and intercept the coach before it enters the Governor’s grounds. It’s going to be tight, but I think we can do it if we stay focused.”

Talanis waved to the door and Pierce opened it. With Rage in tow, they all departed to their rooms and prepared. Talanis made sure he had everything in order, including his badge. He tucked an extra dagger into his pants, and cleaned up the cell. Nothing could be left behind, and nothing could be left to chance. There were spies literally everywhere, he concluded, and the sooner their cover was blown, the worse it would be.

—————–

They all marched out of the Temple together, surrounding Silent in the normal fashion. The coach sent by the Governor was bigger than Talanis had imagined – it was literally a wheeled boat that could carry six or more inside, with four or five guards on the outside. The entire body of the coach was adorned with the Governor’s coat-of-arms – a black tower on a blue field. Two Guardsmice drove, with another sitting on the back with a crossbow. Rage and Silent climbed inside, with Agony sitting on the back with the extra guard. Talanis saluted as they pulled away before heading out in the opposite direction.

The Wagoneers’ Guild was a good distance from the Temple, but both the Tenant and his Second made decent time. They wove in and out of crowds easily, moving erratically. It grew obvious that they were being followed by a similar pair of well-armed mice hanging back a short way. Twice, Tails tried to shake their shadows, but the two mice were experts at keeping in pace. They switched their tactics, instead making a straight beeline to the huge warehouse hub that comprised the Guild. They were really close when a figure stepped out and tripped Talanis.

“Sorry, sorry. Apology,” said the heavily robed rat, “Here let me help you up.”

Pierce failed to notice, and walked underneath the archway into the Guild courtyard. He turned around, looking for his leader. The rat pulled Talanis into the alleyway, pushing him down. The Tenant’s shadow entered the alley, sword drawn. The rat spun and there was a whine as a strange metallic disk embedded itself into the spy’s neck. The rat caught the shadow and dumped him into a rubbish bin. Talanis regained his feet, pulling out his sword. “What’s going on?” he asked the rat, who was busy removing the many scarves and rags covering his body, “I need to reach my friend …”

The rat caught the Tenant by his arm and pulled him back. They both peered out of the alleyway towards the Guild building. Pierce had his paws in the air as four Guardsmice with crossbows closed in. There was a flash across the street in the opposite alley, and Tails saw Barb signalling him. Next to her was Anvelad, and they both had their weapons drawn. The mouse that had been following Pierce was talking to the Guardsmouse captain, gesturing back towards the street. The rat pulled Talanis back, motioning him to head down the alleyway. “Go, go. They be here in a minute,” the rat said, discarding his old clothes, “Unless you want to end up in prison with your friend.”

Talanis obligued, running down the small passage onto a side street. “You,” he said, glancing over his shoulder at the rat, “You’re the one who followed us into the city.”

They entered another alleyway, heading back towards the Temple. They nearly collided with Barb and Anvelad in the cross section. Barb slammed her paw into the rat’s stomach, bowling him backwards. He stood up, only to have the Sister’s knife under his throat. Anvelad and Talanis turned and watched. “It’s him, the rat from the swamp,” Barb growled, “Except he’s not getting away this time.”

The rat threw up his hands, dropping his own curved weapon. “Wait, wait. No killing,” the rat hissed, “I am here to help. I saved this one from the Guards waiting.”

Talanis motioned for Barb to help the rat up. She kept her knife pointed at his back as he stumbled forward towards the Tenant. Going down on his knee, the rat gestured wildly. “I am Gillip of the Mourning clan, from Wastelands,” he said, “I was sent a long time ago to keep eye on mice and report any threats.”

“Gillip, I’m Talanis,” the Tenant said in return, then pointed at the other two mice, “This is Sister Barb and Anvelad. Thank you for your help, but we have to get back and stop the coach from reaching the Governor’s.”

“Yes, yes. Another trap,” the rat scout said, standing up, “My fellows following right now. We can go fast this way and reach your friends.”

Tails looked at Barb, who lowered her knife. Gillip led the way, with Anvelad in the rear. “Do you trust him?” the older mouse asked Talanis, “Or do you think he means trouble?”

“Right now, I don’t see any other option,” the Tenant said as they turned a corner and kept running, “They have Pierce, and the others are in serious trouble if we don’t get there before the Guardsmice do.”

———————

The trip back to the Temple had been easier than the trip out, as the Brothers had shown them a more secure secret tunnel that exited in one of the many empty buildings on the square out of sight of the Guards. The Tenant and his Second had wasted no time returning to their quarters, eager to tell their other two teammates. Now, they sat around the room in total silence, minds busily processing the new information. Tails could sense the overriding disappointment in his subordinates, but he knew it would pass quickly. “Well, what do we do now?” asked Agony, nervously cleaning his battle axe.

Talanis began to respond when Pierce interrupted. “I have a bad feeling that we were being watched since we left these walls,” he said, whiskers twitching, “I can’t be for sure, as I could see, smell or hear no one following us. But I would advise caution in whatever we do from here on out.”

Tails nodded. If anything, he always trusted Pierce’s instincts on these matters. It had saved their fur on more than one occasion. “It won’t be long and they’ll figure out who we really are. Either by bad luck, or we’ll encounter one of the soldiers or refugees from the pump house,” the Tenant summarized, “I’ll suggest to Silent that we hurry up this visit and get out of here quickly.”

None of his teammates disagreed. Tails began formulating a plan and handing out assignments to the others, preparing for a hasty departure from Sequester. Pierce was to make contact with the Wagoneers’ Guild while Rage stayed behind to protect their belongings. Agony and Tails would escort Silent for the remainder of the day. Hopefully, by the evening, they’d meet up with a caravan heading back to Bastion. When everything was in order, he dismissed his crew and sprawled out on his bed to get some quick sleep before the morning crept in. He had an early appointment with the monk, and he feared that time was running out.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“You were right, sir, the mercenaries were really Brothers in disguise,” a mouse in dark robes told Richard, “My fellows trailed them and watched them scale the wall of the Fortress.”

The large gray mouse drummed his fingers on the arm of his tin chair. That useless charlatan Karl at the Temple had actually been right about something for once. Not that it mattered – eventually the Network would have picked up on these potential troublemakers and he would have been all over them. They had been clever, but not clever enough. “One of my informants inside the Sequester Brotherhood confirms your report, Skitter,” Richard said to the mouse spy, “Continue to keep an eye on the Temple, and let me know if they leave the premises again.”

The mouse in the brown robe bowed and quickly exited the chamber. The Governor’s adviser rubbed his aching temples slowly. Of all the unfortunate moments for the Brotherhood to come poking around in his city, they chose this week. Richard had enough going on all at once that the extra burden of dealing with outsiders from Bastion gave him a headache. They would have to be dealt with, and swiftly. If word got out to the Brotherhood in the south, they’d send more trouble. Entire groups of trouble. And even though the militant order of mice were not particularly welcome or liked in Sequester, a lot of the population still harbored some loyalty to them. The Guard wasn’t ready to handle the Brotherhood, either. They still had a long way to go in training.

“Too much at stake,” Richard mumbled to himself, “Sequester must survive.”

He sat there until the sun came up in the morning, brewing a plan. There was no time to sleep. Not when there were so many matters that needed attending. He called for his staff early, issuing his orders.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The sun had barely risen when there was a knock at the door. The Mousesmith dragged himself out of bed just in time to see Barb dismiss the messenger. He rubbed his eyes and stretched, descending the stairs slowly. Barb was busy reading the note, her robe pulled tightly around her. The older mouse noted she had a dagger tucked in her belt, and shook his head. “Good or bad news?” he inquired, pouring himself a glass of water from a pitcher on the table.

The female mouse gave him a quick glare, sliding the note across the table. “Word’s getting around that there are Bastion spies in the city,” she said, cutting a piece of cheese from a block in the larder and tossing it at Anvelad, “I think Silent’s entourage is in trouble.”

The Mousesmith sighed, catching the piece of tossed cheese effortlessly. “We need to contact the Wagoneers’ Guild and make preparations,” the older mouse commented, “So much for a vacation.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

This meeting required the extra time to properly plan their course for the evening’s activities. Tails decided that Rage and Agony should hang back at the Temple to deter any monks from discovering the absence of the other two Brothers. Pierce would lead the mission, and the Tenant would follow. The Second described how he had discovered a spot on the Fort’s wall where it would be easy to scale to the top. Having timed the circuits of each patrol, they had a three minute period where they could approach and climb undetected. Pierce emptied one of the supply sacks revealing a rope and grapple he had purchased for the mission. He also had bought several tunics and hoods that were the same color as the wall so they could blend in easier. Talanis retrieved his badge of command to give as proof to any Brothers they encountered once inside.

Agony took a few minutes to give Pierce and Tails a few pieces of equipment he had brought along. The Tenant was surprised to see that the large mouse had spirited away a garrote wire and wooden clubs. “I never pegged you for the assassin type,” Talanis remarked, “I always imagined you were the brute force kind of mouse.”

“You never know when discretion would be more preferable to chopping off heads,” Agony responded, “Even a mouse like me has to have a hobby.”

Since they had no idea of the floor plan of the Iron Fort, Pierce suggested once they were inside that they stayed in the shadows. The Tenant agreed that they had no idea whether or not any Guardmice were lingering inside the wall as well. They also had no idea if the Brothers would be receptive to intruders – even ones with proof of their membership. They agreed to let Talanis do all the talking. They put on their climbing gear and then covered it with shoddy street clothing. Everything they brought with them would have to be carried around, so as not to leave anything the Guard could consider suspicious. Rage led a quick prayer session, asking Holpes for a speedy and successful night.

Talanis led Pierce through the Temple, avoiding every monk they spotted. Evening services would be starting soon, so the halls were even emptier now. They slipped out a side window, Pierce breaking the lock so it would look secure without actually being so. They dropped down to the alley, passed the Guard and then edged along the square. Pierce kept them out of sight most of the way, until they got close to the Iron Fort. The empty building they hid behind was a good distance from the Fort’s wall. The Second pointed out the spot for their ascent, and they counted as two patrols passed by. It was exactly as Pierce had said – it took three minutes before the next group of Guardmice rounded the corner where they could see the wall. They changed their clothes, and checked their gear. It was going to be very close, and Talanis steeled himself.

Just as the last patrol disappeared, Pierce and Tails sprinted across the open space to the wall. They flattened themselves against it as the scout unraveled the rope. With a sharp toss, the grapple sailed over the top of the wall. It didn’t catch on the first try – it took a second toss. Pierce scurried up the surface, with Talanis behind him. The Tenant began to sweat as his countdown went faster than he had anticipated. He began to pull up the rope behind him as he climbed, to avoid being spotted if the next patrol came sooner than planned. Tails prayed that no one would look up and notice two mice escalating on the wall. Pierce cleared the top, reaching down to help Talanis. He suddenly clicked his tongue in warning, and the Tenant froze in place.

The next patrol came into view, walking along the wall. They were presently engaged in some sort of argument, their voices carrying up to the two Brothers. Neither took the time to look up, although one kept glancing to his right, into the darkness beyond their torch. The Tenant began to feel his arm ache, his paws slightly dampening. Pierce held on as tight as he could, his arm also getting tired. They watched as the three Guardmice passed underneath them, totally oblivious. They rounded the corner, and Pierce hauled his leader over the edge. Both mice lay there, resting for a minute, letting the feeling come back to their arms. Tails glanced at Pierce, who was breathing heavily.

“That was too harrowing for my poor heart,” Pierce whispered, “You need to work on your climbing skills.”

Tails signaled for them to get moving, and they stealthily moved along the parapets, looking for a ladder to the interior yard. They merely slid down, instead of using the rungs, and stood in the dark shadow of the wall. There was no movement in the yard, not even a guard patrolling the Keep. After a few moments, the two mice crossed the second open space to the interior wall of the Fort. They cautiously followed the wall, looking for a door or window to enter. They hadn’t gone a few paces before they encountered a sturdy wooden gate with a door in the center. Talanis stepped over and knocked on the portal. They waited for a long time, and then knocked again.

A small window on the door popped open and Tails found himself staring at the end of a crossbow bolt. He slowly held his paws up, with his badge in view. “Who are you, and what do you want?” the gruff voice behind the door asked, “You have about 30 ticks to answer, and then I’m putting a hole in your head.”

“I’m Brother Talanis, Tenant from Bastion,” Tails replied, “The vigilant catch the unwary with their blade.”

The bolt disappeared, replaced by a pair of eyes. “The vigilant remain safe,” the voice finished the mantra, “Just a moment, Brother, while I check with my superior.”

The small window snapped shut, and Pierce patted Talanis on the shoulder. After another long wait, there was the sound of a metal latch lifting and the door swung outward. On the other side stood three well-armed mice in uniform. They beckoned the two visitors to enter, and closed the door behind them afterward. Talanis clapped paws with another Brother, giving the official greeting. “I was wonderin’ when the Brothers in Bastion would be sendin’ someone to check,” the small brown mouse said, “It’s been three bleedin’ years!”

“We received no word of distress or problems,” Talanis offered, “We assumed that you were handling your own issues. The Charter states that neither chapter of the Brotherhood should spy or interfere on the others’ territory.”

Pierce and Talanis followed their three hosts down a cool tunnel, heading inward. Torches burned here and there, in no recognizable pattern. It seemed odd that the Brothers would only light a few torches to light the hallways. A large gray mouse in red armor led the entire group to another large door. He knocked three times, each time in a different manner. The door swung quietly outward, and the group entered the main hall. Empty tables stretched in every direction, only one occupied by a handful of mice and a candle. A stack of books stood on the floor next to them, each member reading while eating a meager meal of porridge.

“Vice Captain, we have a few Brothers visiting from Bastion,” the small brown announced, “This is Tenant Talanis and his … aide.”

“Vice Captain,” Tails saluted, “And this is Pierce, my Second in command. We’re here to get the situation in Sequester.”

One of the mice stood up, dressed in very fine armor. The Tenant was surprised to see that he was a tall black mouse with no whiskers and shaggy coat. “The situation was over quite some time ago,” the older mouse said, returning the salute, “I’m Vice Captain Witter. I’m in command of what is left of the Brotherhood of Sequester.”

The leader motioned for them to take a seat next to the other mice at the table. They numbered eight in all, including the three that met Talanis. Pierce glanced around in worry. “How many Brothers are left?” he asked, “This hall would normally hold two hundred.”

“Unfortunately, there are now only 32 Brothers left,” Witter said, “Three seasons ago, there were 62 Brothers. We lost thirteen or so to desertion, four resigned and two died of old age. We haven’t had a single recruit since the Marshall died. Our chapter is dwindling into nothing.”

Talanis sat in silence, surprised. A younger Brother brought in two bowls of porridge for the two visitors. Pierce took a few bites before the Tenant could find his voice. “What happened? Why didn’t you send word?” he asked Witter, “We would have sent new Brothers to infuse your chapter.”

“We’ve tried sending messengers out for the last two years, but from your reaction, I’m guessing the Guard intercepted them or they died on-route,” the Vice Captain put his book to the side, “We assumed either Bastion didn’t care or you were busy with some other, more urgent threat. Or possibly that none of our messages reached you. We knew that our silence would eventually bring someone to investigate.”

“We just didn’t think it would take so long,” the small brown Brother growled, “I’m surprised you came at all.”

The Vice Captain gave the Brother a stern look, silencing him. “Forgive Brother Hugrid,” Witter said, “It’s been a hard three years.”

“Excuse me for asking, sir, but what happened to Marshall Wilds?” Pierce piped in, “Even more importantly, what happened to the Brotherhood?”

Witter sighed, putting down his glass. He motioned for the rest of the Brothers to depart, leaving him alone with the two visitors. The others stood up, taking their books and their drinks as they left. Brother Hugrid was the last to go, purposely taking his time. He gave Talanis a cold glare over his shoulder as he walked out through one of the side passages. When everyone was gone, the Vice Captain slumped back. He suddenly appeared older and less healthy. Tails almost leaned forward to help his superior, but stopped himself.

“It begins with the Marauders in the northeast flooding the Marshlands,” the Vice Captain said, “And from there, it’s a very long story.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The lead monk checked the missive and then bowed. He summoned a guide and gave him strict directions. The young student turned and lead the visitor down several hallways to the chief attendant’s quarters. The mouse said nothing, not even glancing about. He made no noise whatsoever – not even the typical sound of claws on marble or the swishing of fabric. Unnerved, the student knocked lightly on the chief attendant’s door, trying to wait patiently for an answer. The young mouse felt the eyes of the visitor boring into the back of his head, making his tail twitch and whiskers shiver.

Finally, the door opened and a voice beckoned the visitor inside. The guide quickly disappeared, fleeing down the hallway. He’d make it a point not to be found later when the monks needed another guide to lead the visitor out. The chief attendant closed the door after the heavily clothed mouse entered. The visitor dropped his hood, revealing a bluish gray mouse wearing an eye patch. A small scar trailed down from the corner of his mouth, making it look like he was constantly snarling. Karl offered his visitor a glass of wine, but it was refused. “The Governor is interested in your recent report on the visiting emissary,” the grey mouse said.

Karl poured himself a glass of wine, taking a small sip. He sat on his tall wooden chair, near a writing table. It was covered with recently inked scrolls and several quills. “The Abbott in Bastion has sent one of his acolytes to check up on the Sequester Temple,” the monk said, “Apparently, they suspect something.”

“So? Why don’t you spy on him from your little hidey-holes around the guest quarters and see what he’s up to,” the visitor asked, “I’m just Giorge’s mouse, not some sort of mind-reader.”

Karl tapped fingers on the table. “If the Temple in Bastion suspects something, then it won’t be long before the Brotherhood sends someone to poke around,” the attendant remarked, “If they haven’t sent spies already. Are you prepared to deal with Brotherhood warriors so soon, Richard?”

The gray mouse rolled his eyes. He picked up a book in one paw, flipping through the pages. “The Brotherhood in Sequester is defeated, and my Guard is slowly gaining confidence and experience,” the Governor’s adviser patted the silver pommel of his sword, “The Brothers of Bastion are either oblivious or no longer concerned. If they wanted to interfere, its too late for that. Deal with the emissary and let’s be done with it.”

“That’s not as easy as it sounds. The Temple hired some mercenaries to protect the acolyte,” the attendant mentioned, “I mean, we could offer them better pay, but who’s to say they won’t go back to Bastion waging their tongues about treachery. My position is already tenuous as it is.”

Richard shook his head, snapping the book shut. With a precise, quick movement, he tossed the book at one of the shelves. It expertly landed in a slot, spine outward. “Very well. Let’s not start an incident before summer is here. Just let them wander around,” the gray mouse said, “I’ll have some of my men watch them, and you keep an eye on them while they are here.”

Karl looked from the book to the adviser. He faked a yawn to cover his shaking paws. Richard turned sharply on his heel, striding over to the door. He turned to look over his shoulder before he opened the door. “And if anything changes – anything – send me word,” the gray mouse ordered, “It would not do anyone any good if outsiders start stirring up trouble.”

With that, the Governor’s adviser was gone. The attendant wiped his brow, turning his mind to other matters. It took him a few minutes to calm his nerves so he could resume writing. His thoughts continued to wander back, until such time that Karl gave up and turned in for the evening.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The morning had slipped by so quickly, as Silent and his retinue toured the marketplace of Sequester. There was so much to see – the Wagoneers’ Guildhouse, the tavern district, the large memorial fountain. The attendant had provided an enthusiastic monk guide, and he led the group all over the city while pointing out every little attraction. Talanis found his attention wandering while the guide droned on. They made a tighter and tighter spiral towards the Capital building, but it seemed like it was taking longer than normal. The constant pressure of the crowds made it hard to concentrate.

When the noon hour arrived, they stopped to eat at a small stall near the Governor’s Courtyard. Tails signaled to Pierce, who quietly and quickly slipped away into the crowd. Not long afterward, they moved into the giant courtyard. Directly ahead, a large pyramid shaped building loomed. It was a combination of stone and recycled plastic, surrounded by small wall. The gate was attended by eight Guardmice – six on foot and two sitting on the backs of Guinea pigs. Tails assumed there were even more guards inside, making it the most secure facility in the city. Suddenly, the Tenant realized the guide was giving out facts about the Guard.

“The head of the Guard is Master Commander Cowell. He was once a Brother assigned to train the city’s army, who eventually resigned his post as Vice Captain to take over leading the Guard,” the guide was gesturing to another building, “Every day of season, the Guard is busy training in their own facility, located near the Capital.”

Talanis studied the simple structure. It was merely a large lunchbox lying on its side, with openings cut in various places. A designated parade ground was filled with interesting equipment – training dummies, archery targets, a climbing wall and a trench. Mice recruits were working on their skills, drilling under several Sergeants. There was even a large corral for Guinea pigs, which were being used as mounts. Tails was impressed with the sheer organization and activity present.

“The Guard will accept the enlistment of nearly any mouse willing to serve. They even take in disabled mice as part of their Gear regiment,” the guide continued, “Since enlistment is voluntary, the Guard are popular among the populace as opportunity providers to younger, less fortunate mice. It gives them purpose.”

The Tenant began to understand why the Guard was so widely tolerated, even though they were literally stationed everywhere, watching everyone. These were common mice from every walk of life – with such representation, mice felt comfortable with Guardmice nearby. Of course, they were nowhere as efficient or skillful as the Brotherhood, but they made it up with their sheer numbers. Here was an army that even capitalized on whatever volunteers were willing to serve, able to fight or not. These very mice would make a great ally in future conflict with the Marauders.

Or a great opponent on the field of battle.

Silent stopped the guide in the center of the courtyard. “Is there any way I can tour the Capital and meet the Council?” he asked, “And possibly talk with the Governor?”

The other monk blinked. Silent had forced him to think, which was apparently an uncomfortable activity for their guide. “Well, I could ask my supervisor if we can make that request and schedule you an appointment,” the young mouse replied, “You need a pass to get in and see Governor Giorge.”

Of course you do, Talanis thought to himself, You basically need permission to do anything important in Sequester.

The guide led them back into the market, where his lecture on economics resumed. Talanis waited patiently for Pierce to return with good news. Rage and Agony had to keep bumping into Tails to keep his mind from wandering. The monotony was getting worse, and the Tenant wondered if anyone other than Silent could withstand so much chattering. After awhile, Tails began to inspect the sewer system as they passed various gutters and access holes. He figured it might be a good idea to dedicate a second route of escape in his mind.

Sequester utilized an interesting form of water and waste control they guide had called “plumbing.” Pipes in the tunnels below carried water all over the city, and waste drained down into large chambers called “sumps.” The sumps were all connected by the same tunnels that held the pipes. It all traveled to the walls of the city, where it drained out into a small pond behind the peak. The pond drained into the river, carrying the waste far away. Fresh water came from two tapped springs near the center of the city, as well as rainwater stored in various basins on the top of Watchpeak. Aside from drinking, cooking and bathing, water was also used to heat homes and power machinery (in the form of steam). Talanis imagined a group of mice scurrying in the sewers, moving from block to block undetected. He noted that most gutters had bars on them, and all access holes were covered with metal plates that required a tool to open them. He’d see if Anvelad could procure such a tool for their use.

It wasn’t until late afternoon that Pierce returned, just before they arrived back at the Temple. He was carrying several sacks of food and supplies. The Second gave a quick nod, much to the Tenant’s relief. A quick plan started to form in Talanis’ mind. Tonight, they’d make contact with their Brothers in the Iron Fort and decide their next move. However, before they went inside the Temple, Silent pulled Tails to the side. “We need to have a quick meeting before supper,” the monk said, “There’s something I need to tell you.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Talanis and Silent sat at the same table as they did before, with Pierce watching the door. Rage wandered around the room, checking every spy hole. When he nodded, the Tenant turned to the monk. “Is there a problem?” Tails asked, sitting back, “Other than the mouse that was tailing us the entire time?”

Silent relaxed, sighing. “Two mice. We had two mice following us most of the time,” the monk said, “Until Pierce left, then one mouse tailed him while one tailed us. I’m glad, though, that you noticed. I thought you were sleepwalking during most of the tour.”

Talanis grinned. “I almost did. I have never been so bored in my life. The trip was worth it, though,” the Tenant remarked, “For one, we got to see the Guardmice headquarters and learn how they operate. And second, Pierce found a way to get into the Iron Fort. I’m confident he did so without the mouse trailing him noticing.”

Pierce gave his superior a feigned hurt look. “I’m not doubting my Second’s ability. I apologize for that jest,” Tails said, “We’ve got to be quick and clean tonight, so I can’t afford more mice hanging on us with every step.”

Rage tapped his breastplate, alerting them. He rubbed his nose, covering a gesture at the large painting. “Very good, sir,” Tails said loud enough for their new peeping guest, “We will report to the Wagoneers’ Guild tomorrow while you secure your visit to the Capital. I have some coin that I want to send home to my family, and let our boss know that we’re still okay.”

Silent nodded. “Very well,” he said, with a subtle wink, “Dismissed.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

]]> http://shoestringsociety.wordpress.com/2010/05/25/chapter-seventeen/feed/ 0 njb8172 http://shoestringsociety.wordpress.com/2010/05/21/chapter-sixteen/ http://shoestringsociety.wordpress.com/2010/05/21/chapter-sixteen/#comments Fri, 21 May 2010 18:44:25 +0000 njb8172 http://shoestringsociety.wordpress.com/?p=155 ]]> The meeting with the Chief Attendant had gone just about as well as Talanis had anticipated. The new Temple leader – a mouse named Karl – was as aloof and distant as most politicians. The formal greetings and rituals were performed quickly and without much pomp. He and Silent had retreated to the Attendant’s chambers to discuss news and other “things,” leaving the Tenant to wander around the dark, quiet hallways. It was the same here as in the Temple in Bastion – elaborate, clean and cold. Finally, he blundered into a monk who then led him to the quarters where he and the other “mercenaries” were staying. The monk said nothing while they walked down the marble halls, Talanis preferring the silence to the incessant questioning of most clergy mice.

Soon, they reached an isolated set of rooms on the far wing. The monk called them “cells,” and Tails agreed. They were tiny, empty rooms with just a bed, dresser and chamberpot. A small candle stand held two candles – one for the first part of day and one for the later part. The monk explained that a younger student would come around at set intervals to provide new candles, empty the chamberpots and lead visitors to services or the dining hall. He also demonstrated how tugging on a cord in the room would summon another student for whatever requests visitors may have. The Tenant thanked his host, and reclined on the bed while waiting.

Tails found himself dozing, and a prodding to his side awoke him. It was Pierce, who handed him a tightly secured bundle. Inside were the Tenant’s armor, shield, sword and uniform. Tails quickly pulled the lowest drawer out of the dresser, laying the bundle inside. He replaced the drawer before taking a second bundle full of the clothes he would wear while posing as a payblade. When he was done organizing his belongs and changing into a more comfortable tunic, Talanis joined his companions meeting in Pierce’s room. Agony shut the door, and stood careful watch while the others gathered around the bed. Rage removed a large piece of parchment from his belt and unfolded it where it was easily seen in the dim candle light.

“A gift from the Wagon Master,” he told Tails, “He said we might need it if we’re going to move about without getting lost.”

The parchment was a giant map of the city. It only listed the largest roadways and most important landmarks, but that was enough. The Iron Square was in the western portion of Sequester, and there was a note written in detailing how it was also the poorest section of the city. Talanis traced a finger across the paper, committing a path to his memory. “The Council apparently meets here,” he said, tapping a large round building labeled City Capital, “And all the Guildhalls are on the northeast side.”

“Anyone notice that’s labeled as the nicest part of town?” Rage chimed in, “The city is clearly divided quite openly along economic means. They are less generous or equal here than in Bastion.”

Pierce coughed. “Political and financial inequities aside, I’m guessing the area around the capital building is where most of the action takes place in this city,” the Second leaned back, “That’s quite a shift since the earlier days when the Iron Square was the center.”

“I agree that it’s disturbing – and quite suspicious  – that the decline of the Brotherhood and the death of the Primarch in Sequester happened almost together,” Talanis pointed out, “However, it’s even more bothersome that we have to somehow sneak in and out of the Iron Fort since there’s so many bloody Guard stationed everywhere.”

“We need to find out more about what happened in the last two or three years to get an accurate assessment of what to do next,” Rage said, “No one’s heard or spoke of any news about Sequester outside the city limits for ages now. It’s like an entirely different city from the one we grew up hearing about.”

Talanis held up his paw. “Barb is probably gathering that information right now. I’ll trust her to get the word on the streets,” he rubbed his chin, “We need to concentrate on our main goal – getting into the Fort and contacting any Brothers we can.”

Agony tapped his foot on the floor three times, signaling company. A young student knocked on the cell door, and the larger mouse let him in. “The emissary requests the presence of his bodyguards at the late day meal,” the student’s eyes darted around, nervous, “If you’d follow me, I’ll lead the way.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Silent sat in his quarters, alone at the large dining table. Tails scanned the room as he came in, noting all the windows, vents and possible spy holes. Luckily, the table was close to the center of the room, making it hard for eavesdroppers to overhear anything said there in a low voice. Rage and Agony took their places near the door, standing at attention. The Tenant took a seat adjacent to the monk, with Pierce staying nearby. They sat quietly, while Silent continued to eat his small meal of vegetables and rice.

“How are your rooms? Everything satisfactory?” Silent asked, gesturing very slightly towards a large painting on the wall, “You and your men did an excellent job of protecting me all the way here.”

Talanis leaned forward, glancing at the art through the corner of his eye. He caught sight of the canvas billowing ever so lightly, meaning there was a passageway behind it. Tails nodded and lowered his voice. “Everything’s unpacked and we’re just in the planning phase right now,” the Tenant coughed, and then spoke louder so anyone spying could hear him, “Our rooms are acceptable, sir. We’ll be fine until you need us again.”

“Good, good. I plan on visiting the city for awhile tomorrow, so you’ll accompany me,” Silent slid a piece of parchment across the table to Tails, “Here’s my itinerary. Be ready to leave in the late morning after I attend services. You are dismissed.”

Talanis took the paper, and tucked it into his tunic. He bowed slightly to the monk and motioned for the others to leave. “On your orders, sir,” he said as he walked to the door, “We’ll be ready and waiting in advance.”

Closing the door behind him, the Tenant called the guide to lead them back to their rooms. He had already mapped out the route, and was certain that Pierce had, too. He merely played the part of an average mercenary captain, not concerned with anything but the safety – and wealth – of his present charge. Silent was playing along well enough, making Talanis’ job easier. Tails hated all the clandestine, covert activity, but it served their mission to remain outside of suspicion. This meeting alone proved that the Chief Attendant couldn’t be trusted and was paranoid of a few warrior mice roaming the halls of his Temple. Now the Band would really have their work cut out for them.

When they got back to their rooms, they convened in Pierce’s room again shortly after the guide had left. “What does the note say?” the Second asked.

Talanis pulled the parchment from his tunic and found that it was actually two pieces of paper pressed together tightly. It was brilliant – anyone watching the exchange would only see the itinerary on top and nothing written on the bottom. The monk had hastily scrawled a long message on the top of the second piece of parchment. Tails held it up, and began reading it out loud:

“Here is a quick summary of events I have gleaned from my meeting with the attendant. It’s sketchy at best, since I’m sure the chief attendant is hiding the truth under established propaganda. I’ll try to get more details from other monks once I’ve ascertained they are loyal to the Abbott.

“Four years ago, riots broke out in the city. The chief attendant tells me they were triggered by the newly appointed Marshall Skie, who was in the Iron Square addressing the concerned citizens of Sequester. Whatever the case, the citizens grew rowdy and became violent. They turned against the Marshall, his staff and his guards, and managed to kill them. The Abbott was also in attendance, so the mob killed him for supporting the Brotherhood. The riots spread all over the city, with mobs running wild, wrecking havoc and destruction. A lot of mice died, and the Governor was forced to use the Guard to return order to the city. All sorts of laws and policies were put in place to keep the peace.

“The Governor then assigned a portion of the Guard to surround the Fort and keep the Brotherhood safe from the angry citizens and vice-versa. The Governor also appointed the chief attendant of the Librum as the temporary head of the Temple – although it’s been anything but temporary. I do believe that Karl is the nephew of the Governor, so this is a power play to control and keep the Temple from interfering in politics. Whatever the case, no one crosses the Guard lines set by the Governor without approval from the Council.

“I’m not sure why the citizens of Sequester turned on the Brotherhood, or what inspired the riots, since the chief attendant was not clear about those details. I do believe that there is a layer of disgust and hatred seething in the population for Brotherhood soldiers, so I recommend not revealing yourselves until you find people sympathetic to your cause.

“Anvelad sent word that he and Barb are going to scout around to find allies. He will contact the Metalworkers’ Guild and see if there’s anything that can be learned there. We’ll spend some time around town tomorrow, and you can let Pierce or another Brother try to make contact with the Brotherhood in Fort Iron.”

That was all there was, so Tails held the note up to a candle. It caught fire, becoming a small pile of ash. Rage was busy studying the map, and comparing it to the itinerary. “Well, at least he’s thorough,” Pierce said, smiling, “Amazing how he took charge so quickly.”

Talanis grimaced. He pulled on his whiskers lightly, taking a deep breath. “I’m still in charge, despite what the monk thinks. Luckily, we’re on the same train of though,” the Tenant sat on the bed, “Someone’s still in charge of the remaining Brothers in Fort Iron, and we have to hear their side of the truth. Tomorrow, while we’re running around the city, I’ll order Pierce to go secure some random supplies. He can attempt to find a way into the Fort and then report back.”

Rage handed Pierce the map, and Agony rubbed his eyes wearily. “Everyone get a good night’s sleep. We’ll discuss strategy tomorrow,” the Tenant tossed a blade from hand to hand, “Once Pierce has secured our entrance, we’ll duck out at night and pay the Brothers a visit.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Bottle was an interesting mix of glass and straw buildings. Giant containers were half-full of berries and grain, in the open where everyone could see them. While in the south this would lead to the invasion of the random squirrel or bird, the tall reedy grass near the river hid the town from sight. A single large tavern with Guinea corral was packed to the rim with travelers. Tails had to keep his eye on Agony, to keep the large mouse from wandering into the pub and drinking himself stupid. The sound of revelry and music leaked into the road, drawing mice to the door. A riverboat was pulling up to the docks, adding the noise of chains and calls to the din. It made communicating difficult, and the wagons piled up on the northeast road from confusion.

Talanis realized after a few minutes that Pierce was trying to tell him something, his voice lost in the clamor. The Tenant beckoned his Second over, leaning in close to hear. “Over by the millers, second glass bin on the left,” Pierce pointed out, “It’s the rat from the Marshlands.”

Tails carefully glanced pass the cowl of his cloak towards the location Pierce had mentioned. Unfortunately, the crowds of busy mice obscured his view long enough for the rat to move on. He only caught a glimpse of an orange shirt and redwood bow before a wagon blocked his view. Pierce was swearing under his breath, trying to force the Guinea pig leading one of their wagons to make the turn up the road. Talanis shrugged, patting his Second on the shoulder. He had a feeling they’d see the scout again, and maybe next time they could talk.

After an hour of pulling and pushing, the caravan was back on course. They passed several Guard units patrolling the road, and the Tenant ordered his Band to keep their heads down. They couldn’t afford to be recognized by any of the soldiers they met by the well earlier. Rage and Agony did their best to press against the Guinea pigs nearest to them, trying to look too busy to do anything else. Pierce hunkered down next to Anvelad and Barb, pretending to be asleep. All Talanis could do was stalk along with the hamsters’ wagon – the Guard avoided the irritable rodents whenever possible. The wagon train made steady progress along the road, and picked up speed when it changed from mud to paving stones. The entrance to Sequester was ahead, a large gate set in the side of Watchpeak. A dozen guardmice manned the opening, inspecting mice and wagons that passed through.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Everything appears to be in order,” the Corporal of the gate said, waving to the other guards, “Keep your mercenaries out of trouble.”

The Wagon Master retrieved his papers from the Corporal’s outstretched paw, the caravan lurching to a slow start. The Tenant took a deep breath and wiped his brow. The Guard had been pretty thorough, checking mice, wagons and Guinea before ending their search. Anvelad had given a nosy guardmouse a smoldering look when he tried to pat down Barb, causing the poor soldier to pass it up. Talanis had been glad – he could only imagine the mouse standing there with a stump, the Sister having sliced off his eager paw with a swift motion. They passed through the checkpoint with relative ease. Most of the guards gave Silent a passing glance, unimpressed by another monk from Bastion.

The passage leading under Watchpeak was dark and cold, only the occasional torch lighting the way. They passed under several archways, each one more colorful and decorative than the last. The paving stones also changed as they got closer to the city – what was merely a black and white mosaic slowly evolved into a gold and blue one. Soon, they were walking on large tiles with small carvings outlining the edges. It also became warmer and lighter near the end of the tunnel. The final gate was an impressive display of oak with bronze and silver fittings, guards in green ceramic armor standing on either side. They emerged into the main cavern, right into the bustle of city activity. It was an explosion of sound, light and busy mice.

They were still on the main street, only now surrounded by adobe and metal buildings that reached upwards ten or more stories. Above, several glass-lined holes in the rock let sunlight stream down like spotlights on the busiest parts of Sequester. There were still plenty of electric torches protruding from poles on the sides of buildings. On every street corner, tents sprang up with mice selling or buying something. There were even small groups of rats leaning against the walls here and there. The Wagon Master skillfully maneuvered the wagon train through the throngs of workers and merchants packing the roadway. Talanis rested his paws on the hilts of his blades, watching for thieves and pickpockets. A gaggle of children formed up behind the caravan, eager eyes watching and equally eager mouths calling out questions. The Blades gently turned them away, ignoring their pleas for a treat or story.

The Tenant was in awe at the sheer height of the entire settlement. It took root on the interior walls of the Watchpeak and spiraled upwards into the shadows. There were flickering lights above them that spoke of mice living near the top of the cavern. Tails wondered how anyone remembered where anything was – or if each group of mice primarily remained in their small quarter all their lives. He caught sight of a building where female mice were hanging up newly dyed clothing on copper wires that stretched the entire length of a block. The smell of freshly baked bread mingled with the stench of garbage. Everywhere he looked, there was activity. Even in the tightest of spaces, the mice of Sequester continued on with their daily lives, scurrying to and fro. The caravan slowed, drawing Talanis’ attention to the head.

They were entering a vast, open square. The buildings fell away, skirting the edges of the plaza. There were not as many mice here as there were on the narrow street, and the Tenant felt relieved. He had heard of outdoor mice getting claustrophobia in the tight quarters of Sequester, but this was the first time he actually believed it. Tails mentally began taking notes of their immediate area. The Wagon Master had intentionally led the caravan through this particular area for the Band’s benefit. “The Iron Square,” one of the Blades said, “The parade grounds of the Sequester Brotherhood.”

On the north side of the plaza, Talanis could see a large walled fortress sporting red banners. It was a typical Brotherhood building, expertly constructed to provide a defense against raiders. There was a significant lack of guards patrolling the top of the walls, and most of the windows in the keep were dark. Even more noticeable was a series of guardmice forming a perimeter around the base of the fortress’ walls. The Tenant counted six total patrols making their rounds, and estimated there were possibly more watching the other approaches. He glanced at the Blade who had spoken to him earlier, and realized this one had joined them after reaching Bottle. The new escort nodded, keeping close.

“It’s been this way since the riots a few years back,” the Blade said in a soft voice, trying not to be overheard, “The Governor had ordered no one goes in or out of the Iron Fort without direct permission from the Council. They claim its for the safety of both the civilians and the Brothers.”

The Temple of Holpes lay on the east side of the plaza. Golden domes and marble pillars glinted in the rays of light that managed to reach them. Three dozen steps led up to the giant wooden doors, both carved with the image of a mouse kneeling in the beams of a star. There were four monks standing watch, and a surprising number of guardmice lingering nearby. Talanis frowned, as the increasing number of Guard around the city was troublesome. The caravan lumbered up to the nearest batch of soldiers, and the Wagon Master introduced Silent to their Sergeant.

“Acolyte Silenivet, emissary of the Abbott of Bastion,” the large mouse announced, “He’s here to have counsel with the head of the Temple of Sequester.”

The four monks looked at each other, and started to approach. The Sergeant scrutinized the paperwork that Silent had handed him, his subordinates slowly encircling the caravan. “Interesting,” their leader said, “I was not aware that the Chief Attendant of the Librum was expecting company.”

Anvelad had made his way to the fore, tapping his staff on the paving stones. “Chief Attendant?” he asked, “He has an audience with Primarch Ulfur.”

The guardmouse appeared confused. One of the attending monks pushed him aside, bowing to Silent. “We’re sorry, Acolyte, but the Primarch Ulfur has been dead for quite some time now,” he said, “If you and your colleagues would kindly follow me, I will show you to your guest quarters.”

The Sergeant glared at the monks, but let them pass. The Wagon Master told Talanis the caravan would wait here until the Acolyte’s wagon was unloaded in the rear, and then they had to continue to their Guildhall. Silent thanked the amiable Wagoneer, and climbed down to trail behind the Sequester monks. Tails gave quick orders for his Band to go unload the wagon while he escorted the emissary. The other monks questioned Silent’s need for a bodyguard, but the young mouse insisted that the Abbott had strict orders. They quickly ascended the stairs, and entered the main Temple through the front doors. Tails glanced back one last time, catching a glimpse of his old mentor just before the doors closed.

Anvelad’s expression was one of warning and apprehension.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Silent sat at the head of the caravan in the lead wagon. He was dressed more brilliantly in the clothing of the Temple, even more so than the Tenant had ever seen the Abbott dressed. Talanis assumed it was intentional in the hopes of distracting the prying eyes of Sequester. Captain Rend had instructed the Tenant and his Band to remain inconspicuous. He had hope that no one would care about a few beat-down mice taking on a rather bland job. Everything looked to be in order, and Talanis prayed for a short and successful mission.

“Daydreaming, are we?” a familiar voice said behind him, “For a couple of hardened payblades, you seem awfully distracted.”

Tails whirled around and laughed. Anvelad stood there, his pack slung over one broad shoulder. The Tenant gave the older mouse a firm pawshake while grinning. “What are you doing here?” Talanis asked, “I thought you’d have left for Blackshore by now.”

The Mousesmith shrugged, tossing a sack into the wagon next to them. “The Marshall asked me to come along as backup,” the older mouse said, “I’m helping provide more cover to your estranged female companion.”

Anvelad motioned towards the back. A commonly dressed housewife broke from the bustle and approached them. Talanis’ jaw dropped when he realized that it was Sister Barb in a plain blue dress and head scarf. She had literally died most of her hair reddish brown. The Mousesmith gave the Tenant a hard elbow, bringing Tails back to reality. “She’s taking my daughter’s place for the moment,” Anvelad remarked as he helped Barb into the wagon, “A female warrior raises eyebrows. The daughter of a regular smith does not.”

“You are hardly the regular smith,” Pierce chimed in, having joined Talanis, “You’ll drink all the Rhut the Wagon Master has in store before we get halfway there.”

The old mouse’s staff barely missed connecting with Pierce’s head as he struggled to duck out of the way. The scout bumped into Rage, who shoved back. “You want that I hold him down while you pummel some respect into him, sir?” Agony asked, “Anyway, the gate guard has cleared us for passage. I think we better form up.”

Talanis agreed and ordered the Band into line. As the wagons lurched ahead and out of the city, they fell into step alongside the caravan. The pace of the Guinea was slow enough that anyone could keep up, since the Guild was transporting a great deal of cargo to various townships up the river. The wagons would barter their way to Sequester, as was traditional. One wagon in the rear was manned by the hamsters taking food supplies to their mines in the north. Although the entire caravan left earlier than the normal seasonal pilgrimage, there was little chance to suspect their real reason for going to Sequester. Talanis had to admit that it was a well-planned excursion, and hoped that his Band could live up to the reputation they had earned recently.

By midday, they were a little more than a half mile from Bastion, their leisurely pace ensuring that it would take at least a week before they could see Watchpeak. Resigned, the entire entourage lazily sauntered forward in the warm Spring sun. They planned to enjoy the trek for as long as the weather would hold out.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

By the third day, they had passed through three mouse settlements along the Black River. Their wine and wheat cargo was slowly replaced by iron, copper and coal. Talanis was surprised by the fast and ferocious way the Wagon Master haggled, often turning an equal trade into a slight profit. Since the Wagoneers’ Guild traveled with everything they needed to get to their final destination, they camped outside of the settlements to prevent paying any unnecessary fees or taxes. They slept on, in and under their wagons, barely pitching a tent or starting a fire. Drawn into a tight circle formation, the wagons created a temporary fort. Their efficiency was impeccable.

The Guild also employed a number of guards called Blades to protect loaded caravans. On longer trips, they also hired various freelancers. Talanis’ Band wasn’t the only group of payblades traveling along – a group of unaligned mice with swords came along, hoping to prove their skill to the Guild. It was the most likely way to get noticed and hired into the Blades. They were paid less than mercenaries and trained help, but they traded wealth for experience. If they ran into trouble, most of the newbies would perish. They made perfect fodder, which was why they were allowed to tag along.

The trip had been pretty uneventful, until the end of the third day. The weather had been agreeable, but dark clouds lingered on the horizon. Spring usually brought about powerful storms and torrential rains. This forced the caravan to move even slower, with most of the passengers taking refuge in an enclosed wagon located in the center of the train. At one point, Tails and his Band had to push a wagon out of the sucking mud before it became too mired. Everyone was soaking wet, dirty and tired of the lashing winds. The Wagon Master took stock of their situation by midday of the fifth day and decided to forfeit any further progress to allow his Guinea Pigs and guards to rest. The Tenant took the opportunity to check on Anvelad and Barb – after dinner, he joined them in their tent pitched in the back of their small wagon. He dumped the water out of his boots before entering, and hung up his cloak to dry. Shivering, he sipped a cup of warm liquor the Mousesmith had given him. Barb was busy patching various pieces of clothing with her expert fingers – she could have been a master seamstress.

“So, what can you tell me about the recent events in Sequester?” Talanis asked the older mouse, “We rarely hear anything back in Bastion about the northern colony anymore.”

The Mousesmith coughed, checking on the boiling stew. “I can’t tell you much, since most of my associates in Sequester only send mail when they actually need something,” Anvelad said, “Last events I heard about happened about three years ago.”

Tails gratefully took the bowl offered to him by the older mouse and scooped up a portion of the pot’s contents. Anvelad offered Barb her third, which she took reluctantly. Dishing out his own portion, the older mouse then sliced a few pieces of bread for everyone. “Five years or so ago, Sequester’s workers wanted to unionize to protect their interests against outside competition. Places like Blackwater and Bastion were stealing a bit of their profits, I heard,” Anvelad dipped his bread in the soup before eating it, “The Marshall in Sequester acquiesced, trying to keep the people happy. Morale has always been a little bad under the Peak. They formed the Metalworkers’ Guild, the Growers’ Guild and the Masonmice. So all forging, feeding and construction from Sequester became affordable to everyone all around.”

Tails nodded, remembering he had heard the same. “At first, the Guilds and the Brotherhood had a hard time communicating. They needed to organize their suggestions and complaints, so the Guilds formed the Council. Each Guild had one senior member on the Council who reported,” the old mouse continued, “They also elected a front mouse to do all the talking – they called him the Governor since he oversaw the actions and decrees of the Council. The Council would meet twice a quarter – once among themselves, and once with the Marshall and his staff. It was working fairly well, or so I heard.”

“And after that?” Talanis asked, finishing his bread and taking another pull of his drink, “Wasn’t there a war or something?”

“I’m getting to that. When Marshall Wilds declared war on the Salamanders encroaching on the plains that were thinning his ranks and killing his patrols, the Governor allowed three more Guilds in Sequester,” Anvelad took the Tenant’s empty bowl and sat it down with his own, “The Weaver Guild, the Surgeons and the Wagoneers’ Guild realized their services were in high demand and thought to squeeze the Brotherhood a little. Marshall Wilds didn’t like it, but there was little he could do about it. They leveraged their economic might against the Brotherhood’s martial might.”

Barb took all three bowls and rinsed them out using the water running off the tent flap. Anvelad checked Talanis’ blades, pulling out a whetstone. The Tenant wrung the water out of his tunic, cleaning his face and ears. The warmth from the fire was drying his coat, making him relax a little. “Last I heard, the ranks of the Brotherhood were growing rather thin from the fight. Marshall Wilds had stretched his lines a little too far in the north, fighting what people claimed was a lost cause,” the old man quickly sharpened both blades, letting the Tenant test the edge, “The Brotherhood was becoming less loved for their war, and the Temple less popular for their support of Marshall Wilds. Primarch Ulfur of Sequester is getting fairly old, and I’m pretty sure he’s frail. I don’t know if the Abbott in Bastion intends to replace him soon or what. It’s all politics in those circles.”

Tails pulled on his tunic and boots, retrieving his cloak. He thanked his hosts, noting that Barb watched him more closely than before. The rain hadn’t abated outside – in fact, Talanis thought it had picked up tempo, with the wind adding its might to the storm. He sighed, resigned. “Well, I have to go check on the others, so stay dry and don’t get sick on me,” the Tenant joked, “Hopefully, when we get to Sequester, we’ll have plenty of warm, dry nights and soft beds. I’m getting sick of Spring already.”

“Good luck,” Anvelad said as the flap fell closed behind the Tenant, “Spring’s only just started, my boy.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The entire congregation of Covenant leaders were gathered around the large conference table in the Marshall’s office. The Tenant and his Band sat to the Marshall’s left, while the Captain and his Vice-Captains sat to his right. On the opposite end of the table sat the Abbot and Primarch.

“While I’m very distressed about the devastation at Westhold, we have more problems to worry about. Starting with the events unfolding in Sequester,” the Marshall concluded, “To prevent social disorder and panic, I think we should keep Westhold’s fate to ourselves. We’ll tell the civilians when we clear up the matter.”

The head of the Librum had spent the entire time taking notes, his pen scratching away at the parchment. The only thing more annoying than that sound was the repetitive drumming of the one of the Vice Captain’s fingers on the tabletop. The way the mouse rolled his eyes while Talanis was speaking made the Tenant want to smack sense into him.

“So what is the next step?” the Abbot asked, his attentive eyes roaming around the table, “The Marauders are on the move, Sequester is traipsing all over the countryside and we don’t know what kind of creature is decimating entire forts of mice.”

The convention sat quietly, looking at the Marshall – save Talanis. He set his glare on the Vice Captain across the table from him, waiting for the inevitable side-remark. Pierce elbowed him hard, breaking his concentration. “I think,” Marshall Valor said, “that we need to take each problem on head-on. Starting with the Marauders. I want to put a group of our best scouts – with a Sister – out on the border to track their movements.”

Captain Rend nodded. Turning to the Vice Captain under Tail’s scrutiny, he issued the assignment to the Covenant of Honor. Talanis half-expected Rend to mention sending Sister Barb, but instead, he mentioned a name the Tenant had never heard of. “We also need to bolster our defenses at the river and on the towns in the plains,” the Marshall continued, “Put an additional five Bands on rotating patrol.”

“And Sequester?” the Primarch asked, looking up for once from his book, “Should we try to contact our Brothers to the north?”

The Marshall tapped a finger on his chin. “I think … I think we should send a small liaison to check out the situation,” Valor said, “The Procession is our best bet for diplomacy, at this point. Where politics fail, religion usually succeed. What say you, Abbott?”

Everyone turned their eyes back to the Abbott, including the Primarch. Talanis noticed Silent fidget nervously under the gaze of his leader. “I agree, Marshall. We shall send one of our own with a retinue from the Brotherhood to protect him,” the leader of the monks said, “That can be their cover – one eye on the liaison while the other eye watches the Sequester government.”

Captain Rend cleared his throat. “You sound like you already know who to send on this mission,” he remarked, “We can spare a few soldiers, on your approval.”

The Abbott’s eyes – and all remaining eyes – turned to Talanis, who looked around in confusion. The Marshall crooked a smile. It was an unspoken agreement, made without further consultation. The Tenant knew he should protest, since his Band hadn’t enough time to appropriately rest or recover. He also had a sinking suspicion which monk would be the liaison to Sequester, staring down the table at Silent. The young mouse avoided the Talanis’ gaze, instead focusing on the table.

“We graciously volunteer for the mission, if it pleases the Estate,” Tail’s found himself saying aloud, “My men and I will be ready at first notice.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“I hate being a pawn of politics is all, Captain,” Talanis told his superior as they walked down the hallway, behind their guide, “You’re setting me up for promotion faster than I can acclimate.”

Captain Rend would only look directly ahead while listening. Their paws clicked on the cold stone as they skirted around the Librum to the Abbott’s chambers. The guide said nothing, merely gesturing in the direction they should progress at each intersection. “Don’t think about changing anything, just focus on contacting Marshall Wilds and getting a report on their situation,” the Captain said, “Let the Abbott’s liaison handle the honors, talking, whatever. Just act like bodyguards, and try not to draw a lot of attention to yourselves. Let them focus on the diplomat.”

After a few minutes, they reached the great glass doors. Intricate engravings and frosted panels kept one from peering inside, but enough light glimmered through to light the entire corridor. Talanis was reminded of Spring, when the sun filtered down through the leaves of Testimony into the city. The guide bowed, leaving them standing there. The two soldiers looked at each other, unsure what to do next. Eventually, Tails reached out to gingerly knock. His paw never reached the glass, as the door swung inward on its own volition. Bright light enveloped them, making both mice blink as their vision adjusted.

In the center of the office stood the Abbott, seated in a tall wooden chair. In front of him, a large desk held a dozen books and scrolls. He appeared to be reading when they entered, but Talanis realized that the Abbott’s eyes were closed. The Tenant wondered if the holy mouse was asleep, until he spoke quite clearly. “Sirs, please feel free to take a seat,” his voice sounded distant, “I will speak with you in a moment.”

Both soldiers looked behind them and saw comfortable chairs standing against the wall. Captain Rend sat first, Talanis showing respect by waiting. They patiently rested, taking in their surroundings. The Tenant watched the Abbott closely, amazed at how focused the monk was. His eyes were closed, but his hand traced over the words on the pages, reading. The ceiling was made of clear glass, directly under a hole in the branches of Testimony. The polished stone and metal on the walls reflected the light perfectly, making it all center on the Abbott’s chair. There were no candles, lamps or any flame anywhere. Talanis recognized that the function of this room was purely for reading any text in the Librum – especially faded print.

The Abbott carefully closed his book, turning to look at his guests. “Now, let’s discuss the details of the mission,” he said, smiling, “Diplomacy is a careful process, and I don’t want to start a war.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The meeting had gone on for a few hours when an acolyte entered with a message. The Abbott nodded to his assistant, offering a quick reply. Captain Rend stood up, motioning for Talanis to do the same. The mouse  suddenly understood that they were going to be dismissed. “Thank you, Captain, for your assistance. Thank you, young Tenant, for your bravery,” the Abbott said while standing, “I must attend the afternoon service.”

Both soldiers bowed, and Captain Rend exited first. Before Talanis could step across the threshold, he felt a hand on his shoulder. He turned, unprepared to see the Abbott’s gentle face. The swiftness of the monk caught him completely off-guard that his voice failed him. Instead, the Abbott pulled him effortlessly to the side. “I understand you have questions,” the monk said, “And I have a spare minute to give you an answer.”

Talanis was unsure what to ask. He took a deep breath and exhaled, calming his mind. “Are you sending Silent as the liaison?”

“Yes,” the Abbott responded, “For reasons I cannot explain right at this moment. I already suspect that you sense something unusual about him.”

Talanis nodded. He would take whatever answers were given – anything was better than a complete mystery. “Very well,” the Tenant clasped his hands together, “And you are going to send the Sister with us, somehow. Somehow she’s tied into this mess.”

The Abbott looked surprised, then sighed. “Silent was right about you – you are somewhat overly observant to the point of being unexpectedly brilliant,” he said, “You think with your mind, but listen to your instincts. Yes, the Sister has been working for me for quite some time now. Your last question?”

“The Veldt. Your scribe mentioned it and it’s grabbed my attention.”

The Abbott walked the Tenant out of the room, the glass doors closing quietly behind them. The monk said nothing as they walked down the corridor to the first intersection. “Ah, a real question. One that takes an entire year for an acolyte just to grasp the mere concept. I suspect you would probably catch on faster,” the old mouse waved over a guide, “I can tell you this, and then it’s up to you to get the rest of the answer on your own. Everything you’ve probably heard about the Veldt is both true and false. Yet, it is the most important aspect of our society. We would not be if it were not for our connection to the Veldt.”

“I know we tend to speak in riddles, and that somewhat frustrates you,” the Abbott continued, “Our minds – our dreams – are all connected. We call this connection the Veldt. Your and my very awareness is part of a greater presence. How is a question that not even I can really answer. Just theories is all I can offer. The Primarch could tell you of all the Abbotts who pondered the very existence of the Veldt.”

The guide motioned to Talanis to follow him. The Abbott patted the young mouse on the shoulder. “I trust that you’ll understand sooner or later, and Silent has my permission to assist you,” the holy mouse turned to leave, “It’s always good to ask questions.”

The Tenant trailed behind the guide as they made their way to the Temple’s entrance. The Abbott’s words echoed in his mind, only creating more questions. Before he knew it, Talanis found himself standing on the Librum steps alone. He resolved to get answers, but first he had other things to tend to.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“There’s a large group of mice headed this way,” Pierce reported, “They are heavily armed and moving in a forced march.”

“They have several scouts out,” Barb said, “And when they reported our position to the larger group, the small force started heading this way.”

Talanis sighed, washing his face quickly in the pool. He ordered Silent to keep an eye on the civilians while the rest of them set out to meet the small army. Agony and Rage quickly put their armor on, while Pierce prepped his bow and sword for possible trouble. Barb disappeared into the grass – to provide surprise support, the Tenant figured. Talanis situated his uniform, sword belt and shield. He wanted to look like a presentable authority. After a minute or so, he could hear the noises of approaching soldiers. They squared up, and took their positions in the path of the oncoming mice.

When the group entered the clearing, Talanis recognized their standard. They were clearly a group of guards from the settlement of Sequester to the north. The group Sergeant called the troop to a halt, and strode out to meet the Tenant. The leader removed his brass helmet, carrying it under one arm. Talanis gave a quick salute in greeting, and the other leader returned the gesture. “Brother Talanis of Bastion,” the Tenant said, “What brings you and your contingent out this way, Sergeant?”

The Sequester leader glanced at Talanis’ band. “We’re presently on the lookout for trouble. A passing Nomad scout reported following a group of unidentified, armed mice in the Marshlands before they tried to assault him,” the Sergeant answered, “Your group matches the description.”

Ah, so that’s who was tailing us earlier, Talanis thought. “We are members of the Brotherhood escorting a group of refugees from Fort Westhold,” the Tenant said, “We’re not here to make trouble. We just want to return to Bastion as quickly as possible.”

The Sergeant looked back at his soldiers, clearing his throat. Rather roughly, he placed his helmet back on his head. Three guards broke formation and came forward, hands on their weapons. “I am under orders of the newly formed Sequester Council to bring back any stray mice to the city,” the Sergeant announced, “Any refugees you have will be turned over to my command, and you can return to your Marshall.”

Pierce gave Talanis a worried look. Rage and Agony drew up to their full height, brandishing their weapons. Somewhere, the Tenant imagined the Sister was drawing a bead on the Sergeant. The rest of the contingent began to draw their arms. “I’m under orders to escort any refugees back to Bastion to be debriefed, Sergeant,” Talanis said flatly, “I believe our conflicting orders present a big problem.”

The Tenant motioned to his band to lower their weapons. The Sergeant turned and barked at the contingent. The guards sheathed their weapons in response. Talanis motioned to Pierce to come forward. “Right now, we have a group of weary, hungry and frightened civilians in our care,” he told his Second, “We don’t need to kill any soldiers only following their orders.”

“What’s our course of action then?” Pierce asked, “They aren’t going to just let us walk away with a dozen refugees when they were ordered otherwise.”

Talanis considered his options. They were outnumbered, but they could easily dispatch this group of guardsmen with minimal injuries. The Marshall would probably not condone it, though. Relations were strained in recent months with their sister colony, and this would only bring more stress. Also, if they were somehow defeated by the contingent from Sequester, the survivors would roughly be taken into custody. They had suffered enough trauma after the Marauder siege. That was an added caveat – Talanis had to survive to report to the Marshall on the destruction of Westhold. Giving the Sequester force another look over, he knew what he had to do.

“It would be better if we let the survivors leave with the Sergeant and his men. Sequester is closer, after all,” the Tenant told his band, “We could get back to Bastion faster and deliver our report that way.”

Pierce nodded, ordering Rage and Agony to back to the group of civilians to prepare them for transfer. The Sergeant called his group to attention, following behind Talanis as he lead them back to the well house. Pierce followed in the rear, as usual. When they reached the camp, the Sergeant found all the civilian mice organized and ready to depart. Silent gave his Tenant a questioning glance, but didn’t utter a word. Instead, he took his place next to Pierce and waited. The Sergeant gave the order to break camp and head out, briefly turning to Talanis. “I seem to be missing a scout,” he said, “If you see him, tell him we started heading back to the city. I hope something unfortunate didn’t befall my man. We don’t need any bloodshed.”

With that, the Sergeant turned and marched his men out.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

The band left shortly afterward, moving as quickly as they could towards their home. Barb joined them a little while later, Talanis pulling her aside. “The Sergeant claims they were missing a scout,” he remarked, “You wouldn’t have anything to do with that, would you?”

Barb’s face was like stone. She shook her arm free, her other paw on the hilts of her blades. “Don’t touch me again,” she growled, “And I only detained their scout. I needed to get some information about why Sequester soldiers are marching around while there’s no Sequester Brothers around.”

The Tenant held out his hands, in a show of peace. “I’m also worried about what the Sergeant said about a new government in Sequester,” he offered, “It’s clear that politics are coming into play that we were not aware of. The Marshall may know what’s going on.”

Pierce had sauntered back, checking on his leader. He watched the two closely before he whistled to get their attention.

“Are you coming, or are we going to camp here?”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

By late afternoon, the Tenant was more than certain they were being followed. If Barb expected company, she did not outwardly show it. Whatever it was, it made very few mistakes, staying far enough away while moving quietly. It belied an expert – and Talanis knew that would spell trouble if their tail was hostile. With enough speed, they reached the ruins near the end of the culvert where they had entered the marsh days ago. Night had descended on them quickly, so they decided to make camp until morning.

Talanis sent Silent out to gather firewood so he could discuss the matter with their assassin companion. Barb was sorting through her small arsenal of weaponry when the Tenant sat down next to her. “Someone’s following us,” he said under his breath, examining one of her wicked knives.

“It’s a rat,” she replied, giving Talanis a sideways glance, “It’s not a Marauder – they carry a particular stench if you’ve trained yourself to detect it.”

The Tenant smiled, hoping not to reveal to their voyeur the nature of their discussion. He took out his own blade and began polishing it with a linen cloth. “I would venture it’s some sort of scout, since it’s very good at hiding,” he gave Barb the cloth so she could polish her blades, “If it’s not a Marauder, it has to be one of the Scavengers. Although why a pack rat would be out this far is beyond me. Perhaps looking for loot left behind by the Marauders.”

Barb frowned. She said nothing else, and eventually the monk returned with a bundle of sticks and tinder for their night fire. Silent also fished out bread and cheese for their evening meal. They ate silently, huddled around the warm flames. Talanis set the watch between himself and Barb, taking second watch. Just before he fell asleep, the monk approached him.

“I think we’re being followed,” Silent said, looking around.

Slightly surprised, Talanis felt his nose twitch. “So you’ve noticed as well,” he whispered at the monk, “When did you notice?”

“Sometime around early afternoon, after we passed the larger ponds,” Silent told him, “I felt his presence before I actually started hearing him.”

Talanis raised his eyebrows. That sounded suspiciously unnatural. He checked to see if the Sister was listening – again, if she was, she didn’t show the normal signs. “Every day, you continue to display these unusual talents,” he said, glaring at Silent, “For a monk that doesn’t seem to be overly experienced, you have proved otherwise.”

The monk sat there quietly for a few minutes, staring at his paws. Talanis could tell Silent was struggling with himself, possibly about how to meet the accusation. Finally, the monk sighed and laid back on the ground. “You’ve heard of the Veldt, yes?” he asked the Tenant.

Talanis felt the hairs on his back stand up. “Only the stories,” he replied, “The ones about Holpes and dreams.”

Silent looked up at the stars, his paws folded on his stomach. “Then you understand the concept of Veldt,” he said, “There are members in the Monastery that have gifts pertaining to the Veldt. I’m one of them.”

The Tenant made a quick sign of warding, making Silent chuckle. “It’s not like the tales of witches and cursed mice,” the monk said, “While it’s mystical, it’s also very easy to explain. Only the monks know the truth about the Veldt, which is a shame, really. It would put superstition aside.”

“So explain it to me so I understand,” Talanis wrapped his cloak around him, “It would help me trust you more.”

The monk looked at the soldier. “Then I’ll have to take what trust you can give me for the moment, since this is no place to talk about such things,” Silent smiled before closing his eyes, “Eventually, either the Abbot or myself will make things clear. Sleep well, Brother Talanis.”

“Sleep well, monk,” he replied, “We have an early day tomorrow.”

~~~~~~~~~~

After an uneventful night, the Tenant’s group found the trail of the survivors. They skirted the culvert, pushing through the grass on the north side. It made sense, really, since a large group in the trench would make a great target for flying predators. Pierce left all sorts of signs indicating their future plans – two twisted knots indicated they were only a half-hour ahead, planning to exit on the road and take the original path back to Bastion. Talanis led his companions carefully along the trail, making sure to know where the rat scout was at all times. They made excellent progress as the sun sailed through the clear sky.

Just as he predicted, they caught up to the second group just before noon. They were greeted by a partially concealed Agony preparing to ambush them. With quick salutations and a warm welcome, the large mouse led them forward to the main band. Pierce was relieved to see them all in one piece. Rage continued to lead the group forward, giving both mice a chance to catch up. Talanis urged Pierce to go first, hearing about their slow but safe progress through the Marshlands. Luckily, the survivor band had seen no more of the lizards or Marauders. Exhaustion and fear had prevented them from going any faster.

When it was his turn, the Tenant told Pierce of the fort. The Second’s face grew dark as he heard the news. Talanis also mentioned their tail, and the scout nodded. “Perhaps we should finally say hello to your guest,” Pierce suggested, “Find out what exactly we’re dealing with.”

“It would be safer. We don’t need a rat slowing us down,” Talanis agreed, “I’ll let you and Barb handle it. Just … bring it in alive. I have some interesting questions I want answered.”

Pierce nodded. He fell back to the assassin’s position and they quickly talked over their options. Talanis prodded Silent to join him and Rage in the lead. Soon, Pierce and Barb slipped away from the survivor group and disappeared into the tall grass. Talanis slowed the main group’s pace, giving his companions a chance to complete their mission before they reached the Human road. Silent and Rage herded the straggling civilians, while the Tenant and Agony guarded the front and rear. Noon came and went, and the afternoon proved to be hot and uncomfortable. They patiently waited for news from the other two as they progressed.

Talanis began to worry when the sun slid towards the horizon, bringing on the night. The group reached the road, but the Tenant called for camp in the grass, away from the open. Not too far away, down the road, the familiar rusting hulk sat, casting a long shadow. They started two fires, and passed out the meager rations. Just as the group got situated, Barb and Pierce returned. Both mice looked equally frustrated, and they were empty-handed. The Tenant called his original band together, so they could talk details.

“We almost had him,” Pierce said, “The Sister had circled around to cut off his escape while I pushed him towards her. And then … well, he figured out what we were doing.”

Barb’s arms trembled angrily. “The rat used smoke and oil,” she said, “We lost his scent entirely, and then when we converged, he literally slipped out of our grasps.”

“She tried to kill him as he ran away,” Pierce added, “Only the knife she threw bounced off the back of his head.”

Talanis snorted. “A dyed helm, then. Sneaky indeed,” he said, “Definitely a Scavenger. Too bad you didn’t catch him. I’d like to know what he was doing and why he was trailing us.”

“We got a good look at him. If either the Sister or I see him again, we’ll know,” Pierce said, tinkering with his bow, “He was probably hoping one of you’d fall down and die so he could loot your corpse.”

After laying out their course for the next days and their watch schedule, the Tenant dismissed them. Rage took first watch, and Talanis laid down among the survivors. Hopefully, his presence dispelled some of their fear. Over the next few days, he hoped to pick up their spirits and get them to move more quickly. Their supplies would run out if they didn’t, and the last thing he wanted to worry about was starving, thirsty civilians losing their heads.

They still had a long way to go. Returning to Bastion was looking more appealing with every minute. Talanis just hoped they’d make it there.

~~~~~~~~~~~