Baron Assassin: Chapter 11

I don't want to lose the thread on this, so I keep chipping away at it here and there. This is the latest complete chapter. Enjoy! ~Eric

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By the time they reached the inn, Varal’s vague concerns had crystallized into something more certain. Something was wrong in this town. He wasn’t sure what that something was, only that it existed. It might just be the product of poor leadership or a local downturn in the economy. He’d seen both things happen in his own barony. Talent was a commodity that the goddess did not bestow equally across the kingdom, and the capital seemed to soak up a lot what talent there was. He’d been forced to remove mayors in several towns and villages. They hadn’t committed any crimes or even engaged in any real malice. Their only misdeeds had been hopeless incompetence. Replacing them had proven a true test of patience for Varal. However, he had eventually managed it.

The local economy could likewise be stimulated. Even if Sir Jareks’s poverty prevented him from taking direct action, he wasn’t the only one responsible for this region. There would be other nobles who had some interest in the prosperity here. He could have sought investment from them or, barring that, a loan that he could have used to spur some growth. Of course, the poor leadership might be coming from Jareks himself. Remen was very bright, but that intelligence was tightly focused on areas other than politics and leadership.

He might well have inherited that from his father. If the elder Jareks was equally bright and equally focused in some other direction, he could be mismanaging this small domain right into oblivion. But, if the son was a reflection of his father, that notion didn’t hold up well. Remen seemed dutiful. Even if he didn’t care for politics, Varal thought it unlikely that the youth would simply ignore obvious problems. That suggested that the father likely wasn’t ignoring them, either.

Still, that was all unfounded speculation. It had been brought on more by having nothing to do while taking a very slow carriage ride to the inn than any evidence.

“Is there something on your mind, Baron?” asked Daran.

“Hmmm?”

Varal realized that he’d been stirring a lump of sugar into his tea for the last five minutes while lost in his own thoughts. He snorted in amusement. He imagined Gibon would have slapped the back of his head for losing track of his surroundings that way. It was a bad habit to get into, even if he did trust the competence of the people around him. His awareness of what was happening was always going to be his best defense. I’ll have some of my guards start attacking me at random, he thought. That should take the rust off. I’ll call it training. With that settled in his mind, he turned his attention to Daran.

“I asked if you had something weighing on your mind,” said Daran, replacing the mostly cool cup of tea with a hot one.

“What is your impression of this town?” asked Varal.

The other man gave him a direct look and then, in a move he wouldn’t have dared in front of anyone else, he sat down across the table. He seemed to gather his thoughts as he poured himself a cup a tea. Varal didn’t care about the supposed disrespect for two reasons. The first was pure indifference. He’d been born a commoner, so his elevation meant little to him. The second was because his question had pushed Daran out of his role as “servant” and into his role as “spymaster.”

“So, you noticed it as well?” asked Daran.

“I can tell that something is off here. The source is elusive. It could be too many things to pin it down without more information.”

“The good knight is a fool. The economy has turned.”

“Those were my first thoughts.”

“To be fair, those are the most likely culprits. But there are other possibilities.”

“There are,” agreed Varal. “A less likely but plausible scenario is that someone has targeted either the town or Remen’s father. Since indulging my daughter’s whim involves tying the boy to our house for a fair number of years, I’d like to know if that’s the case. I’m not overly concerned if that brings down some trouble. I do, however, want to know where that trouble is coming from before it arrives at my doorstep with a blade in hand.”

“A wise precaution,” agreed Daran. “Shall I look into the matter?”

“Yes. Please do.”

“Should I put off contacting the Jareks estate?”

“For now. I can only ignore them for so long without breaching etiquette, though.”

“Do you care about that?”

“Not particularly,” admitted Varal, “but there’s nothing to be gained by needlessly offending them.”

“A fair point. I’ll try to work quickly then.”

“Don’t take any unnecessary risks. I’m curious, but this isn’t worth your life to discover. Not yet, at any rate. I do, however, appreciate your efforts.”

“Of course, baron. I don’t expect this will take that long or prove particularly dangerous.”

“No?”

“Sophistication in crime is a natural byproduct of necessity. In a place like the capital, it’s necessary. There are too many interested eyes with too many competing interests. If there is some kind of crime at work here, I doubt that it’s well hidden. It might not even be hidden at all.”

Varal shrugged and said, “Information gathering has always been more your expertise than mine. I’ll take your word for it.”

Nodding, Daran stepped back into his role as servant long enough to clean up the tea. Then, he was gone, no doubt changing into clothes that would make him blend in before venturing out into the town. For his part, Varal did what was most helpful at the moment. Nothing. At least, he didn’t do anything interesting. He took a bath. After that, he ate dinner in the common room. It wasn’t as good as what the cooks made him back at the manor, but he’d taken great care not to become picky about food. He never knew when a situation might arise that would require him to eat what he could find. It wasn’t likely, but unlikely wasn’t the same as impossible.

Daran didn’t return that night. Varal supposed that might have been concerning to other people, but he’d learned to trust that Daran only took his time if there was a good reason for it. I suppose that I’ll just have to find out what it was in the morning, thought Varal before setting wards around his room and settling on the bed. When morning arrived and there was still no sign of the man, Varal frowned. He wasn’t concerned, yet, but the task was meant to be low-risk. That kind of information gathering didn’t usually require an extended absence. Of course, if it had turned risky, steering clear could be Daran’s way of not exposing his connection to Varal.

“Do you have any plans for the day, Baron?” asked Mila.

For reasons he’d never thought to ask about, Mila was the maid who filled in as his personal servant whenever Daran wasn’t there. A tall woman with hair so pale it could be mistaken for white, Varal was half-convinced she’d been born with a sliver of ice in her soul. There was no warmth to the woman at all. She made up for that with an almost vicious efficiency. He’d hired her Daran’s on recommendation and left it at that. Most days, he was too busy to ask his servants about themselves, but he had nothing but time at the moment.

“How long have you worked for me, Mila?”

The woman froze for a heartbeat, almost overfilling the cup she was filling with tea, before she straightened up again.

“Six years, baron.”

He mixed a little sugar into the tea, took a sip, and nodded.

“This is good,” he said.

“Thank you.”

“Are you satisfied with your current position?”

The usual stoic mask slipped a little and thought he detected a hint of concern on her face. How odd, he thought.

“I am, baron. Very satisfied.”

“And before you served me, what did you do?”

The mask slipped more and the hint of concern blossomed into alarm.

“Baron, have I done something to lose your trust?”

Varal blinked at her a few times and said, “No. Not at all. I was just indulging my curiosity.”

Mila regained a bit of her lost composure, but there was color in her cheeks that wasn’t usually there. It was disconcerting for Varal to see such open signs of emotion in the woman. She seemed to think for several long moments, as though she thought she had to choose her words with great care.

“I was employed by another noble,” she finally said, sounding as though she’d had to drag the words out of herself.

This level of obvious distress was not what he’d intended. He went to tell her that it didn’t matter, but she continued before he had a chance.

“The lord’s son was—” she took a shuddering breath. “He was determined to have me in his bed.”

The words were coming faster now. Harder. Angrier.

“I know what happens to maids who get pregnant that way. We all know. You get thrown out with nothing but the clothes on your back, if you’re lucky. My parents couldn’t afford to take me back in. Let alone with a child on the way. So, I said no. Over and over again, I said no! He wouldn’t listen. Didn’t want to listen. Then, I guess, he got tired of waiting. He tried to force me. But there was something he didn’t know. Nobody knew.”

She held up a hand and a black blade that glittered like crystal appeared in it. Varal wasn’t sure if it was a spell or a magical skill, but it looked lethally sharp. He could guess what happened next.

“I was so scared and angry. I just kept stabbing him until he stopped trying to hurt me. Then, I ran. I ran and ran and ran. I didn’t have anything. I didn’t know where to go. I don’t know how he found me or knew about me, but Master Daran said—” she trailed off.

Varal thought he could guess what Daran had said, probably right down to the exact words.

“I know a place you can go. There’s a lord who won’t care about your past as long as you can do your job well.”

And he was right in this case. Varal had killed a lot of people for a lot less cause than that what he’d just heard. Mila angrily swiped at the tears that had gathered in the corners of her eyes.

“I’ll pack my things,” she said in a small voice.

“Why would you do something foolish like that?” asked Varal, lifting his tea to take a sip.

Mila tilted her head like she didn’t understand the words that he’d just spoken.

“Baron?”

“I only have one question. Did he die?”

Mila nodded numbly. Varal stood up and looked her in the eye.

“Good. I appreciate people who finish the things they start. In the future, if anyone tries something like that again, I expect you to defend yourself. I don’t care who they are, or who they think they are. I wouldn’t put up with that, and neither should you.”

“I—” she started when the door swung open and Daral came in.

He took one look at them and said, “Oh, she finally told you.”

“She did,” agreed Varal.

“Did she try to quit?”

“She did,” said Varal.

“Did you let her?”

“Of course not.”

Daran looked at Mila and asked, “What did he do?”

“He asked me if they died.”

“And?”

“He said that I should defend myself if anyone tries that again.”

Daran gave her a smile that simply screamed I told you so. Mila drew herself up and some of her stoic mask fell back into place.

“It’s undignified to gloat when you’re right.”

Varal considered the pair for a moment before he said, “I think she got the better of you there.”

“Yeah. She did,” agreed Daran with a sigh.

“I assume you have something to report.”

“I’ll make some fresh tea,” said Mila before leaving the room.