Blood and Honor

Rolund snarled, and went back to chewing on his rat.

“There it is,” whispered Tarrel, pointing into the darkness. “The one at the end, with all the canvas.”

Mordan squinted. “I can’t see it,” he said.

“Of course you can’t,” said Tarrel. “By the time your weak human eyes could see it, we’d already be there! Solly, can you see it?”

Solly pushed back the hook of the rough cloak, revealing Hintram’s face. He peered into the gloom. “No,” he said. “We’ll need to get closer.” Tarrel raised his eyes heavenward.

“I can see it,” said Brey, “and the half-orc outside it. Why don’t you just let me deal with him?”

“Because dead bodies are suspicious,” said Tarrel. “Even here. Let’s stick to the plan. Now, there should be another one around the back. Do you think you can keep him quiet?”

Brey grinned, her teeth glinting in the twilight.

“I think so.” She turned to leave.

“But remember,” said Tarrel.

Brey finished the sentence for him. “I know. Don’t break him, because he might know something.” She disappeared into the shadows.

Solly looked nervously at Mordan and Tarrel. “You’ll be close by if anything goes wrong?”

“We’ll be watching you every step of the way,” said Mordan. He and Tarrel hung back as Solly set off along the waterfront.

The changeling shook himself a little as he walked, trying to focus on his performance. The others had told him the face was good enough, but he still wasn’t sure about the walk and the voice. He experimented with a long, slightly wide stride, as might befit a soldier and former cavalry officer, but decided it was too much. Eventually he settled for a generalized human walk, with slightly hunched shoulders and a heavy step.

He coughed loudly as he approached the semi-ruined warehouse at the end of the row, but the half-orc was already looking at him. As he was trying to think of something to say, the lookout gave him a curt nod of recognition, and he returned it without a word. Lifting up a flap of canvas, he went into the warehouse.

At the back of the building, the guard turned to look at the newcomer. She tottered unsteadily along the alley, humming an old marching song between hiccups. Red hair spilled out from beneath the hood of her cloak.

“Hey, there!” she slurred, stopping a little short of the guard. “I think I’m lost! May—maybe you can do me a favor!” The guard grinned, thinking of a favor that was probably not what she meant. He went to take a step forward, and suddenly she was right in front of him, pinning his arms to his sides with a grip of iron. Her eyes burned into his, and he felt his will melt away. He would do whatever she asked.

“Go to sleep,” she said.

Inside the warehouse, Solly headed for the back and waited. His heart leaped as he heard a low muttering outside the back door, then he recognized Tarrel’s voice. The door opened, and his three companions came in. Tarrel was putting away a scroll.

Mordan lit a lamp, and they looked around. The warehouse appeared to be empty; there were no zombies, weapons, or anything else to be seen, just a few empty crates and general debris.

“Look at this,” said Tarrel, pointing to a paper pinned to the wall. “It looks like a calendar.” The others gathered round. Some dates had been circled.

“Do you suppose these are the deliveries?” asked Mordan. “The first one was a couple of days ago.”

“That fits with the weapons and the zombies arriving,” said Tarrel. “When’s the next one?” He ran his finger along the line.

“Not for almost two weeks,” said Mordan. He thought for a moment. “That makes sense. It’s five or six days by river, then a few hours overland to Fort Zombie. It would take a couple of weeks to get there, load up, and come back again.”

“So how are they covering up the zombies that go missing?” wondered Tarrel. He turned to Brey. “I don’t suppose you asked?” he said.

She shook her head. “Maybe we should go there and find out,” she said.

“Now wait a minute,” said Solly. “I may have fooled the goon outside with this act—for a couple of minutes in the dark, remember—but I’m not going all the way to Fort Zombie to try it again! Besides, I hate boats!”

“Easy,” said Tarrel. “You won’t have to. For one thing, they’re expecting our boy to stay here and take care of business. If he shows up at the other end, they’ll know something’s wrong. We need another approach.”

Solly didn’t have time to reply. There was a strangled cry from the half-orc outside, and then something flew in through one of the high-set windows. It broke on the floor with a sound like crockery, and suddenly everything went dark.

Mordan became aware of the sounds of fire and the smell of smoke. He heard several more crashes as he groped in the magical darkness, trying to find a way out. He headed in what he thought was the direction of the back door, but tripped over something and fell into a pile of burning debris. By the time he had beaten out the flames on his clothes, he had no idea where he was. From the noise and shouting around him, he surmised that the others were in a similar predicament.