The Barons' War
Copyright© 2025 by Lumpy
Chapter 17
Paranafn, Werna
William stood at the edge of the pier where their battered ship rested, its torn sails hanging in ragged strips. Sailors worked along the hull, removing splintered planks and cleaning off the temporary sealant they’d put on, to fully replace the damaged section.
One of the benefits of everyone staying on board was the high motivation they all had to get the job done as quickly as possible so they could get back to friendly ground and off the boat. Progress was going very quickly, although it still would be well after the start of winter before the ship was ready, which meant no matter what, they were looking at a spring departure at best.
Thankfully, they’d lost just about everything that identified them as Sidorian during their adventure, and so remained anonymous and maybe a little pitied down at the far end of the pier.
“Another day, perhaps two, before we can even begin replacing the worst of the hull planks,” the captain said. “Even then, we need proper timber. The wood these Wernans sell at the docks is green and likely to warp.”
“Buy it anyway. You said yourself we need something to patch the worst leaks, and at this point, all I want to do is get back to Rendalia. I’m not sure any sailor will want to step foot on this vessel again after the voyage anyway.”
“No. She’s cursed, that’s for sure.”
William nodded, watching a trio of sailors scrape barnacles from the exposed portion of the hull. They were making good time, but the sooner they could be out of here, the better.
“Your Highness.”
William turned to find Eskild approaching along the dock, looking concerned, which was not his natural state.
“Problems?” William asked.
“Bad news, perhaps,” he said, stepping close enough to be able to talk without being easily overheard. “I saw one of Barnabas Mercer’s men at the warehouse district.”
“Who?”
“Former cutthroat from the eastern reaches and frequent agent of Colm Thranton.”
That was a name William knew. He hadn’t spoken to the pock-faced man more than a handful of times, but he’d seen him enough. The man was as dishonorable as they came and a complete scoundrel.
Just the kind of man his father liked to employ. He’d heard a rumor that his father had even knighted the man, ancients knew why.
“Well, we knew my father had agents here. Just one more to avoid.”
“Barnabas isn’t the kind of man you send out looking for something, especially based on some kind of hunch. He’s an enforcer. A blunt tool. If he’s here, he’s here for a reason.”
William looked back at their wounded ship and frowned, trying to think of what his father could be up to. Without more answers, though, there was no way to know.
“Then we should find out what that reason is.”
“I agree,” Eskild said.
He waved Eskild to follow him and headed to the bow of the ship where Sir Drummond was keeping an eye on things.
“I need a couple of your more discreet men and then I’m leaving you in charge while Eskild and I go take a look at a possible problem down by the warehouses.”
“If it’s a problem, you should stay here and let me investigate,” the knight said.
“No. It involves my father and some of his more specialized agents. Eskild knows them and I’ve dealt with my father’s men before, so we have the best chance of figuring out what’s happening. Besides, we need you to make sure the ship repairs stay on schedule and that we can leave quickly if we need to.”
Drummond didn’t like the command, but he accepted it. What else could he do? When it came down to it, William was a prince and he was a knight. He could protest all he wanted, but the decision was ultimately William’s.
Ten minutes later, the four of them hurried as quickly through the city as they could without attracting attention. This also meant that they’d had to leave most of their armor behind. Eskild still wore his leather armor, easily concealed under a cloak, but plate would stand out. Drummond had insisted William have some kind of protection, which ended up with him wearing a patchwork collection of leather and chain borrowed from some soldiers of a similar height.
The weight felt odd to him, but he’d worn something similar when he’d trained in Starhaven, before getting real armor when he sailed to Lynese with his uncle.
The man they were looking for wasn’t at the warehouse where Eskild had left him, but it didn’t take long for the sergeant to find him again.
“That’s him,” Eskild murmured, tilting his head toward a burly man talking to three others just outside a tavern.
The man was powerfully built, with the look of someone accustomed to violence. As they watched, he finished his conversation and concluded his business and one of the men moved off, while their target and the other two turned and headed toward the north end of the city.
“Give me distance,” Eskild said, before slipping off into the crowd.
William counted to ten before following, keeping their targets just in sight as they wove through the press of bodies. They followed the scarred man through winding streets, past warehouses and shops, staying far enough back that William couldn’t see the man, only Eskild.
He didn’t doubt that the Thayan wouldn’t lose the scent.
It wasn’t easy to do, however. Eskild’s path wasn’t direct. He circled around crossing streets, doubling back occasionally. Sometimes stopping and sometimes speeding up.
The buildings became more densely packed as they moved away from the harbor, the streets narrower, making it even harder to stay with them.
Eskild slowed notably, and it took a moment for William and the other two to move out of the flow of traffic, which meant getting close enough that he was able to see their target turn down an alley between two tall warehouses.
Eskild caught his eye, held up four fingers, and then slipped into the alley behind them.
William counted to four and then said, “Come on.”
They hurried down the last few steps down the street and into the alley, worried that he might have lost both the sergeant and their prey. When they entered the narrow passage there was no sign of Eskild. Instead, the passage twisted around a corner.
William cursed and quickened his pace, putting a hand to his sword. When they rounded the bend, however, they found not Eskild but the three men they’d been following, standing with their backs to them.
William pulled up to a stop, but it was too late. The sound of their footsteps was enough to alert one of the men, who turned, his eye narrowing with suspicion as he saw William and his companions.
“Lost your way, strangers?” he asked.
“Only looking for a friend.”
“You don’t have any friends here, Prince,” the man Eskild had recognized said, pulling a knife.
Damn. He’d known when the man had spoken Sidorian that he’d been recognized, but that sealed it.
William drew his sword and took his stance, wondering where the hell Eskild was.
“Go; let them know we’ll be late. We can deal with the pup and his friends,” the man said, not taking his eyes off William.
One of the three turned and started to head down the alley away from them, only to slide to a halt and let out a shout as the sergeant suddenly appeared at the other end of the alley, sword in hand.
“It’s a trap,” the burly man snarled, and lunged forward.
What followed was brutal and swift. The man was fast, William had to give him that, and if he’d had to face the man two years ago, he would have been an easy target.
But William wasn’t that boy anymore. He’d been in dozens of battles, killed scores of men in combat, and he reacted on pure instinct. He sidestepped the man’s lunging stab, hitting his wrist with the hilt of the sword to numb it and send it off course, before lowering his blade and thrusting forward, plunging the ancient steel through the man’s chest.
The man’s eyes got large for a moment before he slipped off the blade and onto the ground.
Damnit. They needed the man alive. He’d just been so surprised when they’d nearly run into them, and it had happened so fast, he didn’t even think.
Things hadn’t gone much better next to him. The two soldiers with him had overwhelmed the other man. They were two of Drummond’s best knights, and Drummond had clearly instructed them on the importance of keeping William safe because they nearly tore the man in half, stabbing him two times each before the man hit the ground.
Eskild, at least, had the sense to disarm his man with a fast riposte before slapping the hilt of his sword into the man’s head, dropping him like a bag of wet sand.
Alive wet sand, since he was groaning and writhing on the ground.
They left the dead men and joined Eskild, who was kneeling next to the last of the trio.
William joined the sergeant in rolling the man over, lifting him up slightly off the ground. The man looked around for a moment until his eyes passed William’s shoulder and saw the bodies of his friends on the ground.
“You have a choice. Answer our questions or my friend here makes you wish the blow had killed you. You’ve heard about how Thayans like to treat their prisoners, haven’t you?”
William was pretty sure those tales were stories. Talk to make their classic enemy more frightening and menacing for effect. Eskild, however, picked up on it and gave a smile that was, frankly, terrifying.
“What do you want to know?” the man said, his gaze never leaving the sergeant.
“Barnabas Mercer. Why was he in Werna?”
When the man hesitated, Eskild brought out a dagger and placed the tip against the man’s throat. “I know your friend back there didn’t come here on his own. He’s never far from his master. I know Barnabas well enough to know he doesn’t share information freely with his men. But I also know he shares enough to ensure the job gets done. So tell us what you know. Why was he here?”
“He’s watching some acolyte,” the man gasped. “Making sure he stays safe, finds what he’s looking for.”
“What acolyte? Looking for what?” William pressed.
“Some disciple from the archivists. The man is scatterbrained and hopeless, but Barnabas said we were to watch over him. Make sure nobody interferes with or hurts him. He would have been killed by now, too, the fool.”
“What is the acolyte searching for?”
“I don’t know exactly. Some artifact. Barnabas didn’t tell us the details, and I don’t even know if he knows. Just that we’re to watch for anyone getting too close to the acolyte, keep him safe.”
“Where is this acolyte now?” William asked.