Chương 81: Chapter 61: Max - Greenglade (Part 1)

The road west from Stonebridge wound through low hills and thinning farmland before bending toward Greenglade. The journey took them most of the day. They passed scattered homesteads and grazing pastures, the land slowly growing more settled the farther they traveled. Stone fences divided the fields more carefully here, and several small watch posts overlooked the road where the terrain dipped into narrow valleys. Greenglade announced itself long before they reached its gates.

A wooden palisade rose across the ridge ahead of them, taller and thicker than the crude defenses of Stonebridge. Two square watchtowers flanked the road where it passed through the main gate, each with a small platform roofed against the weather and manned by guards who watched the road carefully. The town beyond the wall spread wider than Stonebridge had.

Chimneys smoked steadily above rows of sturdy timber buildings, and a mill wheel turned slowly in the creek that curved along the western edge of the settlement.

"Bigger place," Cass observed.

"And better prepared," Borin added. The guards on the towers had spotted them long before they reached the gate. One leaned over the rail as they approached, hand resting on the pommel of his sword.

"State your business," he called down.

"Adventurers," Max replied.

"Sent from Brindleford." The guard studied the five of them for a long moment, his eyes moving over their armor, their weapons, and the road dust still clinging to them from the day's travel.

"Wait there." He disappeared from the rail. A moment later voices sounded behind the gate, followed by the scrape of heavy bars being drawn back. The doors creaked open just wide enough to admit them. A broad man in a town watch surcoat stepped out to meet them. He carried himself with the stiff, practiced bearing of someone used to following orders.

"You'll come with me," he said.

"Headwoman Brenna will want to speak with you directly." Max nodded once.

"Lead on." The guard turned and brought them through the gate. Greenglade felt different from Stonebridge immediately. The streets were wider, paved with stone, and more orderly. Several guards moved through town in pairs, and the people who glanced at the newcomers did so with curiosity rather than fear. Merchants were still packing away the last of their goods for the evening, and the clang of a blacksmith's hammer carried faintly from somewhere near the center of town.

Their escort led them through the main street toward the square, where a broad, well-muscled woman stood waiting, arms folded beneath a thick wool cloak that hung over her shoulders. Two guards stood a few paces behind her, eyes scanning the square. She watched them approach, measuring them with a cool, assessing gaze.

"You're the adventurers sent from Brindleford," she said.

"Good. I'm Headwoman Brenna." She gestured briefly toward the men behind her.

"Captain Rulon. Guardsman Alex." The guards inclined their heads toward the party. Max returned the gesture.

"Max Hayes. These are my companions." Brenna's eyes moved over each of them in turn. Her eyes lingered on the dried blood not fully scrubbed from a few edges of leather and steel and the wear in their posture.

"You look like you've already seen real work."

"We have," Max replied.

"Good," Brenna said bluntly.

"I've no use for theatrics. I need people who know what they're doing." Borin stepped forward slightly.

"Then tell us what happened." Brenna nodded once.

"A week ago there was a border skirmish west of town. Valdarin patrol against a Kharvosi raiding band. Small by the standards of war, large enough to leave bodies in the field." Her mouth thinned into a line.

"When our people went out to collect the dead and see them properly handled, six bodies were missing. Not looted, as we see from time to time, but gone entirely." Elias frowned slightly.

"How do you know how many were missing?"

"The Valdarin patrol leader gave us a count before they moved on. He said there were twenty-two dead left on the field after the fighting. When we went out there the next morning, there were only sixteen bodies. I don't believe the man forgot how to count. Six of those were brought back here to be prepared for burial. The rest were burned or buried closer to the field." Her gaze stayed steady on them.

"Two of those we brought back never made it into the ground. They were taken from the temple holding room just last night." Borin grunted.

"Nasty business. Any idea what happened?" She gave a small dismissive breath.

"My guess is they didn't get enough bodies at the field, so they came inside the walls for more. We sent word to Brindleford immediately after. Missing dead this close to the border is trouble no matter the reason." The party exchanged quick glances. Max spoke first.

"This might be connected to Stonebridge." Brenna's expression focused immediately.

"What happened there?" Max gave her the short version. Graves disturbed, eighteen bodies taken and defiled. The dead rising under some form of control. The Stitched Abomination built from several corpses. When he finished, the silence in the square felt colder than the evening air. Alex shifted uneasily. Rulon didn't move, but his face hardened. Brenna turned to him at once.

"Rulon. Curfew. Starting tonight." He straightened.

"How long?"

"A few days to start," she said.

"Longer if needed. No one outside after sundown unless they're on assigned watch."

"Yes, ma'am."

"Double the watch as well," Brenna continued.

"Main gate, western wall, and the road approaches. I want more eyes on the dark until we know what we're dealing with." Rulon nodded.

"It'll be done." Brenna looked at the darkening sky, then back to Max and the others.

"It's late. You've had a long road, and from the look of you, worse before that. Rulon will get you settled. In the morning, he'll take you through town and out to the battlefield." Max inclined his head.

"Understood." Brenna gave a single curt nod.

"Good." Then she turned and strode off across the square, Alex falling in beside her as she went. Cass watched her go.

"She's direct." Rulon gave a short chuckle.

"That she is." He motioned for them to follow and started toward the eastern side of the square.

"She's always been like that," he said.

"Not much patience for talking when something needs doing."

"Military?" Elias guessed. Rulon glanced back at him and nodded.

"Valdarin army. She served for years before coming home. This close to the Kharvosi border, being soft gets people killed, and Brenna knows it." His expression eased slightly.

"People trust her. She's hard, but she gets things done." They turned down a broader side street lined with sturdier buildings than most they had passed near the gate. Lantern light spilled warmly from a large two story inn ahead of them. A weathered wooden sign hung from an iron bracket, painted with a deep green stag rearing against a pale forest backdrop. The paint was faded and chipped in places, but the stag's antlers still curled proudly, catching the light. Beneath it, faded lettering read: The Green Stag.

Rulon stopped outside and turned back to them.

"You'll be staying here," he said.

"Get some rest. I'll be back in the morning." Borin nodded.

"Good." Rulon rested a hand lightly on his sword belt.

"We'll have better luck with daylight and clear heads." He stepped back and gave them a nod.

"Get some sleep." With that, he turned and headed back toward the square. The common room inside the Green Stag was busy but orderly. Greenglade had already begun adjusting to Brenna's orders. By the time the sun dipped low and disappeared beyond the palisade, the streets outside had grown noticeably quieter as townsfolk returned home ahead of curfew. The party met Captain Rulon outside the Green Stag just after sunrise the next morning.

The guard Captain had clearly been moving through town since well before dawn, and the hem of his cloak carried a faint layer of dust.

"I've got a few people ready to talk," he said once they joined him.

"We'll start at the Temple. That's where the two bodies were taken, and a priest's waiting for us there." They set off together. In the morning light, Greenglade's order stood out even more clearly than it had the evening before. Buildings were spaced with intention, the main roads ran wide between them, and elevated watch posts stood at several important intersections where guards could look down multiple streets without obstruction.

Rulon led them toward the western side of town, where the Temple stood not far from the palisade. The main building was broad and built from pale stone, but Rulon didn't take them toward the front entrance. Instead, he led them around one side and into the narrow strip of packed earth behind it. A smaller stone chamber had been built directly against the rear wall of the Temple, with a heavy wooden door opening into a small yard enclosed by a squat fence. A priest was already waiting beside it.

He was an older man with thinning gray hair and plain brown robes beneath a heavier winter cloak. He greeted Rulon with a tired nod before looking over the five adventurers.

"These are the ones from Brindleford?" he asked. If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation. Rulon nodded.

"They're investigating the missing bodies." The priest looked briefly toward the closed door behind him.

"Then I hope you find more than we did. Come." He turned and led them through the small gate toward the door. Max glanced toward the attached chamber.

"This is where you keep the dead?"

"Until burial, yes." The priest rested one hand against the door.

"We bring them in through here. There's no reason to carry a body through the sanctuary when this room can be reached directly from outside."

"Battlefield dead too?" Borin asked.

"When they're brought into town." Before the priest could open the door, Alina slowed.

"Wait." She had drifted several steps ahead of the others and now stood near the far corner of the mortuary chamber, studying the packed dirt between the building and the palisade. Then she crouched. Max moved over beside her as she brushed aside a thin layer of loose dust with her fingertips. Several sets of footprints overlapped in the narrow space. Most were indistinct from ordinary traffic around the Temple, but beneath them ran a more deliberate pattern. Alina traced one impression, then another.

"Hobnails." Cass came closer.

"Same size?"

"Some of them." Alina shifted along the wall.

"And the stride stays almost identical here." She pointed toward a narrow line of prints that ended close to the rear corner of the building before turning back.

"More than one person. They were moving together." Rulon joined them and looked down.

"Behind the Temple."

"Behind the room holding the bodies," Max corrected. Alina rose, brushing dirt from her fingers.

"They weren't just wandering around. They came straight here." Elias studied the narrow ground between the mortuary wall and the palisade.

"And stayed long enough to leave repeated tracks."

"Waiting?" Rulon asked.

"Probably," Elias said.

"They could've been waiting for darkness, a change in the watch, or anyone nearby to leave." The priest rubbed one hand slowly over his jaw.

"The room was unattended for perhaps an hour after evening prayers." Cass glanced toward him.

"Is that normal?"

"No. Normally one of the attendants stays nearby until the final bell. But we had two sick families requesting prayers that evening, and both attendants were needed inside." Rulon swore quietly.

"Someone could've known that?" The priest hesitated before answering.

"Anyone watching the Temple could have seen them leave their usual duties." Cass looked again toward the tracks.

"Might've been enough." Rulon turned toward the mortuary door.

"Let's see what they were waiting for." The priest pulled the door open. It led directly into a cool stone room. There was no passage into the sanctuary beyond. The mortuary was self-contained, built for the practical work of preparing and holding bodies before burial. The air carried faint traces of dried herbs, oil, and old stone. Narrow windows sat high along the walls, too small for anyone to climb through, and several wooden tables stood arranged in two neat rows. Everything looked orderly. Too orderly.

The priest remained near the doorway as the party entered.

"We stopped using the room as soon as we discovered the bodies missing," he said.

"Nothing has been moved since, except what was necessary to confirm they were gone." Max took in the chamber. No overturned furniture. No scattered tools. Cloths remained folded along one wall, and washed basins sat upside down where someone had left them to dry. Cass moved ahead of him. She passed the first empty table, then the second, crouching briefly beside each to inspect the stone floor.

"No struggle." The priest frowned.

"There shouldn't have been one. They were dead." Cass glanced up at him.

"I mean whoever took them wasn't interrupted." She ran two fingers along the floor beside one table.

"No hurried footsteps. No stool knocked aside. No dropped equipment." She moved to the second.

"And nothing was dragged." Max looked toward the empty tables.

"They carried them." She nodded.

"Looks that way." Elias stepped farther into the room and studied the distance between the tables and the exterior door.

"Not difficult with enough people."

"No," Cass said.

"And they weren't rushing." Rulon frowned.

"No one reported noise that night. Nothing from behind the Temple, nothing along this street." Cass straightened.

"Then they knew what they were doing." She gestured toward the door behind them.

"They knew exactly where the bodies were. They knew this room had its own entrance. They knew when it would be unattended, or they watched until it was. Then they carried two bodies out without knocking over so much as a basin." Max looked once more around the chamber. Combined with the tracks outside, the absence of disorder told them almost as much as a broken lock would have. He nodded toward the door.

"We're not going to learn much more in here." Rulon glanced toward the priest.

"Anyone else we should speak to before we move on?"

"The attendants already told your men everything they know." Rulon nodded.

"Then we keep moving." They stepped back out through the mortuary door into the morning air. Rulon led them through the quieter side streets.

"There's something else I want you to see," he said.

"One of my guards found it after the bodies disappeared." A few minutes later they reached a small yard bordered by a weathered wooden fence. An elderly woman stood waiting beside it, arms folded against the morning cold. Rulon nodded toward her.

"Mistress Tella." She pointed toward a rough splinter where two fence boards met.

"Found it caught right there the morning after," she said.

"Blue thread. Stood out because nobody in my house owns anything that color." Rulon reached into a small pouch at his belt and handed the thread to Cass.

"One of my men collected it when she reported it." Cass held the short strand between her fingers and examined it closely.

"Good dye. Clean weave too."

"Local?" Max asked, his eyes flicking to Tella. She shook her head.

"Not anything cheap, at least. Blue is hard to come by this close to the border." Borin studied the fence, then the narrow lane running past it.

"Uniform cloth, maybe?"

"Could be," Elias said.

"Or something they used to wrap the bodies before carrying them." Cass crouched beside the fence and examined the splinter where the thread had snagged.

"Whoever was carrying it passed close." She stood and looked back toward the Temple, then along the lane ahead.

"And if they came from the mortuary, this route would keep them away from the main square." Rulon nodded.

"That's what caught my attention."

"Not proof they used the whole route," Max said.

"No," Rulon agreed.

"But it tells us they came this way." Tella folded her arms a little tighter.

"Find whoever left it."

"We will," Max said. They thanked Tella and continued west.

"One more stop before the gate," Rulon said.

"There's a boy who sleeps around here. Heard metal on metal beyond the western wall the night of the skirmish. One of my guards already spoke to him, but you might get something we missed." He led them another few streets before turning toward a narrow alley squeezed between a cooper's shop and a leaning row of cheap tenements. A boy waited near the entrance with one of the guards. He couldn't have been more than eleven or twelve.

His coat was too large for him, the sleeves folded back twice at the wrists, and dirt had worked itself so thoroughly into his hands and face that Max doubted a single wash would remove it. One boot had been patched across the toe with twine. The other didn't quite match. The moment he saw Rulon approaching with five more armed strangers behind him, his shoulders drew inward. His eyes went first to the Captain's surcoat, then to Max and Borin's weapons. Cass slowed.

She lifted one hand without looking back and motioned for the others to stay where they were. Then she went forward alone. She stopped several feet from the boy and crouched, leaving plenty of space between them.

"Easy, gutterbird." The boy blinked. Then his whole expression changed.

"You speak gutter?" Cass smiled faintly.

"Enough to know a wallmouse when I see one." The boy's eyes narrowed.

"Ain't no wallmouse."

"No?" Cass glanced toward the alley behind him.

"Then I suppose you sleep somewhere with a door?" He hesitated. Cass's smile widened slightly.

"Thought so." She tapped two fingers lightly against her own chest.

"Ran walls myself. Long time ago." Max glanced at Elias. He just gave the smallest shrug. Rulon and Alina seemed equally lost. The suspicion in his face didn't disappear, but something else joined it.

"You?"

"Smaller than you, once." He looked her over again, this time paying more attention to the daggers, fitted leather, and Copper badge.

"Huh." Cass tilted her head.

"Captain says you heard iron singing westside the night blood spilled." The boy nodded slowly.

"Thin song. Late bell."

"Scrap-song or blade-song?"

"Scrap."

"Hands working?"

"Steady hands."

"How many?" The boy scrunched his face, thinking.

"Couldn't mark it. More'n one. Maybe plenty."

"Close?" He pointed toward the western wall.

"Past timber. Out where the dead men fell."

"How long?"

"Long while."

"Moving?" He shook his head.

"Stayed put." Cass considered him.

"Anything else? Tongues? Hooves? Wheels?"

"No tongues. No hoof-song." He frowned.

"Something heavy shifted once. Maybe twice. Couldn't mark it." Cass nodded and rose. Only then did she turn back toward the others.

"He heard several people working beyond the wall for a while after dark. Metal on metal, steady rather than fighting, and they stayed in roughly the same place. No horses, no voices he could make out. He thinks something heavy was moved once or twice." Elias looked toward the western hills.

"That fits the battlefield." Max nodded.

"If they were getting the bodies ready to move, maybe they were stripping off armor. Buckles, straps, anything that'd make them harder to carry."

"Or anything they wanted to keep," Borin added.

"Either way," Elias said, "they were working the site before anyone knew bodies had disappeared." Rulon exhaled slowly through his nose.

"And they had enough time to do it carefully." Cass had already turned back to the boy.

"You did good." He shrugged and looked down.

"Wasn't nothing."

"Was something." She reached into her coin pouch. The boy noticed immediately and took a step backward.

"Soft hands. Watch already fed me." Cass counted several silver pieces into her palm. His eyes widened.

"Nah. Too heavy." She held them out. He shook his head harder.

"Too heavy." Cass's voice changed again, dropping back into the easy rhythm she had used with him before.

"Bird takes what the gutter gives." His eyes flicked up to hers.

"Gutter don't give silver."

"Did today." He still didn't move. Cass caught his wrist, turned his hand upward, and dropped the coins into his palm. His fingers closed reflexively around them.

"Bury the shine," she told him.

"One moon at a time. Different stalls, different streets. Don't let a longhand see your nest." The boy looked down at his fist.

"You don't gotta." Cass's expression softened just slightly.

"Had longhands take mine once." That silenced him. She closed his fingers more firmly around the silver, then gently poked him on the forehead.

"Not yours." He swallowed and nodded. Cass jerked her chin toward the alley.

"Now ghost it before the straights start thinking you belong to them." A grin finally broke through.

"Soft steps, gutterbird." Cass rose.

"Keep your shadow shorter than your mouth, wallmouse." His grin widened. Then he darted into the alley and disappeared between the buildings with the easy familiarity of someone who knew every broken fence, loose board, and back passage in Greenglade. Max watched him go. Then he looked at Cass.

"Wallmouse?" She turned back toward them.

"No."

"That wasn't an answer."

"It was the only one you're getting." Borin chuckled behind them. Rulon shook his head and motioned toward the western gate.

"Come on. Gate's next." They reached the western gate a few minutes later. One of the guards stepped forward when he saw Rulon climbing the steps to the top of the palisade, straightening immediately. Once they had all reached the top, Rulon nodded toward the guard.

"He had the west watch the night after the skirmish." The guard shifted slightly under the attention. Rulon looked at him.

"You said you saw lights?"

"Yes sir. But not like torches. Too faint for that. More like glimmers. Out past the fields, west of the gate." Max looked past the palisade toward the low ground where the terrain dipped before rising again toward the hills.

"Did they move?" he asked.

"Aye, but slow," the guard said.

"Not wandering. Stayed out there for a while." Elias nodded thoughtfully.

"Then they were working the site, not passing through it. The light and the tapping fit together." Max's attention remained on the western ground beyond the gate.

"Long enough to strip off the gear and get the bodies ready to move." Rulon's jaw clenched.

"And when they didn't get enough bodies out there, they came inside the walls for more. Brenna was right." Cass had already descended back to the ground and was crouched beside the heavy wooden bar that secured the gate. Her fingers brushed slowly along the surface of the wood, then moved to the latch and finally to the hinges themselves.

"Oil," she called up to them. Rulon frowned.

"We keep the hinges maintained." Cass rubbed her fingers together and lifted them briefly toward her nose.

"Not with this." She leaned closer to the latch, then the hinge nearest the bar.

"Freshly done. All of it. The bar, the latch, the hinges." The guard on duty followed Rulon and the rest of the party down the steps. He stepped nearer, leaning down and taking a sniff, then looked at it with a puzzled expression.

"That's not our oil," he said after a moment.

"Ours smells cleaner. This one's… bitter." Elias crouched on the opposite side and sniffed the wood lightly, his expression changing at once.

"I know that smell." Cass glanced at him.

"Yeah." Max looked between them.

"Stonebridge?" Elias nodded.

"The cemetery. Same bitter oil." Cass rose and brushed her hands clean.

"They treated the gate ahead of time so they could lift the bar and work the latch without the wood or metal giving them away."

"And they used the same oil in Stonebridge and here," Elias added.

"That ties these two incidents together." Rulon went still for a moment, taking in the gate, the road beyond it, and the implications settling into place one by one. For a few seconds no one spoke. Rulon looked west, toward the road that led out into the open ground beyond the wall.

"If they were out there that long," he said, "there may still be something left to find." Max nodded once.

"That's where we go next." Rulon turned to the gate guards and gave a few quick instructions before gesturing for the party to follow him. Together they passed beneath the western gate and out into the morning light, heading toward the battlefield.