Chapter 78. Too Calm to Be Innocent

Chapter 78: 78. Too Calm to Be Innocent

Depot Greywater squatted at the edge of the ford like a stone toad.

It was a big place... I’d expected a village of cabins and sheds.

What we found was a walled compound at least as long as a town block, with a low stone wall, two watchtowers, and a cluster of huge gray warehouses with sloped slate roofs.

A proper road ran through the main gate, and a line of empty wagons waited outside it, with their traces coiled neatly on the seats.

The Royal Crystal Guard’s pennant snapped over the gatehouse, a pale blue tower on a black field.

It was a few minutes before noon, and the sun was sitting high and bright in a cloudless sky.

"Quiet," Laura observed.

"Yeah... Very quiet," I said.

I’d seen a lot of garrisons in the last week, and they were all alike. There was always noise.

Guards shouting, carts rattling, hammers banging in the smithy, but this place... it was silent.

A handful of men in blue surcoats stood on the walls, perfectly still, with their spears at their sides. Another pair flanked the gate.

They watched us approach with the faintly bored politeness of men who had been told to expect us.

’They knew we were coming,’ I thought.

I wasn’t surprised, exactly. The Council had written our itinerary.

But it was one thing to know it, and another to watch it come true in front of me.

The gate swung open before we reached it, and a tall man in a gleaming breastplate strode out to greet us with both hands outstretched.

He was about forty, with a handsome, open face and dark hair going silver at the temples, and he moved with the easy confidence of a man who had never been told no.

A neat gold badge on his collar read ’CAPTAIN.’

"Welcome, welcome!" he cried. "Sir Ravenshield, Lady Ainzfield, and Lady Sanford! I’m Captain Joren Alder, commander of this depot!"

"We’ve been expecting you! Please, come in, come in... make yourselves at home!"

He seemed to mean it. His smile was wide and warm.

He had a firm handshake and a ready laugh. He sent runners flying in every direction, bellowing for a healer, a cook, a farrier, and a barber, and he offered Sharon his own quarters and Garrick a private room in the infirmary.

I watched him work, and the longer I watched... the more my skin crawled.

Because here was the thing. We looked terrible.

We were covered in blood and soot and mud. And what makes it worse that... half of us were limping.

Our wagon had a hole in its side the size of a dinner plate, and one of our men was carried out on a stretcher.

Any normal officer, seeing that, would have asked what in the hell had happened.

But Alder didn’t ask... Not even once.

"Quite a journey!" he said, in a hearty voice, clapping me on the shoulder. "We’ve all heard of your exploits, of course~!"

"Do come in! You must be exhausted."

"We were attacked," I said.

"Were you?! How dreadful." He didn’t blink. "These roads are so dangerous these days."

"Bandits, am I right? And the monsters... they’re terrible with the northern surge."

"There were soldiers."

"Dear me."

I looked around the yard. And the guards were clean.

Their boots were polished.

Their surcoats were pressed, and their faces were clear and rested. Not a single one of them looked as though he’d been up in the night.

No one appeared worried.

No one seemed to have heard anything, or seen anything, or wondered where the lights and noise on the ridge had come from.

A garrison within five miles of an ambush, and nobody was curious.

’They’re too calm,’ I thought. ’They know exactly what happened.’

Sharon stepped forward, with her arm in a sling and her face carefully blank. She pulled something small and wooden from her belt and held it out on her palm.

It was the tally stick.

"I’m looking for a man named Bram," she said. "Your storekeeper... Commander Hallis sent me."

"He said Bram would have the other half."

Alder looked at the stick. A flicker passed across his face, too quick to read, and then the smile was back.

"Bram!" he said. "Oh, dear... What a shame."

"I’m afraid he’s not here."

"Where is he?"

"Gone to visit his daughter... She lives in the hills, you know."

"Took a fortnight’s leave about two weeks ago... I’d be happy to pass on a message."

"A fortnight," said Sharon.

"He’s an old man... He gets homesick."

I wasn’t looking at Alder anymore. I was looking past him, at the nearest warehouse.

A row of wooden pegs ran along the wall beside its door, and on one of them hung a shabby brown coat and a battered gray cap.

They were old and patched, dusty with a thick layer of grime, and they had clearly been hanging there for a long time.

’An old man who goes on a two-week trip in the cold,’ I thought, ’and leaves his coat behind.’

Beside me, Laura had gone very still.

I followed her gaze to a long wooden shelf inside the gatehouse, where a row of brass nameplates had been screwed to the wood.

One was missing... There was a pale rectangle where it had been, with four small screw holes at the corners.

Beneath it, in faded paint, I could read half a word. ’...AM.’

’They took the sign down,’ I thought. ’They didn’t even fucking bother to repaint the shelf.’

Alicia’s hand touched my elbow, so lightly that nobody else could have noticed. I squeezed it once.

And she understood.

"Captain Alder," she said, brightly. "You’re very kind... I’m afraid we can’t accept your hospitality, though."

"We’re escorting a prisoner on a sensitive transfer, and the regulations are very strict... He can’t be housed in any facility that hasn’t been formally inspected."

"I assure you, my depot is entirely..."

"Of course it is! But rules are rules." She smiled, a bright, charming, utterly implacable smile. "We’ll camp nearby."

’There’s an old chapel about three kilometers south... It looks defensible."

"We’ll accept your offer of a healer and some supplies, and we’ll be out of your way by tomorrow."

Alder stared at her. I watched the smile freeze, crack, and slowly reassemble itself.

"As you wish, Lady Ainzfield," he said. "Whatever you need..."

"You’re a gentleman." Alicia smiled.

"I do my best."

He bowed. He kept smiling.

But as he turned away, I caught a glimpse of his face in profile, and it wasn’t the face of a cheerful host anymore... It was the face of a man who had just been handed a very inconvenient problem and was already working out how to solve it.

...

The chapel had been a pretty place once.

It sat on a low rise beside a stand of ancient yews, about three kilometers south of the depot, a small, square building with a collapsed bell tower and no roof.

Ivy had swallowed most of the walls.

The windows were empty arches.

Inside, a row of stone benches ran along one side, and at the far end stood a cracked altar, with a faded mural above it showing a woman holding a lamp. It smelled of damp stone and moss.

It was also, as Alicia had pointed out, a good defensive position.

The walls were thick, the approaches were open, and there was a single narrow doorway that could be held by two people.

We hauled the wagon into the nave, posted the guards, and settled in to wait for dark.

I slept for about five hours, which was the first real rest I’d had in days.

When I woke, the sun had gone down, and the sky above the broken roof was a deep, dusky blue.

Somebody had made soup.

Somebody else had changed my bandage.

Laura sat beside me with her back against the wall and her eyes closed... though I wasn’t sure she was asleep.

"We should go," Alicia said, softly.

I sat up.

She was crouched by my side in a dark cloak, with her hair pulled back in a tight knot and a dagger at her belt.

She looked fresh and sharp and perfectly awake. Behind her, Laura had opened her eyes, and she was already reaching for her sword belt.

"You two look ready."

"We’ve been ready for an hour," said Laura.

"You could have woken me up..."

"You needed that sleep."

"I’d have been fine."

"You would not." She stood and tugged her cloak straight. "Keep your voice down."

"Sharon and Eveline are going to watch the outer wall... We’ll go in over the east side."