“Does this mean the game of cloak and dagger is going to be escalated to a more open conflict?” Riptide asked after Oliver’s confident announcement.

  “No.” Oliver hastily corrected himself. “At least, we aren’t.” He looked to Winslow who took up the narrative.

  “With Lord Bertrand stepping up his presence in Jestriff, his agents, both known and hidden, have become increasingly aggressive and insistent. This change in behaviour is something we can take advantage of. Heightened activity means any plans they hatch have less time to become watertight, and that’s before we’ve even done anything. We’re working on establishing a network of our own, groups capable of tracking down these plots and forcing them into the harsh light of day.” He explained, his typically deep voice rising in pitch as his enthusiasm grew.

  “Once we’ve gathered the evidence and leverage we need, we shall expose my uncle’s misdeeds for all to see. At that time the crown will be forced to take notice, and the weight of law shall bury him. We just need to keep the proverbial ship afloat until then.” Oliver concluded, his words punctuated by his fists thumping the tables several times.

  “Where is your uncle now? Is he staying within the estate?” Boozehound questioned.

  “No, he’s staying outside the city. Our family keeps a smaller summer mansion down by one of the nearby lakes. I tried to protest but he’d already turned it into his base before I heard of it, so I couldn't exactly chase him out.” Oliver complained.

  “He’s spending most of his time out there, however he’s made several trips to both the estate and the city hall over the last few days. Then there was today’s scene in the migrant camp.” Winslow added.

  “What a travesty. The sooner we can start unpicking the knot he’s tied around us the better.” Oliver continued to grumble.

  “How will we be utilised in all this?” Alter queried.

  “Like you always are, as a near unstoppable force that gets us what we want.” Oliver responded with a savage grin that quickly sobered and his voice took a serious tone. “More than once you have proven yourselves prone to causing unnecessary casualties. Or, as you have just informed us, taking them. As such, you shall be kept in reserve until we can safely make use of your abilities.”

  Alter had to admit, hearing those words stung, and with a glance at his friends he knew he wasn’t alone in that feeling. Rip and Booze seemed more contemplative than outraged, which was a comforting sight. The familiar flash of anger passed over Boats’ face but he managed to keep his mouth shut. The others were a mixture of hurt and general disgruntlement, however none made any protest.

  “Don’t give us such looks.” Winslow said with a wry chuckle. “There will be plenty of work for you soon enough, and let's not forget all the work you’ve done already.”

  “Indeed. You’ve all travelled a long way, you deserve a few days rest. That said, we should leave you to it. You shall be called for once needed.” Oliver agreed before making for the door.

  The other men watched the young lord go in silence. Winslow offered them an apologetic smile before gathering the papers and other evidence and starting to move himself.

  “I’m sorry to hear about the stable lad, and I hope it won’t cause you all too much distress. I’m sure I’ll have an update for you soon, those bloodhounds you recruited work impressively fast.” He disappeared through the door in a hurry to catch up with Oliver.

  “Those bloodhounds we recruited?” Alter asked once the footsteps had faded. “Does anyone know what that means? Because I sure don’t.”

  A collection of confused expressions met him as the rest of the squad looked at each other.

  “Did anyone get talking to anyone in the city? Perhap we inadvertently inspired somebody to sign up?” Whim suggested with a heavily sceptical tone, none confirmed his theory.

  “It could’ve just been a slip of the tongue, let’s not get too caught up on it.” Boozehound cautioned as he stretched his arms above his head and also began to walk towards the exit.

  “Where are you going?” Riptide called after him.

  “Out. There’s something I need to check up on.” Was the increasingly distant reply.

  The medic’s departure signalled the end of discussions as each man followed suit, their thoughts lost in their own worlds. Alter lingered a while longer as he mulled over what they had been told. The enemy had a name now, it was honestly a surprise that they had gotten this far without it but Oliver seemed pretty keen on never uttering it. At least they wouldn’t have to deal with the man’s large security detail within the estate at all hours. If he was turning this summer mansion into his own personal compound, then that would make him all the easier to deal with should the order be given to bring him in. He doubted that instruction would be coming any time soon though, for now he wanted to find out more about these new recruits Winslow mentioned were. Stepping out into the corridor, he was surprised to see Whim and Pavejack stealthily peering around the corner into the wing of Osprey Hall they were not using. Curious, he crept up behind them, slowly leaning forward and sticking his neck out so his head was between theirs.

  Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings.

  “What’re you looking at?” He whispered.

  “Ahh, Jesus. The hell, man?” Whim jumped at the sound of Alter’s voice so close to his ear.

  “Seriously, why are you poking your noses around the corner like a pair of schoolboys outside the girls changing room?” Alter asked again, folding his arms and fixing them with a level look.

  “There’s a group of maids we haven't seen before going in and out of the empty bedrooms with fresh bedding and all.” Pavejack explained in a hushed voice.

  “Ahh, so you’re peeking at them? I raised you two better than to commit workplace harassment.”

  “No! No, we just thought it was weird. Why are they preparing rooms we aren’t going to use?” Whim insisted as he returned to his discrete vigil.

  “Because it’s standard procedure to keep the building clean and tidy? It’s sort of in their job description.” Alter offered flatly.

  “Then why haven’t we noticed it happening before?” Pavejack protested. Suddenly, his eyes widened and a hand rose to cover his mouth as he seemed to notice something out of view.

  “Because we didn’t need to.” The imperious voice of Morgan arose from directly behind them. “However, Osprey Hall may soon be hosting more individuals, we are preparing for the eventuality.”

  “More people are moving in? Who?” Alter asked, alarmed by both her inescapable ability to appear without being seen as well as the news she brought.

  “I am not sure, but they are a small force who have recently arrived in Jestriff in order to serve Lord Masserlind. I was told you knew them. Or rather, they claimed you knew them.” She tilted her head slightly to one side as she asked the question.

  “These ‘bloodhounds’ again?” Pavejack offered.

  “I have not yet been given any specific names.” Morgan responded shortly before adding. “And I would appreciate you not making my colleagues more nervous than they already are.”

  That got the two men upright and moving away from the corner, their apologies desperate and plentiful. Satisfied, Morgan turned and soon disappeared down the nearest stairwell. Shooting his own look at the guilty pair, Alter stalked back to his room where he took the opportunity to strip off his grimy travel clothes in favour of something much cleaner. Selecting his now traditional white linen shirt and trousers, he made for the outside world. Perhaps a walk in the gardens would help him piece things together. He didn’t make it far though, as he descended the stairs the familiar voices of Boats and Riptide were mingled in friendly conversation with another voice that he recognised from somewhere else. Wandering out into the courtyard, he saw his friends chatting with a pair of familiar figures, and all the scattered pieces fell into place.

  “Huntmaster Garrosman! To what do we owe the pleasure?” He called out as he crossed over to the group.

  Raymond Garrosman, Huntmaster of the Silver Wolves, smiled warmly at his approach.

  “Good day to you, Captain Alterfate. I am pleased to see you in good health.” He offered a hand to shake which Alter took happily.

  “As am I, as am I. Good to see you too, Pendle.” Alter nodded to the man’s constant, silent companion who simply bowed his head gently in his direction.

  “We would’ve liked to get here a bit sooner, but our job back in Auserre territory took longer than anticipated. A pity you were not around when we arrived, it took all my charms just to get a solitary foot under the gate.” Raymond explained.

  “What happened?” Alter asked out of courtesy.

  “We found the first thief easily enough, and it didn’t take long to retrieve what was stolen. The second girl, though, provided us with a challenge. As predicted, she’d fled for the family home, but she’d already moved on again by the time we arrived. Fortunately, her father was more than happy to speak to us, and said that he’d threatened to kick her out for fear of reprisal once the guards found out his daughter had stolen from a wealthy family. The lass, in a total panic at this point, fled into the woods with no direction in mind. It took a day and a half of tracking before we found her, collapsed in a heap, still clutching her stolen silverware.” The Huntmaster launched into his detailed description of events.

  “What had happened to her?” Riptide chimed in, enjoying the story.

  “Dead.” Pendle interjected. “Stumbled straight into a Languid, one of them Unrepentant types.”

  “Oh.” Suffice to say, Riptide was no longer enjoying the story.

  “Which of course meant we had to report the presence of said Languid to the Marshal, who then instructed us to lead him and his forces to it. Alas, it was gone by the time we returned, we spent days traipsing around that forest looking for the invisible puddle monster. We got it, eventually, and now we’ve travelled here. I must admit, I wasn’t expected to be put to work so quickly, things are a touch more desperate around here than you made them out to be.” Raymond finished with a wry smile.

  “I’m sorry if things are not what you hoped for.” Alter stammered but Raymond raised a placating hand.

  “Not at all, my friend. In fact, we’ve been quite enjoying the challenge.” He gestured broadly to the surrounding hall. “Besides, if this is to be our lodgings, then we have absolutely no complaints. Ah, once we’ve finished our probationary period, of course.”

  Alter smiled. “I’m sure you’ll pass with flying colours, and when you do, I’ll be more than happy to give you the tour.”