Chapter 950: Old Faces

The news reached Bastos in pieces, which was usually how bad news traveled. One merchant brought word of a burned settlement in northern Lotostra. Two days later, another caravan arrived carrying rumors that it had not been the first. Soon, travelers were speaking of blackened villages, missing bodies, and enough soldiers on the roads to make everyone wonder what had happened.

Nobody agreed on who was responsible. Some blamed bandits, others claimed cultists had been seen in the region, and several merchants insisted the attackers had crossed over from the Kingdom of Sands. Demons featured prominently in the accounts of the more religious travelers.

Celine had learned long ago that rumors became uglier the farther they traveled. She paid attention to the details that remained consistent: several settlements had burned, Imperial soldiers had been dispatched, and priests were now accompanying the investigators. Whatever had been found was serious enough to require their presence.

Then another report arrived, this one concerning the Hero. Celine sat behind her desk with the notice open before her, reading the same passage for the third time. The Holy Order had finally announced that Hiro was missing.

They had chosen their words carefully. There was no declaration of death, no accusation, and no explanation for his disappearance. The public was simply being informed that the summoned Hero’s whereabouts were unknown and that any reliable information should be delivered to the nearest recognized church or Imperial authority.

"Interesting."

Celine leaned back, studying the notice. She had known Hiro was missing long before the Holy Order decided to admit it publicly. Everyone close enough to the events in Solania knew he had vanished after the collapse of the old leadership, along with Clementine and several others whose names had become increasingly unpleasant to mention.

She had assumed hiding suited him. Hiro had always behaved as though being called the Hero excused everything else about him, and disappearing once the situation became difficult seemed entirely appropriate. The Holy Order admitting they could not find him, however, meant something had changed.

An institution concerned with preserving faith could have continued saying nothing. If they merely wanted to search, they had people capable of doing so quietly. Instead, they had invited the entire Empire to begin asking where its Hero had gone.

Celine tapped a finger against the paper. The announcement sounded like preparation, perhaps an attempt to make whatever came next less shocking. Discovering a corpse would be easier to explain once the public had been given time to worry about a missing man.

"You don’t simply disappear in Ikos."

Certainly not easily, and certainly not when gods, churches, nobles, and half the continent had an interest in finding you. Ludwig would have disagreed with that, as he had every other time she raised the subject. His response was usually immediate and unhelpfully reasonable.

"Then where the fuck is the Shrike?"

Unfortunately, he had a point. Still, Hiro’s disappearance mattered less than the Holy Order’s decision to announce it. They expected the subject to become important again, and Celine intended to remember that.

She folded the notice and placed it beside the other reports. Bastos had more immediate needs, most of them caused by the welcome but demanding problem of growth. New arrivals required homes, expanding trade required space, and Ludwig remained at the White Citadel sending recommendations about defenses.

Recommendations had become a generous description. Every few days, another message arrived asking her to check the roads, increase patrols, watch the wells, or inspect new arrivals more carefully. He wanted someone near the farmland at night and the Holy Order informed whenever anything unnatural occurred.

His instructions concerning suspicious objects being buried in the territory had been particularly thorough. Celine eventually reminded him that Bastos had been her home centuries before he had set foot there. Ludwig had considered that through the communication crystal for several seconds before answering.

"Exactly. So you know which parts are easiest to attack."

Arguing further would only have encouraged him. What Celine found amusing was how quickly Ludwig had become protective of the place. The Emperor had granted him the land, but she had lived here long before he was born, died, became undead, accumulated enough enemies to populate a small country, and somehow acquired an Imperial title.

She knew the roads and remembered where the old watchtowers had stood. Some of the buildings now being constructed occupied fields she could still picture clearly. Yet Ludwig was the one leaving instructions as though she might accidentally allow someone to steal the entire Marquisate while he was away.

Celine smiled faintly before looking up at the man waiting in front of her desk.

Timur had broad shoulders, thick arms, and a chest that suggested any armor he wore would need to be specially commissioned. His clothes were meant for traveling, and old scars crossed the portions of his arms left exposed.

An even larger member of his group waited in the hallway. The barbarian was broad enough that Celine suspected he had entered the manor sideways, and she had already overheard a servant quietly hoping he would not attempt the office door. The other two companions had found places outside as well.

Melisande was long-haired, soft-spoken, and possessed the calm patience of someone who had spent years compensating for Timur. Their remaining companion Robin had contributed perhaps three words since arriving. Celine had been informed that this counted as unusually talkative.

Timur planted both hands on her desk and leaned forward. His attention flicked toward the reports before returning to her. Apparently, he had waited long enough for her to reconsider his proposal.

"You should let us patrol the western roads."

"No."

"The southern roads, then. Or the northern ones."

"No."

Timur frowned, glancing toward the window before looking back at her. Celine waited with her hands resting on the folded report. She had a reasonable idea of what came next.

"East?"

"No."

"That leaves very few directions."

"That is intentional."

He straightened and folded his arms. Celine could almost see him abandoning one argument in favor of another. It was becoming a familiar part of their conversations.

"You’re taking this too lightly. Villages are burning in Lotostra."

"Northern Lotostra. Bastos is in Lamar."

"I know where we are."

"Do you?"

His eyes narrowed while Celine maintained a pleasant expression. Timur sighed and began pacing across the office instead. Irritating him required remarkably little effort, although she suspected that was true of many things.

"I came through Lotostra. People are frightened, soldiers are on the roads, and there are priests traveling with them."

"People become frightened when rumors outrun facts. Soldiers investigating destroyed villages are expected. The priests concern me more."

"Exactly."

Timur pointed at her as though she had finally conceded something important. Celine folded her hands and waited until he stopped moving. She had no intention of letting him turn concern into permission.

"It concerns me. That does not mean I should send you wandering across Lamar looking for an enemy we have no evidence is coming here."

"Waiting for enemies to arrive is a poor strategy."

"Looking for enemies until you find one is worse. The attacks were reported far north of us, near routes leading toward Letonia and the Astorian side of Lotostra. There is an entire region between those incidents and Bastos."

"They could move. We should at least look."

"And if armed adventurers from Ludwig’s territory begin crossing provincial roads because of rumors from elsewhere, what do you think the local authorities will assume?"

Timur opened his mouth, then closed it again. He looked toward the reports as though a better answer might be written on one of them. Celine allowed him a moment before he finally grunted.

"I still don’t like it."

"You aren’t required to."

He resumed pacing, which Celine was beginning to suspect he preferred to any arrangement involving a chair. She watched him cross the office twice before deciding to address another part of the problem. His concern about the attacks was real, but it was hardly the only thing making him restless.

"If you’re worried about missing Ludwig’s return, I’ve already told you he’ll be back."

"That isn’t what I’m worried about."

"It is one of the things you’re worried about."

Timur looked away, which answered that well enough. He had arrived in Bastos asking for Ludwig, asked again after learning he was absent, then called him Davon. That last part had caused considerable confusion.

Celine initially assumed he was asking after a different adventurer. It took several more questions before she understood that Timur meant Ludwig himself. She still remembered how baffled he had looked when she challenged the name.

"Why do you keep calling him Davon?"

"Because that’s his name."

"His name is Ludwig."

"He told us Davon."

Apparently, Ludwig had traveled with this group during his earlier adventures in Bastos under an entirely different name. Celine had not yet decided whether that was suspicious or simply the sort of thing Ludwig would do. It was probably both.

Timur stopped pacing and folded his arms again. Celine recognized the stubbornness settling into his expression before he even spoke. They had already had this part of the conversation more than once.

"So when is Davon returning?"