A Little Light Reading

Lord Samuel Davies rode into the courtyard with his personal guard. It was mid- September. The leaves were starting to turn shades of yellow and red. The temperature had started to cool off a bit. ‘Not so hot anymore’ thought Davies. Davies had been on a ride through the city. He did this so that he could get a personal view of Anglia City. He used a network of informers and spies throughout the land, but when one gets a first-hand view of things, a view that is not filtered by someone else’s perspective, one is better served. Davies wanted to see what the commoners were doing.

By what he had seen, his reports had been confirmed. There was enough food in the capital that only the worst off had a chance of going hungry. So be it. Let them appeal to one of the Seven Faces. When the peasants and yeomen began to starve, then Davies would do something about it. The rest of the city looked in good order. Nothing of note was in a state of disrepair. The merchants seemed to be doing a brisk business, which meant taxes ought to be in good shape. He dismounted from his horse and walked into an inner corridor. He dismissed five of his guards. The other came with him, and would be in position outside Davies’ quarters.

As he walked along the corridors, several servants asked questions of minor importance. The questions were answered in short reply. One met him at his door. This was not an ordinary servant, as he was really part of Davies’ network of informers. A man of average height and weight, with thinning brown hair about to turn gray. Unremarkable, and not likely to get noticed. Add in well above average intelligence and the unique ability to keep secrets, he was the ideal man for a spy. Several letters were handed to Davies, who took them and thanked the man.

Davies broke the seal on the first letter. It was a letter from a Frontier agent. There was no real news in it. The one piece of information Davies wanted was not there. The Red Wolf and Edward Hawkwood had not turned up. During the spring elections, The Red Wolf had been arrested. He had escaped within the hour, leaving five Guardsmen and house guards dead. After he had won the election, Hawkwood had been taken in custody. 200 soldiers, including Royal Crown Guards, and a number of mages had failed miserably at keeping Hawkwood from escaping. Several men had faced disciplinary measures for that blunder. Hawkwood had surfaced briefly to be sworn into the Frontier Council, and then disappeared again. And now the two biggest thorns in the side of the Kingdom of Anglia were wanted men with a price on their heads. One would think that someone might have seen the two outlaws in the last three months, but there had not been a whisper.

Another letter was from an agent near Bardstown. There seemed to be especially strong support of The Cult of the Queen Mother. Which wasn’t really surprising… What would people think if they knew the Queen’s Consort had a price on his head?

Edward Hawkwood was a problem of a more conventional sort, although with a few interesting wrinkles. The man was a mercenary soldier, a simple swordsman only ten years ago. One might have expected a soldier who lasted five years to be able to lead a few troops, but Hawkwood’s command abilities went beyond that. To say he was the best military leader from the Frontier since Thalion would be an accurate statement. He had led Anglian house troops at South Gate and had won their confidence. Considering that Agrippa Gahanna considered the man a quality commander, and that settled the argument. The man was also a born engineer who had turned his knowledge of gears and levers into war machines, the likes of which had rarely been seen. Add in that awful unquenchable fire that Hawkwood had devised, and the machines were even more dangerous. And he knew how to make the infantry, archers, cavalry, and artillery all work together in concert. That was the genius of it.

Hawkwood the conventional threat had become something more: a general who wielded Celestial magic. That probably wasn’t true, but the army believed it. And since most believed his fire was the work of sorcery, and not alchemy, the man was a Fire mage too. All of this was so much foolishness, but if enough people believed the lie, the lie was as good as truth, and made Hawkwood more fearsome.

Oh, Hawkwood had his weaknesses. It was rumored he loved the Queen of Bexar, and may have fathered her child. He had a sister who worked in the castle, or did. Davies wasn’t sure where she was now, although it was rumored that she ran with Arabella. And above all, Hawkwood loved books and gold. Large quantities of either would make the man take notice.

What was to be done? If the Clans raided, meet them in force. Davies wasn’t sure an Anglian army would want to take them on. On the other hand, desperate circumstances might weaken them. Magic might be able to help. The opportunity might exist to break the power of the Clans forever. Perhaps an expedition in the spring might be a possibility. This would require some thought.

Davies opened a letter sent from Martin’s Ferry. There were the usual reports of how the army was training. Information on visitors coming and going to the North was a bit more useful, but nothing new on that front. It was looking routine. ‘No news is good news’ thought Davies. And then he came upon the last item. The letter read the following:

“Lord Gahanna has a man teaching his engineers how to build war machines. I’d say it could be Hawkwood. He has the Dragon tattoo on the right shoulder. The machines are fully functional, and Gahanna’s men know how to build them now. The instructor is also skilled with a number of hand weapons and in hand to hand combat. I have it on good authority he carries the sword of a Royal Crown guardsman.”

The only time a Guardsman gave up his sword was when it was forcibly taken from him. ‘Wonderful’ thought Davies sarcastically. ‘General Engineer and sometimes mage and alchemist Edward Hawkwood is now working for Agrippa Gahanna. This day has taken a turn for the worst.’