Shadowguard

"If that's the attitude you lot have, then you may as well hand over your badges and cart your sorry asses out the door." Wil's words were like knives, edged with thinly veiled malice and disgust. "Maybe it's for the best. You idiots clearly can't even pay attention to what's going on around you."

Every eye in the room settled on him — on her. Everna's hand dropped to her sword, the familiar leather-wrapped hilt a small comfort. The action didn't go unnoticed. Two of them, who appeared to be siblings, reached for their own weapons as well.

"You cannot be serious!" the pompous woman scoffed. She turned to face Wil and placed her hands on her hips, a mess of bejeweled rings glittering on her fingers. "I couldn't care less if that broad was standing there. I am not leaving, nor am I risking my life because you want to play hero. She's leaving now, and I will not accept no for an answer. Gods knows we don't need her spreading whatever diseases she has."

Everna scowled. Everything from the disgustingly lavish dress wrapped around her willowy frame to the way she turned her nose up at the sight of her reeked of privilege. She reminded her of the noble daughters she'd dealt with at the academy; haughty and arrogant.

Looking at her now, Everna could place the accent. Anwellians were notorious for their presumptuous flare and abject disregard for those they perceived as beneath them. The corruption that ran rampant within their kingdom's nobility was the very reason Inverness's court system contained various safeguards to limit the power of the ruling factions.

"You'll accept whatever answer I give you."

The man who spoke was much older than the rest, his dark hair peppered with strands of gray. An air of authority, one that strangely reminded her of her mother when someone tested her patience, surrounded him. His tone brokered no argument, and though she seemed pained to do so, the brunette clamped her mouth shut.

"And since you all seem to have forgotten what Shadowguard does, let me remind you," he continued. The other three shrank beneath the weight of his glare, curling into themselves like scolded children. "Sticking our necks out for people is the point of everything we do. If you can't even follow the most basic demands of the organization, you have no business being here. I hear one more complaint from any of you and I'll throw the lot of you out. Do I make myself clear?"

When no one voiced their dissent, he waved them off.

The brunette stomped her foot, a half-choked shriek slipping past her gritted teeth, and stormed for the stairs. Everna stepped out of her way, narrowly avoiding the shoulder aimed at hers. Wil's foot shifted, almost as if he meant to trip her, but he seemed to think better of it. The other two, thoroughly admonished, shuffled off through the door behind the bar. Only Leah, who sat at a table on the far side of the room, remained.

"Don't pay Vina any mind," Leah said with an apologetic smile. "The bark is worse than the bite."

Everna blew out a sigh. "But no less annoying."

The man, whom she assumed was Osain, turned to her, his eyes narrowed. He looked at her the way one looked at a complicated puzzle — with critical appraisal and a touch of curiosity. It was difficult not to squirm beneath the intensity of his gaze.

"So you're the one who's been causing so much trouble lately," he said. "Can't say I understand why."

Some would take offense to such a statement, but Everna wasn't so easily put off by the truth. She didn't understand it either. Beyond Windmore's utter insanity and his vendetta against her family, she couldn't think of a single reason someone would target her with such persistence. Her parents made many enemies during their adventuring days, but she was not her parents. There weren't tales of her exploits penned into the pages of a book or imprinted upon the strings of a lyre. There wasn't a plaque or a statue dedicated to her heroics in the kingdom's capital.

She was nothing but a lowly barmaid in a small town tavern.

"Unless it's my parents they're after, I couldn't tell you," she admitted. "Considering who's involved, I can't help but wonder if that's the case."

Osain dismissed her speculations with a shake of his head. "Shroud doesn't beat around the bush. If they were after your parents, you wouldn't be the one standing here."

Everna frowned. "Shroud?"

"The antithesis of Shadowguard," Wil said, startling her. She'd forgotten he was there. "They once controlled the entire region, until Shadowguard forced them to retreat into the northern half. They've been trying to regain that control since."

That explanation made little sense to her. She'd never heard of such an organization, nor had she heard of a unifying force within the region. A few exceptions aside, Trellan was never anything more than a collection of scattered, independent kingdoms with minimal contact and limited political relations.

"They're pure evil," Leah spat, as if the words were poison on her tongue. "A death cult, and one of the worst in the region. There are no words, in any language, strong enough to express how vile they are."

"What would an organization like that want with me?" Everna asked.

"That's the golden question, isn't it? If you were in a position of power, it'd makes sense," Osain said. "Shroud doesn't deal with the common folk, at least not in the way they are with you. They'd sooner slaughter you in the name of their god and toss your body on the altar."

Everna repressed a shudder. "And what makes you think this... Shroud is after me?"

Wil jabbed his finger into her shoulder, right where the arrow struck her the night before. "Because that's who came after us in the woods. They're the only ones who use the arrow you got hit with."

"And praise the Golden Lady, you had enough sense not to pull it free," Leah interjected. "Those arrows are rather nasty. Had you removed it yourself, you'd have lost your arm, if not bleed to death first. Internal damage isn't easy to mend, even for a skilled cleric."

Again, she forced aside a shudder. When Andryll was first teaching her to shoot, she'd made the mistake of pointing the bow downward while drawing the string. Her hand slipped, and she'd spent the following hour seated on the bar, a rag between her teeth, as her mother removed the arrow from her foot. It took three healing potions to mend the damage, and she still had a scar both on top and beneath the arch of her foot.

Andryll had given her the lecture of the century after that one.

"From what we've gathered so far, their plans in Pendel hinged on your execution," Wil said, bringing the conversation back to the subject at hand.

"Were they to hang me, the Courts wouldn't look further into Mayor Ashburn's assassination," she muttered. "It would close the case."

Inverness had several quirks in the laws that encouraged framings. Once the Courts adjudicated a verdict, regardless of the outcome, the case closed. They couldn't accept evidence submitted after the fact, even if to the contrary, and they could only use the previously submitted evidence during an appeal. For that reason the Courts took their time; they had to be thorough and not overlook anything.

In her case, however, they never released an official verdict; they merely dropped the charges, and done so early enough to reinstate the case later on if needed. Until the Courts announced their verdict, the investigation would continue, though to what extent remained to be seen. As the oldest and longest-serving member of Pendel's guard, Captain Windmore would assume Sir Swiftbrook's position until the capital dispatched another knight to take his place.

It would be utterly foolish to think he would do his duty properly.

"And I suspect the Courts knew that was the intention," Wil agreed. "At least, the more rational of them. Some wanted to try you as an accessory to murder to avoid closing the case."

"They couldn't," she countered. "That would imply I knew of the murder and aided it, which I didn't, nor do they have evidence that I did. If anyone would catch that charge, it'd be Windmore."

And she was back to square one. With the Guard compromised and her all too public escape from town, she had no recourse against Windmore's ploy. Even if she informed the Courts of his admission, they would question the circumstances that led to it, which would only complicate her case. Windmore would lie, and she suspected the Courts would sooner take his word over hers.

"Gods, there's no way out of this, is there?"

"Not without jumping through Shroud's hoops," Osain said. "Shroud's agents have limited contact with each other to ensure the capture of one won't jeopardize their plans."

Assuming Windmore was in league with this mysterious cult, arresting him would get her nowhere. She would need to find the ringleader, and undeniable proof against Windmore's claims, to persuade them to declare her innocent.

Her head hurt just imagining the mental game she'd have to play once — if — she ever saw the stand.

"The good news is that Shroud always has a handler nearby," Osain said. "There's always a Taskmaster that knows the full plan. Someone has to give the grunts their orders."

"Snuff out the pawns, and you'll eventually find your way to their Taskmaster," Leah agreed. "We know that Calden Windmore was aware of the assassination and that he was likely the one responsible for framing you. We also know there was at least one other person involved — the assassin who killed Mayor Ashburn."

Everna pinched the bridge of her nose. Shadowguard didn't have the answers she'd hoped for. Their understanding of the situation was only slightly better than her own.

"I heard rumors that Windmore's son intended to run in the upcoming election," she said. "Whether they're true, it's a clear motive for the assassination."

"That's the first I'm hearing of this," Wil said.

Everna glared at him. "Banor, the smithy, said he'd heard those rumors. I'd also reached the conclusion that something was amiss with the Guard while we were inside the post. I tried to tell you that, but you wouldn't listen to anything I had to say."

"While Wil can be more aggressive than necessary," Leah said, sounding much like a mother finding fault in her child, "we could not dismiss the possibility you weren't as innocent as you claimed. The sword was, well, a bit too obvious."

Wil rolled his eyes. "I've proved otherwise, haven't I?"

"And you did such a great job," Osain drawled. "Neither of you can set foot in the town again, and now I have to find someone else to do the job you should've been doing."

Everna cleaned her throat. "What am I supposed to do now?"

Osain's expression softened, if only just, as he turned back to her. "If Shroud is so desperate to have you killed, then the best thing we can do is keep you alive. You'll be staying here until we get a handle on the situation."

Not like I can do anywhere else, she thought. She may as well be a fugitive now. If she set foot inside the kingdom's borders, the Guard would arrest her. As far as she knew, there were no other kingdoms or settlements nearby, save the elves. They would sooner put an arrow through her skull than grant her asylum, even if she arrived bearing Andryll's grace.

"So I'm to do nothing?"

"Not nothing. We can only do so much to protect you. It'd be better for all of us if you learned to fend for yourself.” Osain jerked his thumb towards Wil. "And he's going to make sure that happens."

Wil flung his hands up in exasperation. "Oh, sure. It's not like I have nothing else to do."

"Not anymore, you don't. You dragged her into this, more than she should've been; she's your responsibility," Osain said with finality. "Besides, I don't trust the others not to scare her off."

Leah rose from her seat then and motioned towards the second door set into the wall behind the bar. "Well, with that settled, let's see about getting your something to eat before Wil puts you through the wringer, shall we?"