Euan picked his way carefully through the shattered planks. His well-oiled leather boots sank slowly into the wet grey sand and the slow, thick squelching sound of his footfall gave him a childlike sense of satisfaction. He stood silently on the quiet beach, staring at his feet the sand slowly enveloped them, watching as they sank slowly beneath the surface.
After a few peaceful minutes he remembered himself. He reluctantly pulled himself free (not without some minor difficulty) and straightened himself up. He finally allowed himself to fully observe the splintered chaos of the wreckage. It was a war ship alright but now only the shattered and skeletal hull of a warship, this hidden cove to be its graveyard. Those traveller’s had spoken true. He congratulated himself on his gut instincts, he had known his new friends wouldn’t have sent him astray. He smiled, as he opened his leather bound sketch pad and made a shorthand note of the broken vessels location. He would later transfer the details carefully in indigo ink to the vellum parchment he had carefully wrapped and holstered across his back. He guessed he was likely the luckiest journeyman in the guild. First slipping through the blockades in the North unscathed, then avoiding the roving Griffon the farmers had warned him of, then, within days, meeting such an interesting group of new friends! It was likely all downhill from here he thought, grinning wryly to himself. He didn’t believe that. Not for one minute.
He thumbed back over his coarse yellowed journal pages, pausing to admire his portrait linework. He had captured the essence of those impossibly high cheekbones, the lean flowing lines of her stance and even some of her main feathers. He would work on the shading later tonight, just the base tones and a few choice highlights – he wanted to capture the way the sunset was playing off her eyes as she walked through that waist-high wheatgrass. While it was still burning in his memory. Smiling even more broadly now he stowed the book carefully in his inner pocket, and he stepped forward into the ships carcass. He counted the bodies that were strewn across the strand, the red cloaks of Namburg now a dark maroon, soaked by blood and waves. Forty men, Fifty perhaps? Soldiers all.
The smell of the softening, rotting wood and brine wafted into his nostrils as he dipped his head under an overhanging plank. There was shade here from the sun and as his eyes adjusted to the darkness he made his way through the timber maze. He stopped to run his hand over the enormous, hull spanning hole, its edges jagged and warped, as if ripped from their place be a giant club. He shuddered as he wondered what could cause such damage.
Wading now through with the water lapping around his thighs, he made his way to the back of the ship. He gingerly plucked up a bobbing spear shaft and prodded a bloated figure out of his way and guided it gently into a far corner. He pushed past an gilded oaken chest as it floated past him, and clambered up the rear stairs into the Captain’s chambers.
The stench was intense, overpowering almost and Euan covered his mouth with his sleeve as he advanced into the hotbox. The figure of the captain lay slumped over a desk, a chandelier embedded inelegantly into his back. The floor lay blanketed by assorted parchments, maps, letters and books, some damp, others tattered. Some papers never made it to the floor and were pasted with blood to the Captain’s longcoat ,clotted into the fibres. Euan picked up blood-soaked map and frowned as he skimmed it. Thoughtful for a few minutes, he shrugged and folded them into his inner pocket. Every little helped.
_____________________________________________________________________
“Suicide Pact”
“Hmmmmm”
“Open shut case Sarge. See if all the time”
“You think so?”
“Oh ya. Trust me boss”
Mario leaned against the cool stonework of the alleyway and gently massaged his temples. He tried to massage away the drudgery. Tried to massage away the stupidity. It wasn’t working.
“Look I know you’re new Sarge, but this alleyway is famous for suicides. I once saw two people stab themselves in the back here , then hide their own bodies in the shit-wagon”
“You mean to tell me, that four men independently gained access to the roof of four different buildings, and despite no believable motivation or suicidal indication prior to this, all independently decided to jump to their death.”
“Well yes”
“Simultaneously.”
“uhhh.. yes… Sarge”
“With their weapons drawn. With a slashed-up net on the ground beneath them”
“ Well.. uh.. I guess they… “
“ And this guy set fire to himself, while his friend appears to have punctured himself multiple times with a sharp object before jumping from a roof with a sword in his hands, backwards and landing on his crossbow.”
“Who knows the minds of the religious zealot , eh Sarge?”
Mario restrained himself. He had preferred working with Dave, but Ignatio was his man now, so he was going to have to learn not to run him through with his rapier every time he spoke. He picked his way through the wreckage, looking at the torn segments of rope. He ran his fingers along the charred wall, and positioned himself until he could take in every line and angle of soot, every scorch-mark. He looked down at the net he was standing on. He checked his sight-lines. He had seen this before.
“There was a mage here” he said, pointing to the ground beneath him.
“Are you sure sarge”
His sword hand twitched imperceptibly..
“Ingatio, a mage stood here and incinerated that man, he was either under … wait.. ”
There was no charring on the netting.
“He had avoided a net, something his companion had not managed. The gentleman in the south was attacked by an unconventional thrusting weapon from the rooftop and most likely was pushed while he faced down his assailant. As for those two in the north.. I have no idea. One may have slipped. Two? I know not yet.”
Ignatio stood saucer eyed looking at his new Sargent.
“ You .. you sure? Wow.. that makes a lot of sense really. So this Mage and his friends, attacked these four men on the roof top? I’ll let Captain Sofia know. ”
Mario squinted down the alleyway at the trail of blood leading to the North. Somebody escaped the carnage.
“ No need Ignatio, leave the rest to me. I will report to the captain personally.”