You can read all installments published so far on this page.
Chapter 29: Escape from the Baron’s castle
Safely back outside the castle, Joe was talking to Rainbow about the horse, something about hay and water, and Trask assumed that meant that it was fueled up and ready to go.
Matilda waved to Rainbow as they walked past the guardhouse. “Have a nice war!”
“Stop by anytime!” Rainbow called back.
Trask sat down next to the ham in the back seat of the carriage. Matilda sprawled on the seat facing him, and Joe took the first shift driving, just visible through the little window above Matilda’s seat.
Once they were in motion and the horses had settled into a nice, steady pace, Joe looked back at them. “Did Crewe have anything useful to say?”
“No, it was a bust,” Matilda said.
“And the guy who showed up, Ellison Davo? Crewe’s brother, angling for a job,” added Trask.
“So we might have two process servers on the grid instead of one?” Joe asked.
Matilda shook her head. “I don’t think Crewe will ever come back to Krim again,” she said. “And he also didn’t seem inclined to hire Ellison, because of his criminal record.”
“But she thinks it was probably something white-collar,” Trask added. “Not mass murder.”
“I do think that.” Matilda closed her eyes. “Wake me up when it’s my turn to drive.”
Trask looked out the window and wondered what the griefers were up to now.
Or, if Crewe was right about it being someone connected to city hall, what the single griefer was doing now. Did Gully Labs do any background checks when they hired their interns or contractors? Did they even care? The griefer could be someone working for Clem Brana. Or for the Humanists. Or for Trask’s predecessor, Vorgath. Vorgath Steelhand. What an awful, pretentious name. But, from what Trask knew of him, Vorgath was an awful, pretentious character.
“Hey, Joe,” Trask said.
“Yup?”
“Do you know what Vorgath is up to?”
“Last I heard, he and Grimnar were trying to take over some city up north.”
“Oh, and did you and Matilda ever make it to the King’s Armpit last night?”
“Yeah, we took a break from the patrols while it was raining,” said Joe. “Matilda won. I made a little money betting on her, mostly against people who hadn’t met her yet. We didn’t hear any rumors of anyone trying to hire people to cause trouble. You know what I think?”
“What?”
“I think it’s someone local. They know how to get around on Krim, how to find Sidney, how to find Thomasin…”
“What about Thomasin?”
Then Trask remembered the “justice for Thomasin” sign from that morning.
“Someone dressed in a default assassin avatar killed her last night and set her studio on fire,” Joe said. “It must have been right before they did the same thing at the newspaper.”
There were few good maps of Krim City. The ones sold to tourists by the main gate mostly covered the major commercial districts and neglected the residential areas, smaller side streets, and alleys. Or they were just fake. “For entertainment purposes only.” Grid employees would have maps. No, their interfaces would let them navigate Krim without needing maps at all.
Trask felt a moment of resentment for the staffers before he remembered that there were plenty of grids out there that had full digital interfaces for all their users, and the main reason he liked Krim was that it didn’t have one.
On Krim, he could close his eyes and be alone inside his head. No message bells, no weather updates, no media alerts, no calendar reminders. If he wanted to check the status of his investment portfolio, he’d need to make his way back to the gate and leave Krim.
He closed his eyes, but instead of finding a moment of peace, he saw Thomasin’s face. She was so happy when he told her the griefer was dead. He shouldn’t have said anything. Maybe she’d have been on alert or stayed with a friend. Did she even lock her door last night?
His self-recriminations were interrupted by a piercing whistle, and his eyes snapped open.
“There’s somebody behind us, boss,” Joe said.
Matilda was already looking out the carriage window. “The Baron sent some people after us.”
Trask put a protective arm around the ham, then asked Joe, “Why are you slowing down?”
“Because they’re on a horseback and are going twice as fast as we are,” Matilda explained. “Let me handle this.”
“Don’t let them take the ham,” said Trask.
“I don’t think it’s about the ham.” The carriage came to a stop, and she jumped out.
Trask felt a little foolish. But also — it could have been about the ham. He leaned out of the open door to see what was going on.
There were five soldiers on horseback, all armed, all looking extremely determined and professional. Joe could probably take one, he thought. Maybe. The Baron’s fighters were good. He hired the top people, made sure they got lots of practice, and the Baron also paid top-dollar to get them the best training available.
“We need to search your carriage,” said one of the soldiers in a commanding tone of voice. “Everyone needs to step outside. Then you’ll need to come back with us.”
“Wh…” Trask’s voice broke. He coughed to clear his throat and tried again. “Why?”
“A prisoner escaped, and the Baron has some questions for you.”
Trask started to get out, but Matilda held up her ar,m and he stopped, one leg outside the carriage.
“No,” she told the soldiers.
“Um, we’re on chamber business,” Trask said. “The Baron will understand.”
“No, he won’t,” the soldier said.
“Then I suggest that you put on a good show for him,” she said, smiling.
The soldiers looked at each one, and one of them, with slightly cleaner clothes than the others, swung down from his horse.
“At least make it quick,” said the lead soldier, one of the ones still mounted. He was big and had a shaved head. Trask knew him, but couldn’t quite think of the name. There were thousands in the Baron’s army. He couldn’t be expected to know them all.
“I will,” said the one who dismounted and pulled out a very shiny sword.
“I wasn’t talking to you, Dan,” said his commander.
Matilda nodded, and, with a quick step, came face to face with the dismounted man before he had time to bring his weapon to bear. He gurgled softly. Trask didn’t even see her pull out her knife. Then she stepped back, sliding her blade out from under the man’s ribcage and he collapsed to the ground.
One of the other soldiers rode around to the other side of the carriage and looked down through the left-hand window.
“There’s nobody else in there,” she called back.
Matilda checked that Dan was dead, wiped her knife on his shirt, and straightened back up.
Trask remembered him now. Thuridan Venxisys. Dan for short. He was never the smartest person in the crowd. He should have known better than to face Matilda head-on. Or from the side or the back, for that matter.
“Are we done here?” Matilda asked.
“You sure you don’t want to join us up north? It’s going to be fun, and we’re low on people,” said the commander. Clinio, Trask remembered. Clinio Lind.
“No, I’m looking for someone, and I don’t think he’d want to be that far from a gate,” said Matilda.
“Maybe when you find him,” said Clinio.
“Sure. Why not?”
Trask felt a moment of relief when they got on the way again, but then started wondering if the Baron was going to be satisfied when Clinio returned without them.
He looked laboriously twisted around in his seat so he could see out back. Clinio and the other soldiers were standing around the dead man’s body, trying to figure out what to do with him. Then Clinio must have felt Trask’s gaze because he glanced up and seemed to be looking straight at him. Trask felt a chill and scrunched back down in his seat. Did the fighter change his mind and decide to go after them? Or would the Baron just send more people?
It was almost enough to make him lose his appetite, Trask thought, and unwrapped the ham.