The Unseen Hand

Ch 20: Redmane

Mir'kadi, Tenth of Sund'im, 445 A'A'diel

Dedicated to @nannerlie 

"I heard they put you out to pasture, you stubborn old goat."

"They tried, but I found a way out of the corral." Deneven smiled and embraced the robust Seh'nahiel. For the first time since he had undertaken the commission to investigate the Vise's murder, Deneven felt optimism bloom in his chest. Redmane was eccentric, even by Seh'nahiel standards, but there were few better rangers than the Bel' Vandrari, fewer still who owed him a favor.

"Your soldier says you wish to call in your markers." Redmane considered the circular fountain in Ca'd'Cel's cloistered garden. In the center of the marble waterworks stood the Lady of Storms, a demigoddess venerated in Thromm. Sculpted in the form of an angry, wild-haired woman, the statue cast sprays of water from her outstretched hands. "He proclaimed your desire was urgent." Redmane winked at Eskander. "Since this is the Vise's home and he is recently deceased, I presume you require my tracking skills."

The justiciar nodded. "Had you been as astute when I drew that straight, you wouldn't now be in my debt."

Redmane smiled. "That was a memorable wager! Next time will see a different victor."

Deneven raised his graying eyebrows. "You will need a great deal more practice to forge that boast into truth. Age and experience provide advantages over the enthusiasm of youth. In the meantime, I am more than pleased to continue collecting your markers."

"Some markers are easier to repay than others." Redmane adjusted the bow slung on his shoulder. "If sniffing about is all that's required to settle my account, I will honor your request and consider myself lucky."

"Indeed." Deneven's amusement faded. "Eskander, if you please, I require a moment with my friend."

The cavalryman's eyes flicked to the ranger before he saluted and strode to the front entrance of the villa. Deneven eased himself onto a marble bench that faced the fountain and laid his cane across his lap.

Redmane unslung his bow and leaned it against the bench before sitting next to his friend. He studied diamond-like droplets that arced from the statue's hands while he waited for Deneven to speak.

The justiciar lowered his voice, "What do you know of this matter?"

Redmane relaxed, his grass-green eyes drawn to the scintillating cascade. "Only what everyone else knows. The night before last, a thief broke into the Vise's home, killed him, and kidnapped his daughter. If the wanted placards are to be believed, he is a decent looking curskin. A man named Jarle Jadien goes by the street name of Jars. The reward is substantial."

"But not significant enough for you to take on the hunt yourself?"

Redmane turned his gaze to Deneven. "Since when do I care about money?"

Deneven smiled. "True enough."

"Don't get me wrong; I did think about getting involved. Avaren's a rare beauty. I saw her once—from afar. But even from a distance, she turned my head. Naturally, her predicament called to me."

Deneven's humor evaporated. "Naturally," he scoffed. "Your instinct for heroism has involved you in far graver matters. It may be the death of you yet."

Redmane smirked. "Wise counsel coming from the Dragon of Reyza."

"You haven't answered the question. Why are you not hunting for her?"

"Bad timing, my friend, nothing more and nothing less. I must depart Reyza by dawn tomorrow if I'm to reach the Alderwylde in time for the Festival of Moons." Redmane's fingers brushed stray locks of long auburn hair behind a long-pointed ear. "There is no event more sacred for us Bel'Vandrari."