Once again, the door swung open and the two men stepped through. Their arrival was met by surprised faces laced with relief at the sight of the newly agreeable Richard’s unbound appearance. Boozehound had partially risen from his seat in anticipation of being called through, his right hand held his bag a couple of inches off the floor. With an appreciative nod he set the bag back down again and quietly pushed it beneath his seat. Alter exchanged ‘bloody hell I didn’t think that would work’ glances with each man before stepping around the table to face the new arrival. Richard moved forward tentatively, eyes flitting in all directions as if expecting this to all be some elaborate trap. Having confirmed that no heavily-armed men were hiding behind the door, he too stood over the table and slowly scanned the assorted maps the squad had gathered.

  “Well, then.” He began slowly. “Where do you want me to begin?”

  “Let’s start locally and work our way outward. Tell me what you know about your boss’ assets in the duke’s estate, who works for him, what they’re looking out for, and how they communicate with exterior forces in secret.”

  “That’s not really an operation I was really involved with, but I do know a little.” Richard admitted as one hand subconsciously scratched at the back of his neck. “From what I understand, the method they use is books. Apparently’ the old duke’s personal library is being refreshed section by section at a binder on the other side of the city. Messages are slipped out with the old books, and fresh orders are hidden in the newly repaired books coming back in. As for who is on the payroll, I have no real clue. The librarian perhaps?”

  “That’s good intel, and easy to confirm.” Alter smiled, glancing over to Whim who was busy scribbling away with pencil and paper, after the man had given him a quick thumbs up, he continued. “Let’s keep following this chain, how do orders and other messages enter and leave the city itself?”

  Richard shrugged and shook his head slightly. “Any number of ways. In my case, I would be approached by a contact in the immigrant camp who’d just tell me my orders there and then, nothing written was ever provided. Anything bigger, like those boxes of swords you kept hunting for, gets smuggled in during the shifts where the guards that are caught in Sir Betrand’s web are busy looking the other way. Although, my group would sometimes bring goods out of the city using the charity carts, wrapped up in blankets and the like.”

  “There’s not much we can do with that.” Riptide admitted before a thought struck him. “What can you tell us about this contact in the camp? Was it always the same person? Was there anything about them that stood out?”

  Richard seemed a little taken aback by the suddenness of the grilling but recovered quickly. “I think I spoke to perhaps four different people, some of them more than others. Three of them were usually wearing farm labourer’s clothes, and often had the smell of animals on them. So that’s a clue, but there are plenty of farms around Jestriff so I don’t know how useful it really is.”

  “That’s still worth following up on.” Alter furrowed his brow as he examined a map of the surrounding countryside, its rough contours regularly dotted with small symbols that represented agriculture. “Is there any way you could narrow it down further?”

  “Well, the animals were probably big ones, but they never smelled like a stable so not horses.” Richard squinted at the ceiling as he wracked his brain for any more crumbs of information.

  “Okay, we’re straying towards the realm of pure conjecture with this line of questioning.” Boozehound warned. “We should get back to more solid ground.”

  “Hmm, you’re right.” Alter conceded. “Let’s go back in time a little. When we raided the Last Flourish, you were not there, correct?”

  Richard nodded. “I’d had a drink to celebrate getting the weapons through, but I left early. I wanted to spend some time with Anise before the job continued.”

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  “A job that I’m guessing we prevented from ever starting, or at least forced a change of plans for. But I’m getting away from the point, are you aware of any further dealings with the Known House?” Alter asked.

  Again, Richard shook his head. “I don’t think so, no. Once the news reached us about what happened, the different groups were ordered to keep far apart from each other. That’s when we started putting the new base together, which you know all about.”

  “How many different groups are currently active within Jestriff?”

  “Not including mine? Two, that I know of. My group was responsible for keeping the immigrants riled up. The second group keeps tabs on the estate and other centres of power, and the third makes sure the regular citizens are kept grumbling and unsupportive. I don’t know where they’re based, but the book-binders should give you a clue as to the movements of the second group.”

  “That sounds like something the Silver Wolves would enjoy sinking their teeth into.” Whim commented.

  “It does indeed.” Agreed Alter, making a mental note to recommend their assignment to this lead, along with someone to keep an eye on them. “Let’s talk a little more about you, Mr Fieldwatch. The question I keep finding myself pondering is how did you manage to get yourself so deep into this situation?”

  Richard barked out a short laugh before hurriedly smothering his mirth. “You know, I found myself asking the same question at every waking moment since I was captured. I think my best answer to that is ‘gradually’. This scheme has been in the works far longer than perhaps you realise.” There was a faint smile on his face, the kind you would see your child give after being given a light scolded for something they almost got away with.

  “Alright, how did all this begin?” Alter continued, ignoring the smirk.

  “I lived in a small coastal town in Cereloss, Lord Bertrand’s territory. One day, just over six years ago, a rough storm hit, and nearly destroyed half the place. The lord himself came soon after and personally led the restoration effort. A lot of folks were deeply indebted to him after that, myself included.” Richard paused for a moment, the fog of memory temporarily interrupting the flow of his speech. “Still though, the industry of the town was in tatters, so I left looking for more stable work and wound up here. Sometime later there’s a knock on the door, standing at the threshold is a man representing Lord Bertrand. He says he’s looking for men in Jestriff who would be willing to help him with some local business. I had a powerful respect for the man, and I still do despite what might happen, so I accepted.”

  “What sort of business was this?” Riptide enquired.

  “Nothing illegal, I assure you. He wanted his own transport company to help bring rarer resources from the Grenveine heartlands to the coastal ports without having to lose half the profits to the local guilds. I’m a cartwright by trade, so I signed up. I started in construction, then transportation. Suddenly, a couple of years ago, things started getting a little more serious. We began moving more dubious cargo, started muscling in on other trade groups, the works. I suppose I didn’t realise how deep the water I was swimming in was getting, not until it was far too late to head back to shore.”

  “You didn’t perhaps stop and think when you were ordered to help instigate riots in a squalid immigrant camp created purely because your boss fabricated a fake national recruitment drive? None of that set off any alarms in your head?” Riptide asked incredulously.

  Richard was silent for a long moment, his jaw working invisibly. His eyes were glued to the table as his fingers flexed and tightened into fists. His words, half bellowed, half hissed, came out with piercing pronunciation. “I didn’t have a choice.”

  “There is always a choice.” Was the lieutenant's growled response.

  “Enough.” Alter ordered. “I think you’ve given us enough to go for an initial interview, Mr Fieldwatch. We’ll call it there for now. Seven, go grab one of the regulars, we’re done here.” He ordered, with Whim being quick to squirrel his notes away and leave the room.

  “What will happen to me in the meantime?” Richard asked testily, his body still tense.

  “I’ll make sure you’re treated properly, you have my word.” Alter promised. “I’m sure we’ll be back to ask more questions soon enough.”

  A moment later, Whim reappeared accompanied by a pair of guards. Alter gave them clear instructions that Richard was being cooperative and was to be treated with respect before they took him away. The papers were gathered, the maps furled up, and the men set off back towards Osprey Hall. They had a report to write.