Kelren spent most of the day trying to contain his impatience. Since the day before, he had been eagerly awaiting this afternoon’s meeting. Would the rebels of Tav Rock know Ghomal’s son, Anero? Would Anero be there, at the meeting? Kelren could only hope. Then they could put this dangerous city behind them and return to Eastpoint.
Once the sun had passed its zenith, Kelren took Ghomal and two of the senior mercenaries—Harek and Moross—and hurried off from the inns to the arranged meeting. The pieces had fallen into place by happenstance. Moross and Othis had gotten into a scuffle with a pair of pub patrons who were stiflingly loyal to War-lady Zanaria—later, the rebels had contacted them and had asked to meet with their leaders. After all, another party of capable warriors that opposed Zanaria would make for useful allies.
Of course, Kelren had made a secret agreement with Zanaria to betray the rebels, once they served their usefulness.
The rebels met with them in a back-alley far from any of the city gates or guarded checkpoints. The alley had multiple exits, in case Zanaria’s men descended on their furtive meeting, or the two parties came to violence against one another. Their contacts were two men dressed in plain clothes, but they had three armed defenders along, too.
Kelren and Ghomal drew as close as seemed wise to the two in citizen’s outfits, while the various mercenaries eyed each other across the imaginary line in the sand.
“Who are you folk?” asked one of the rebels, a man with a bead in his greying beard. “What brings you to Tav Rock?”
“As you can see, we’re not locals,” Kelren offered. “We’re here to support an ally who is embroiled in all this.”
The rebels eyed one another. “That’s vague, but I can hardly blame you,” the bearded man said. He crossed his arms and nodded toward Moross. “The mercenaries we spoke to before said that you were looking for us. How come?”
“We’re looking for Anero, one of the late Baron’s advisors,” Kelren revealed.
“We know what became of him, but we need something to recompense the risk of even being seen with you,” replied the other rebel. This man was younger and had trimmed his jaw up to his darker sideburns. Matter-of-factly, he asked, “You’re not even from the Great Isle, are you?”
Kelren shook his head. “We are not. We are under the employ of Anero’s family.” He gave a nod to Ghomal, who waited keenly. “Tell us if Anero yet lives—for if he does not, our business need not continue.”
“Last we heard, he did,” the bearded one said. Ghomal’s eyes lit up, but Kelren turned back to the citizens as the man continued: “If you’re not from the Isle, you probably have better news than us. Is help on the way? How much of the Great Isle has fallen?”
“It’s not good.” Kelren rolled his shoulders in their sockets, eager to be away from here—with the answers they sought. “Only Bellasa stands, though that could have changed since I last heard it. The city is under heavy siege—and even Starath has fallen to a similar one. Radregar braces for war.”
With ashen expressions, the rebels regarded one another. Even their guards seemed phased by the poor tidings. The older man stroked his greying beard in a moment of consternation. Then he turned to his comrades and said, “Doesn’t change anything for us does it? We’re still going to fight for our home.”
“We can offer strategic information and other options,” Kelren told them. “But we expect the answers we seek as payment.”
The bearded citizen turned back to the Company men. “We appreciate anything you can give us,” he assured Kelren. “The man you seek fled with a few others when the Baron was killed. They sought shelter in some of the fishing villages, north a few days along the coast.”
Kelren suppressed a grimace. There wasn’t time to search the countryside, but at least there was a direction…. “I’ll offer you a choice of two options. I can send you—safely—across to Radregar, where you can join with those fighting Tarro and his armies. You’d have a better shot at retaking your home when all this is over,” Kelren suggested. “Or…the risky option—I can give you information on a weakness in Zanaria’s defences. It’s an easy option, all things considered, but I suspect that you will draw her attention more than you have so far.”
The rebels shared an excited smile. “We’d need to discuss this with the others,” they said. “You’ll wait for us?”
Kelren sighed. “A day or two at most,” he said.
The tentative allies backed away down the alleys, and then Kelren was following his mercenaries back through the streets of Tav Rock toward their inn. Tav Rock’s inhabitants were largely of Orrene descent—their fair skin and hair often set them apart from those who had emigrated from Radregar, including many of the East Storm Company.
“What do you think? We have just over a week before we need to be trekking for the rendezvous with the Boundless Star,” Ghomal reminded him. “But you know the terms of the contract. We’ll go north, right?”
Kelren nodded at the mention of their terms. The Eastpoint Councillor had offered a sizeable bonus if his son was alive and successfully extracted. He mulled the timeline quietly: two days for the rebels and two days from here to the rendezvous did not leave much time for scouring fishing towns. But he was not the sort to leave because it was simpler—he’d rather see a job properly completed.
He turned back to Ghomal. “I’ll send a few of the mercenaries to the rendezvous, just in case. They can delay the departure a day or two, if we’re late.”
Ghomal grinned eagerly. “Thank you, mage. I know we’ll find him—I can feel it.”
Kelren hoped the Councillor was right—just as he hoped the rebels would choose departure over remaining here. If they didn’t…well, Kelren would have to make good on his deal with Zanaria and reveal the phony weakness he would tell them to target.