Night Study (Soulfinders, #2)(63)
Thanking Hedda for the information, Valek reminisced with her for a while before he left. “Keep your low profile, and when your young idiot is ready, have him request a transfer to the Commander’s company.”
She smiled. “His name is Gannon.”
No surprise he was the one Colonel Ransley mentioned as showing promise.
As Valek hiked back to the garrison, he mulled over all he’d learned from Hedda. He concentrated on the Storm Thieves, putting himself in their place. Bored and physically able to climb ropes and rigging on heaving seas, the young fishermen would have no trouble scaling a wall. They’d also been on boats most of their lives, knew the currents and tides and could spot all the warning signs of approaching foul weather. Valek had no problem believing they were the thieves; however, the fact that his corps hadn’t been able to catch them or discover their hideout didn’t fit. Magic could explain it. Or an older leader. Or both.
When he returned to the garrison, he checked on Onyx. The black horse’s coat gleamed and his tail and mane had been combed. Onyx snuffled Valek’s empty hand, searching for a treat. Valek laughed when Onyx’s ears dropped in obvious disappointment. He fed the horse a carrot before swinging by the canteen in time for supper.
The loud rumble of voices dwindled and then ceased by the time he’d grabbed a bowl of clam stew, a hunk of bread and a wedge of cheese. He scanned the tables of soldiers. Predominantly male, most of them averted their gazes. However, in the back right corner, a table full of female soldiers ate. Much to their terrified surprise, he joined them. The first thing he noticed was they were all low-ranking, and not a commissioned officer among them.
Once they recovered from their shock and overcame their fear of him, they answered his questions about the garrison’s male-dominated leaders.
“Is it true that half of the Commander’s personal guard are female?” asked a woman who introduced herself as Sergeant First Class Jaga.
“Yes. And half of his advisers. In fact, the Commander would be upset with the ratio at this garrison. What happened to all your colleagues?”
“Transferred. We stayed because we have family nearby,” Jaga said.
“Any inappropriate behavior, Sergeant?”
“No, sir.”
She didn’t hesitate or exchange glances with her colleagues, which meant she told the truth. Good. He asked her about the higher-ranking officers.
“They’ve been here for ages, sir. All promoted from within.”
“I see.” The garrison was way overdue for an inspection. It was partly his fault for avoiding the area all these years. “I think it’s soon time for an update and some fresh blood.”
They smiled.
“It won’t be until after the hot season.” And only if the Commander didn’t declare war on Sitia.
“It will be worth the wait, sir,” Jaga said.
Valek finished eating and returned to his rooms. A pile of MD-1 uniforms waited for him on the small table. He checked for intruders before collapsing on the bed.
The next morning, Valek changed into a basic laborer’s uniform. The black pants had a row of white diamonds down the outside of each leg. A row of white diamonds cut across the chest of the black tunic. Throughout Ixia, laborers were men and women who filled in where extra people were needed for a project or job. They had a variety of skills from construction to harvesting crops, and they frequently traveled from one city to another. In other words, the perfect cover for Valek.
He transferred a few things he’d need into a well-worn rucksack, tied his hair back with an old piece of string and altered his appearance just enough to throw a casual observer off. Most Ixians only knew his name and wouldn’t recognize him. When he exited the garrison, he stopped and rubbed dirt over the white diamonds on his clothes. Satisfied that he looked the part, Valek headed southwest to Gandrel, where the most recent and boldest burglary had occurred.
Six hours later he arrived in town. He reported to the local checkpoint and showed them his papers.
“Reason for visit?” the man asked in a bored voice.
“Repairing fishing nets for the fleet,” Valek answered. Once the cold season ended, the fishermen spent the warming season readying their boats.
The man grunted, stamped Valek’s paper and handed it back all without once glancing at Valek. If the rest of the security personnel matched this man’s attitude, then no wonder the Storm Thieves had no trouble stealing their weapons. Pathetic.
Valek visited the Sail Away Inn next. The innkeeper rented him a room, but the few other workers ignored him. Extra laborers usually arrived at the coast at this time of year. Since supper was a couple hours away, the common and dining room were empty. He waited in his room. It didn’t take long for a servant to knock. She carried towels and a bath kit for him.
Opening the door wide, Valek stepped aside, letting in Agent Annika, who explained about the amenities of the inn until the door closed.
“Where?” Valek asked.
“Four-fifteen Cannery Road, second floor, sir. There’s an entrance in the back, through the alley. Endre’s there now. His shift doesn’t start until later.”
“Thank you.”
She nodded and left. He followed soon after. Every town in Ixia had at least one inn and a security office—the two best places to gather information. Valek had an agent in both. Larger cities warranted more agents. And the agents shared a safe house or apartment as a base for their covert operations.