Gathering the Stand

Sorry about no post last week. It was my Dad's birthday and we celebrated by spending the day in Yellowstone. But on with the story!
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Martin laughed and shook the commander’s offered hand. “I’m worried for the day when you’ll get tired of rescuing me.”

“Unlikely for that to happen,” Gillian snorted. He nodded to the shivering nobleman. “Lord Cantry was just telling me how he got here. What’s your story?”

“Nothing much,” he admitted, watching as the rest of the guards made it down the steep steps, Glen and Tyler among them. The last of the soldiers pulled the trap door down and locked it. “My roommates decided to enjoy the evening rain when the attack came. Glen told me you had a barrier against the Seacats.”

The commander nodded his head weakly. “We did. I’m not sure how they were able to get past it though. But we’ll talk of this later. Right now, we need to get everyone away from here.”

“And go where?” Cantry snapped. “We’re on an island! Those monsters probably have us surrounded. There’s no place for us to hide!”

Gillian rolled his eyes, rubbing his temple. “I’m the commander of a prison full of thieves. Don’t you think I got information about our Stand’s underground tunnels in exchange for release? Besides, the Seacats haven’t taken the fort yet. If we can get all the citizens to the fort through these tunnels, we’ll have a chance to fight them from there. Captain!”

The soldier with captain stripes came to attention. “Yes, sir?”

“Take these men to the fort,” Gillian said. “Make sure they find some treatment for their wounded and that they get settled in.”

“Yes, sir!”

Glen and Tyler came up, both covered in scratches from their fight with the Seacats. “Sir,” Tyler said, saluting. “Permission to help evacuate the city.”

“No,” he said firmly. “Both of you need medical attention. Seacats have poison in their claws that make wounds fester. You’ll need to get treated.”

“I’ll help,” Martin volunteered, seeing the disappointment in his friends’ eyes. “I was rescued before I could join the fight.”

The commander eyed him. “Suit sent me a letter about why you’re here,” he suddenly said, lifting one corner of his mouth in a smile. “And about the list you made.” Martin groaned, covering his face with a hand. Suit was determined to see he did not do anything dangerous.

“However,” Gillian went on, “I also know you’re here to keep out of trouble, and I know you’ll get in more if I don’t keep an eye on you. I accept your help, Martin.” He turned to the captain and gave him more orders. After a quick goodbye to his friends, they were herded away by a group of soldiers.

Martin watched them go, wondering. Why had the Seacats been able to take the Stand? He remembered the spike of fear from the city when they had attacked. Warily, he opened himself to emotions again. Immediately he was taken by the fear. Gasping, he cut himself off again.

“Something the matter?” Gillian asked, frowning. “Did you actually get hurt?”

Martin shook his head. “Just thinking.” Gillian looked doubting, but said nothing. Waving to the remaining soldiers, he had them go for another trap door. Martin let out a quiet sigh. It was going to be a while before he used that power again.
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It was dawn when they finally returned to the prison fort. Unlike when he was rescued, very few of the citizens were cornered by Seacats. Most of them were hiding together in various cargo storehouses throughout the city. When Martin mentioned how lucky they were of finding the citizens together in warehouses that led down into the tunnels, Gillian chuckled.

“I had a few of my men round them up,” he explained. “I had prepared an evacuation plan in case of getting attacked.” Martin chuckled himself. Commander Gillian was always prepared for the worst.

The soldiers the commander had mentioned were the last they had gathered. They reported that everyone had been gathered. Dragging their feet, they were the last ones to make the trek up to the fort.

“This is a lot better way of getting to your prison,” Martin muttered to Gillian. “You should use it more often.”

The commander chuckled. “No, I don’t think so. The thieves use these tunnels. And beside, I know of a few people who keep on the right side of the law so they don’t have to go up the path.” They continued walking in silence before Gillian spoke again. “Don’t suppose you have any ideas why the Seacats are here? You must have heard something.”

Martin kept walking, narrowing his eyes. During the night, he kept thinking back to what he had heard. That is the beauty of a new alliance! Shivering, he recalled when the Seacats almost took them and their leader pointing at him. He’s the one the mages want.

“I think,” he said slowly, “that we aren’t just dealing with Seacats.”

“Care to explain?”

The commander waited expectantly for his answer. Martin briefly explained what the burnt orange Seacat had said and also what the leader had said, careful to leave out that the Seacat had been pointing at him at the time he had said it. Gillian processed the information, stroking his limp mustache.

“So,” he said slowly, “you think we’re dealing with mages?”

Martin nodded. “The magical barrier against the Seacats was broken. Who else could have destroyed it?”

“That’s true,” Gillian reluctantly agreed. “However, you said it was an alliance. I know what the Seacats get out of it. They get to raid the Stand. But what do these mages want? What’s their motive?” The commander shook his head, his shoulders slumping under the weight of worry. “I don’t think any mage would come all this way to get our Lord Cantry. Maybe they mistook him for someone else.”

The spy didn’t respond, not trusting himself. There was no mistake. The Seacat was pointing at him. Martin shivered again, the same questions plaguing him. What did they want with him? What did they know?

Martin was startled when they suddenly arrived at the prison fort. “This is defiantly a better way,” he muttered as they finally passed through the line of soldiers protecting the entrance. Commander Gillian had straitened his shoulders and started giving commands again. He waited for most of the soldiers to leave before again approaching the commander.

“What’s your plan?”

“Blunt as always,” Gillian smirked. He reached out and patted his arm. “First thing, you are going to get something to eat and then get some rest. It’s been a long night. After you’re refreshed, I’ll tell you what I come up with.”
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Martin followed the advice Gillian had given him. The fort was built by the same Aeternan engineer that had designed Fort Pinewood. However, the Stands’ Fort differed from Pinewood since only half the fort was built in the cliff side. Most of the prison cells were found embedded in the Cliffside. He avoided the guarded prisoners and went instead for the built section of the fort, where supply rooms, kitchens, laundries, courtyards, and practice yards were found.

He arrived to the main courtyard to find it in chaos. One glance at the scene of terrified Stand citizens trying to get organized, he decided it was too much of a hassle. With all the commotion, the spy knew he was unlikely to get any rest. Turning back, he found a relatively less active hall with only officers running down it, picked a pillar where it was unlikely anyone would step on him, sat down and pulled his coat’s hood down over his eyes.

It wasn’t the most comfortable place he could have slept, but when he woke up some hours later with a sore back, he wasn’t going to complain. It was better than having to fight for a bit of straw. He walked back to the main courtyard and found it in the same unorganized mess. Martin thought briefly to find a kitchen to find food, but dismissed the idea. They were probably also under the same chaos of sudden refugees.

This left him with one last option. Martin made his way to the commander’s office, sure that Gillian would have food there. He wasn’t surprised by the guards he met at the commander’s door.

“State your business,” a soldier demanded, blocking his way with his spear.

“Commander Gillian will want to see me,” Martin said tiredly. He had no time for games. “Ask him. My name is Martin.”

Looking dubious, the soldier knocked on the door. “Yes?” Gillian’s voice sounded through the wood.

“Someone named Martin says you want to see him.”

“Send him right in.”

Giving the soldiers a sympathetic smile to their confused looks, Martin opened the door and walked into the sun lit office. As he suspected, a larger table had been brought in and Gillian’s desk was pushed to the side. At the table sat several officers of the fort, Lord Cantry and a few of his attendants, then three people he did not recognize.

“Ah, Martin,” Gillian said, standing and walking over to him. He shook his hand. “Nice to see you up and about. Did you get something to eat?”

“I was hoping you’d have something here,” he admitted.

“It’ll be here in a few minutes,” Gillian chuckled. “Now, come sit. Let me introduce you to everyone. My second in command, Captain Duntsan. My assistant Corporal Benkly. The Arms Master Yates.” Each man nodded his head in acknowledgement. “Then we have Masters Paul Eck, Carl Sievers, and Chad South. They’re representing the general population.” The men held themselves proudly, Martin figured they were all well respected craftsmen. “And then you know Lord Cantry and his two assistants, Drew Cannon and Jordan Moyle.”

Lord Cantry snorted. “And who’s this whelp?”

Whelp? Martin wondered, frowning.

“This is Martin,” Gillian said, ignoring the insult. “We’re lucky he’s here. He’s one of the best spies I know.”

This caused the men at the table to sit up and regard him anew. Martin ignored the stares as he sat in the empty chair next to Gillian. It was always the same, people would discard him as unimportant, but when they would find out he was a spy, a very skilled spy, they would always stare at him, wondering how they could have ever dismissed him.

“What’s happening?” Martin asked, bringing everyone back to the matter at hand.

“We’ve mostly been discussing defense plans,” Gillian answered. “And we’re also planning on taking back the city. We’re just waiting for one more committee member.”

There was a knock on the door. “Sir,” the soldier said, “there’s another person claiming you’ll want to see him.”

“And there he is,” Gillian smirked. “Send him in.”

The man who walked in was someone Martin knew from one of his earlier missions. He was a fat man dressed in the current fashion of a sharp suit with a cane to match. His pudgy eyes scanned the room as only a thief could. His eyes narrowed as he focused on Martin.

“You’re a sly one, Gillian,” Willy said, sitting down at the only chair left. He tapped his cane on the table then pointed it at Martin. “You’re not afraid of using anyone. What’s the kid doing here?”

“He’s going to be getting the information we need,” the commander answered, his tone suddenly gone cold. “Now, I know you’re not happy working with us, and let me assure you that the feeling is mutual. However, if we’re to get our Stand back, we’re going to have to. So, while we’re working together, let’s also play nice.”

“Alright,” Willy sneered, rubbing the dark stone of his cane, “just so he plays nice as well.”

Martin sat back in his chair, his eyes not once leaving Willy’s. Gillian was very sly. Willy the Horrid was one of the top thieving lords of the city, his reputation held up his name sake. He was ruthless when it came to his position and he reminded Martin too much of the thieving gang leaders of Loman. The last time they crossed paths, Willy figured out he was a spy and vowed to make him pay. Painfully.

“Then let’s get down to business,” Gillian said shortly. As the debating began, the food arrived. Martin grabbed a roll and watched as the military, citizens, lord, and thief argued about the best way to reclaim the city. As expected, the military worried about the strategy, the citizens argued for the safety of their homes, Cantry kept bringing up expenses, and the thief. Well, he thought, casually glancing at the fat thief, he always is looking out for what’s best for him.

No one asked for his opinion though, which annoyed him a bit. He was going to be risking his neck for questions they needed to have answered before they could implement any of their plans.

“You said it was mages we’re fighting,” Paul Eck pointed out. “How can we go about fighting them? I mean, Seacats are plague enough, what can we do to fight magic?”

“That is a problem,” Gillian reluctantly replied. “We don’t know how to attack them if we don’t know what it’s they’re after.” He turned to Martin. “Do you suppose you could figure out why they’re here?”

Martin half smiled. “I was wondering when you were going to ask.”
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The players have been gathered and some of them aren't going to play nice. How's it going to turn out? Well, haven't written that yet. Enjoy!