Dromos 10, Imperial Year 1644
The Town of Oakhaven, Southern Mercia
The town of Oakhaven was known for its timber and its silence. But for the past three weeks, the silence had been broken by fear. Four people had been murdered – a merchant, a farmer, a tavern maid, and a traveling priest. Each victim had been stabbed in the back, their bodies left in alleys or fields. The town's guards had arrested a local outcast, a man named Ferris, who had a history of brawling. But the evidence was thin: Ferris had been seen near the first victim's shop, and he owned a knife.
Vladislav Eisenberg – Zero – stood in the shadow of the town's northern gate, his black cape blending with the dawn. Beside him, Hound and Sparrow waited, their breaths misting in the cold air.
"Your mission," Vlad said, "is to investigate the murders. Determine if Ferris is guilty. If not, find the real killer. You have three days."
"And if the real killer is a threat?" Hound asked.
"You are authorized to use lethal force if the situation calls for it. But you will gather evidence first. You will not act on suspicion alone."
Sparrow adjusted her bow. "What will you be doing?"
"Watching." Vlad stepped back into the shadows. "Do not fail."
He vanished.
Hound looked at Sparrow. "He enjoys that."
"The vanishing? Yes." Sparrow pulled her hood up. "Let us find an inn."
The Rusty Horseshoe was the same inn where the class had once heard rumors of the Raven. But today, it was nearly empty. Hound and Sparrow sat at a corner table, nursing ales and listening.
"The guard captain is named Harrick," Sparrow said, consulting a small notebook. "He arrested Ferris three days ago. The town council is pressuring him for a quick trial."
"Quick trial means execution," Hound said. "Innocent or not."
"We need to see the crime scenes."
They started with the merchant's shop. The merchant, a clothier named Garen, had been found behind his counter, stabbed once in the back. The door had been unlocked; nothing was stolen.
Hound examined the lock. "No sign of forced entry. The killer walked in like a customer."
"Or the merchant knew him," Sparrow said. She knelt by the bloodstain on the floor. "The angle of the wound – upward, from a shorter attacker. Ferris is tall."
"So the real killer is shorter. Or the merchant was kneeling."
They moved to the tavern maid's alley. The body had been removed, but the bloodstain remained. Sparrow measured the distance from the wall.
"The killer surprised her from behind. No struggle. She knew him, or she trusted him."
"Or he was fast," Hound said. "Very fast."
They interviewed witnesses – a baker who saw nothing, a farmer who heard a scream, a child who claimed to have seen a "shadow man." Nothing solid.
On the second day, they visited Ferris in the town's small jail.
Ferris was a thin man with hollow eyes and trembling hands. He protested his innocence, but his story was inconsistent. He had been drunk on the night of the first murder. He could not remember where he was.
"You are not helping yourself," Hound said.
"I know," Ferris whispered. "But I did not kill anyone. I am a drunk, not a murderer."
Sparrow studied him. His fear seemed genuine. His hands were soft – not the hands of someone who could drive a knife deep into a man's back.
"We will look into it," she said.
Dromos 12, Imperial Year 1644
The Forest Outside Oakhaven
The breakthrough came from a detail Sparrow had noticed: all four victims had been wearing a small silver charm – a crescent moon. It was a common symbol in Oakhaven, but the consistency was striking.
"The killer is targeting people with a specific affiliation," she said. "A cult? A guild?"
Hound recalled that the traveling priest had worn a crescent moon pendant as well. He had been from a small temple on the outskirts of town.
They visited the temple. It was abandoned, the priest's quarters ransacked. But in a hidden drawer, Hound found a ledger – names, dates, and payments. The priest had been running a protection racket, extorting money from local merchants. The other victims were also listed.
"The killer is a vigilante," Hound said. "Someone who was wronged by these people."
They cross‑referenced the ledger with the town's records. One name appeared repeatedly as a victim of extortion: a woodcutter named Orin. He had lost his business, his home, and his wife to illness – all while paying the priest's fees.
Orin was a short man, strong, with calloused hands. He lived alone in a cabin in the woods.
Dromos 13, Imperial Year 1644
Orin's Cabin – Dusk
Hound and Sparrow approached the cabin from opposite sides. The door was closed, but smoke rose from the chimney. Sparrow climbed a tree, bow ready. Hound knocked.
"Orin. Open up. We only want to talk."
No answer.
Hound tried the door. It was unlocked. He stepped inside.
The cabin was dark, lit only by the hearth. Orin sat in a chair, a knife in his hand. He was not moving.
"Orin?"
The man looked up. His eyes were red, his face gaunt. "You are not guards."
"No. We are investigators. We know about the priest. About the extortion."
"They destroyed my life," Orin said. His voice was flat. "I only wanted what was fair."
"So you killed them."
"They deserved it."
Sparrow's voice came from the window. "Deserving death is not the same as delivering it. You are not a judge."
Orin stood. The knife gleamed. "Then who is?"
He lunged at Hound.
Hound sidestepped, his footwork precise – no planting, no hesitation. He caught Orin's wrist, twisted, and disarmed him in one motion. The knife clattered to the floor. Orin stumbled, and Hound pinned him against the wall.
"It is over," Hound said.
Sparrow dropped from the tree, entered the cabin, and bound Orin's hands with rope. She was calm, efficient.
"You will face a real judge," she said. "And you will tell them everything."
Orin sagged. "I am not sorry."
"That is not for us to decide," Hound said.
Dromos 14, Imperial Year 1644
The Town of Oakhaven – Dawn
They delivered Orin to the guard captain, along with the ledger and a detailed report. Ferris was released. The town council was shamed into holding a proper trial.
Hound and Sparrow walked to the northern gate, where Vlad waited in the shadows.
"The real killer was a vigilante," Hound said. "He confessed."
"You did not kill him."
"No. The tenets say violence is not the answer unless necessary. He was unarmed after disarming."
Vlad nodded. "You showed restraint. That is harder than killing."
Sparrow added, "We have evidence. Witnesses. The ledger. The case is solid."
"Good." Vlad turned to walk. "Follow."
They fell in behind him.
"You were watching," Hound said.
"I was."
"Did we pass?"
Vlad did not look back. "You are learning."
Sparrow smiled. "That is not a no."
"It is not a yes, either." Vlad's voice was dry. "But you are alive. The innocent is free. The guilty will face justice. That is success."
They walked into the forest, the morning sun at their backs.
End of Chapter Twenty-Seven