NEVER SPLIT THE PARTY: The Adventures of the Creeping Bam (BOOK 1: The Job)

CHAPTER FIVE: GAEL

It looks like it's going to be another cold morning, but another clear one too. The sun's still not yet really approaching as we make our way back down that same oversized alleyway that we had to fight our way into just a day ago, the blue of the sky growing lighter but there's still no shadows yet but what torchlight picks out. I'm sharp on guard like Kesla as we approach, I can feel her tension even though you'd never be able to tell looking at her – she seemed incredibly relaxed when she joined us at our regular table in the Broken Back Inn for a very early breakfast indeed. Old Turrel, the perpetually grumpy landlord, looked as baleful as ever as he served up a nonetheless very well-cooked spread, but I've known him long enough now that I think I can tell he really didn't mind, he just understood. He was a mercenary himself once, he understands the rigours of the profession. We might have been checking out for an indeterminate time, but apparently this is just the latest of many times, he's used to the comings and goings of the Creeping Bam by now.

Art gave her a particularly sly look when she came in but she just gave him a gentle clip round the ear and he laughed. I'm still not sure what he was even going on about back there, but the powerful good humour she was in when we reunited has eroded on our journey back to the Order's warehouse. She's gripping her sword tight at her side, right hand constantly flexing like she's itching to draw it. I know just what it is that's bothering her now, of course. It's the same thing that's bothering all of us – Min the Reckless is out there somewhere, waiting, and her people could be anywhere. They could be shadowing us right now and we probably wouldn't know it, although I think Yeslee would probably have timely warning for us if needed.

Even so, we arrive at the those big doors unmolested, and after Kesla pounds on them a little they're opened with surprising promptness, just swinging inwards with no-one touching them. The ogre's waiting just beyond their arcs, looking us all over with their stony, beady gaze, then they grunt mightily and step back to the side, gesturing for us to proceed with the gradual ease of a crawling glacier.

As we do as we're bid Wenrich emerges from the shadows in the back, clapping his hands together and rubbing them briskly, already smiling. "Good morning, my good fellows. So prompt, once again I'm impressed. I trust you're all ready to leave?"

"We did all our prep last night or first thing this morning." Kesla hefts the heavy duffle bag she's had slung over her shoulder all the way from the Broken Back, letting it hang from her hand at the side now with the barest shift in stance as she takes what seems to be a substantial weight. I'm still wondering what's in there. "We went over it all after we left, and merrymaking was kept to a minimum cuz we knew it was gonna be a heavy start."

She gives Art another pointed look when she says that and he completely ignores it. He's surprisingly bright-eyed and literally bushy-tailed this morning – usually during our off-time he cuts loose and pulls all-nighters, happy to entertain himself and others with all the companionable relaxation he can get. I would have expected resentment this morning but he's been in a very chipper mood all the way.

"Good, good." Wenrich continues to beam away as he looks us all over, clearly making calculations as he's going. I realise now that he's dressed differently from yesterday – he's kept that somewhat battered travelling coat but has largely discarded his distinctive robes of office now, his only remaining concession to our colours is a scarf of white and silver that's wrapped rakishly about his neck and allowed to hang down across his chest. Otherwise he's clearly dressed for the road, in britches and a heavy quilted jacket with tightly-strapped leather boots with their soles cut away. There's even a pair of woollen gloves peeking out of one of the pockets in his coat. "The sooner we can depart the better."

"We?" Kesla frowns. "You're coming with us?"

"Of course I am." The look he gives her is one I know well, and it permits no arguments. "I am fully responsible for the safeguarding of this mission, and so I intend to see it through to its completion."