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

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE: SHAYLINE

We've used the fortress of Heldereth a few times now, so I'm familiar enough with it that I can find my way round without help. Before the Occupation it was an outpost for the Rundao army, and when the invasion came it became something of a thorn in the Tektehrans' side in the first year. The garrison had no more orders from their former masters in Tabaphic by that point, so they saw it as their duty to harass the new occupation as best they could, and for a few months they played merry mischief as they cut supply lines and harassed convoys. When the Terrors finally decided to take care of this little problem once and for all it was another four months before the siege finally broke them, and the remaining fighters inside went down hard, making their killers earn every drop of blood with their own.

Why the Terrors didn't garrison it themselves was always something of a mystery to me, but they left it empty, a place of bitter ghosts that's always made me a little uncomfortable. The defences were still strong, all it really took to make it serviceable again was replacing some broken gates, and ever since we've maintained a skeleton crew of our own here to dissuade other opportunists from trying to capitalise on its position since. So far the Terrors haven't come calling, so we've put it to good use ourselves instead.

Even so, it took a few hours make it ready to house our entire company. Roe, Tarrow, Garnon and I went ahead along with our prisoner to set the ball rolling, and we still had to pitch in with the half dozen bodies currently serving their tour here in order to turn the barracks out, light the bonfires and ready the stores. By the time that hard-won cargo and the rest of our prize arrived on ogre-back with a twenty-strong horseback escort, we were still scrabbling to put the finishing touches to the work. I barely made it back down to the courtyard in time to greet my mother. And Ashsong and his ... friend.

Likely they didn't have a much better time of it, though. Given the now far more isolated condition of the Gap, the quickest way to get the cargo out without using teleportation was for someone to prep the hoist and pulley that most of the larger commercial transport convoys that use the crossing would usually employ. Given that Norric's boys killed the regular crew along with the guards before we laid our trap, and none among us is particularly qualified to operate it, it must've taken some working out for whoever was left behind. That said, it must've been done in record time because they wasted no time in making their way here after. I suspect the threat of further retaliation, slight as it might be, put a spur in them.

Needless to say, once the remainder of our crew were ensconced it was a mess of a business getting settled in. Those who needed care – and it was quite a few – were taken to the infirmary for what healing was available, while those still largely unharmed went to the mess hall with cutting loose in mind, clearly needing to unwind after the battle and somewhat overdue victory. Myself, I found it hard to stick around for much merriment, my mood was turbulent before we arrived and has gotten steadily worse since. Once I got a chance to compare notes with Tarrow, with Roe and Garnon in tow, he told us what he'd overheard his captors discussing on the road, and the fresh revelations he's had about our illustrious employer. What I heard has been worrying me a lot since, darkening my own thoughts considerably since as I've tried to make sense of it all in my head. I took the first opportunity I could to slip away from mixed company, heading for the battlements and the peace of my own watch.

This is where Roe finds me, perched in one of the crenels with a leg up so I can rest my chin on my knee as I stare into the darkness of the valley below. I catch his approach before he gets close, he's making no effort to sneak, but my senses are sharp all the same so I like to think I'd still pick him up. Even so, he says nothing when he finds me, simply leans against the stonework beside me, looking past me into the night, and through the corner of my eye I note how unreadable his expression is. Which says something to me all the same.