Maji Born

28 - A Murmur of Strife

Carsire had been correct in suspecting that no one would notice the disappearance of the two children he had released. He could not sit back and watch young children hang. They weren't even large enough to offset the mechanics.

The gallows master would pull at their feet in order to break their necks. It was a disgusting practice. One, these children had not earned. They had been born and that was their sin.

Over the next few days, he continued to release one to two of the young prisoners from their cells. Carsire felt that he no longer had anything to lose. He felt in his gut that Lavinia would return with the Belestine Queen in tow. King Radek had spread himself thin in his search for his sister and come up empty. This seemed to Carsire to be a sign that Lavinia had successfully escaped her older brothers clutches. Carsire found some solace in this.

Carsire had been a young boy when King Axilis Belestine had sat the throne, but his recollection of the Belestine ruler had been one of prosperity and peace. The records were less flattering but that was to be expected with the turnover in royalty. He could only hope that this Princess, the long lost granddaughter of King Axilis, would be just as fair. At this point, however, Carsire was willing to swear fealty to anyone who removed King Radek Tazarine.

That plague of a boy did nothing for the realm. He spent the dwindling treasury on expensive imports and his search for his sister. The poor were suffering and Carsire had heard the rumours floating around Gradisa. The people were beginning to question their King's decision to execute the maji born. Though they thought it unnatural and feared those with it the vast majority were worried about the dwindling population. Though King Radek was unwilling to admit it, a third of the population had majik and his decision to eliminated it had staggering consequences.

Carsire mulled over his thoughts about the King in the Crippled Spy. He often came here for meals in the evening. It was on his route home from the barracks and he found that it was the ideal place to quietly soak in the gossip on the town. Especially that of the rebel faction he had overheard on his first visit to the Crippled Spy.

Carsire dipped his toast into the thick greasy broth the barmaid had brought over for him and took a bite, letting the soup run down his chin. He wiped it away with his sleeve, keeping his attention on the door. The rebels would return soon, he knew that it was only a matter of time, and this time he would make contact.

They wouldn't reject him outright, that would appear suspicious and he had gone to great lengths to make himself approachable. He wore a simple white tunic with drawstrings and black trousers, his cloak was of a simple make in a soft tan. He had left his weapons at the barracks in an attempt to reduce the attention directed at his person.

This was night five of his visits to the Crippled Spy and he was feeling lucky. Carsire flagged over the barmaid.

"What'll it be tonight?" She asked. She was a squat middle-aged woman with dark brown curls, she was fair on the eyes aside from the burn across her right cheek.

"An ale if you would, and some more of that cornbread you make so well," Carsire said with a small wink at her.

Carsire nursed his ale for the next few hours. He ordered another when it was finished and moved to sit by the crackling fire, keeping his eyes trained on the door.

As the second pint of ale was placed in front of him the door opened and two familiar middle-aged women entered. Carsire recognized them from his first visit. Behind them trailed three men and two young boys.

They situated themselves in the same corner as their previous visit. Carsire took a sip of his ale and watched them silently. Waiting for them to settle in.