When my eyes opened again the next morning, it did not take me long to identify the reason for my early awakening. Even in my state of groggy wakefulness, I could hear an almighty argument happening outside. The stone walls of the chapel allowed even the smallest noise to leak through. Combined with the location of the village – which allowed spoken words to echo off the surrounding hills and mountains – and you had a location where privacy wasn't to be expected.
I shuffled my way out of the sleeping bag and grabbed my shirt, sword and coat. Sandra was once again absent from the chapel building. I checked every other room to make sure before I went to the front door to see what the commotion was about for myself. I flung open the heavy wooden doors and quickly marched my half-asleep body down the stone steps. At the bottom of the hill where the chapel was located was a large group of villagers, who were in the middle of a rancorous debate.
"You can't expect us to abide by that!" one of the men barked – he was the same fellow who had given me a frosty welcome to the town the day before.
Another stranger with blonde hair yelled back, "You should have thought about it before you agreed to-"
Everything came to a sudden halt as the clatter of my plated boots drew every eye on the street.
The first savoured the chance to change the subject. He wagged his finger at me, "Didn't I tell you that we didn't need your help? We aren't paying you one bar!"
I stepped down again and came eye to eye with him, "I don't care much for what you think. I'm here to kill a drake and nothing more. Why don't you mind your own damn business?"
The grave tone of my voice was enough to make the man think twice about picking a fight with me. My arrival had sucked all the air out of the scene. Nobody was willing to continue the rambunctious debate that had been occurring just moments before. There were tight lips and averted gazes aplenty. It seemed that I had caught them with a hand in the proverbial cookie jar.
Sandra emerged from the crowd with a strained smile, "Apologies. These are… stressful times. I hope you won't think ill of us."
It was a little late to be worrying about that. Even by my low standards the people here were ill tempered, paranoid, and wouldn't know hospitality if it hit them over the head. I could tell just from looking over the assembled crowd that none were happy to see me. They had something in their eyes, something that put me on edge.
"Not my problem," I concluded. If they wanted to have a punch up in the middle of the snow-covered streets that was their choice. I didn't want anything to do with it. Whatever they were talking about wasn't for outside ears – because the huddle soon broke apart into several smaller groups and returned to their usual business.
Sandra started to climb the steps, "I'm going to draw some water. Would you like something to eat?"
One of them was hanging back and looking at me with intent. He was a young man with messy ginger hair and dense freckles. My curiosity got the better of me. I waved her away, "Don't worry about it. We brought our own food. Just wanted to get some fresh air."
Sandra nodded and left me alone for the time being. I wasn't on my lonesome for long, as the hanger on quickly hurried over to me and shook his head; "I don't even know what's going on around here anymore."
"Are you sure it's okay to speak with me?"
"What are they gonna' do? Listen, ever since that drake showed up, it seems like everyone in the village has lost their minds. I get being scared of the thing, but it ain't ever once been down here. Still – most of them never even talk about it anymore."
"Why are they arguing then?"
He shrugged, "I'm one of the few men here that doesn't work in the quarries. My Pa's the local blacksmith, so I'm learning the trade too. All I know is that they went out to do their usual business, that drake showed up and they came back one man less for it. They told his wife that he got clawed by the thing. After that, it seems they come out here to have a scrap every other day."
"…Come with me."
I escorted him up the steps and around the back of the chapel to the garden. There was a lone tree that stood tall over the rest of the valley. We huddled up under it. I rubbed my gloves hands together to try and return some warmth into them, "Name's Ren, by the way."
"Alain. Why the secrecy? You a thief or something?"
He was right the first time, but I deflected it; "Do you think a thief walks about with company like mine?"
He chuckled, "I've never seen a girl that tall, that's for sure."
"Well, just being with an Ashmorn is enough to attract undue attention. No, the reason I wanted to come over here is because we just went down to the quarry yesterday, and we saw some stuff that you might want to know about." This was a play. I needed to get more information out of him. I'd offer a little of what I knew to butter him up, and then ask for something in return.
"Like what?"
I frowned, "We found his body. They'd dragged him most of the way to the camp. Poor guy got totally mulched."
His eyes widened, "Shit."
"But I've got a magician and an expert hunter with me, and they had something more to say about what we found down there. I don't think you'll believe me, but the guy didn't get killed by a drake. Did you know that they were using Mana Stone as blasting material?"
"I did," he revealed, "The pit boss, Germain, found some of it while they were opening a new line a while back. It made the work so easy that the next time they delivered some of our goods to the cities, they bought even more of it to bring back with them. Why?"
"We found dragon shit, claw marks, everything you need to point the finger at it. But the beast didn't even get close to the camp. The only thing we found at the original sight of his death was a magical signature, one that would be left if something like Mana Stone detonated there."
Alain's face twitched as he tried to comprehend what I was implicating some of his countrymen in.
"You're saying they're lying about how he died?"
"Possibly. I don't know what motive they could have had for saying he died by drake. Maybe to spare his wife's feelings? Or to protect their use of Mana Stone for blasting purposes? There are too many pieces of evidence lying about the place for me to say it was the drake."
"T-They… they wouldn't do something like that, surely? Francis was a respected member of the village, we're like family!"
I looked down to the ground, "Even family can do wrong by you. Just ask Cali about living in Dwenivyr."
"If they did – I'd like to think it was to spare his lady's sorrow," Alain murmured, "He was a hard worker. I don't think she could rest knowing that he died to provide for her and their future children."
"I'm not accusing anyone of murder. I grew up in a rough crowd, but I wouldn't go that far just yet."
I was lying.
"But it might go some way to explain why everyone is at each other's throats right now. Trying to keep a collective secret like that never goes well. Someone is going to crack eventually, and then the truth will come out."
He was internalising something. I could see his mood shifting as he thought through what I had told him. He let out a weary chuckle, "Francis was a stubborn goat. Always butting heads with people. He was never a fan of keeping the chapel in such good nick. Said it was a waste of time and energy."
"And that was unusual?"
Alain stammered and I immediately sensed that he had said too much. He wobbled from side to side before elaborating further, "The chapel is the town's pride. It's our most notable landmark and the most beautiful building. Sandra really brought the doubters around to seeing it in a new light. Not Francis. I think his distant ancestors were caught up in some messy stuff with the church when it was still around."
I angled myself into the current, "In a few hundred years, people will be thanking her for taking care of it. It's history - you just don't know it yet." My last statement caused him to flinch. He was easy to read. I couldn't guess as to why he was struggling to keep his composure around the subject. Had he caught on to why Francis was being given the cold shoulder?
"Hm. I should ask them what happened."
I held up my hand, "Hold on there for a second. Be careful with this kind of thing. They're not just going to tell you because you asked."
"But I can't stand not knowing."
"Sometimes not knowing is for the best. Like I said, if they're already arguing about what happened – it's going to come out one way or another soon. Some of them are going to have it weighing on their guilt."
Alain was restless. I could see his feet shuffling back and forth through the thick snow. He paced back and forth in front of me, exhaling frozen air with each circuit. A guy who didn't know how to handle subterfuge would get like this. He'd lived in a tight knit community where everything that happened was fair game to discuss with others. This wasn't that. Something had happened that was so scandalous and dangerous that everyone who witnessed it had sworn themselves to secrecy.
He finally cooled down and came to a stop. A more pertinent question was on his mind. "If the dragon wasn't the one who attacked them, why are you still here? They don't have any money to pay you with."
"I know. I'm just here to kill a drake, nothing more and nothing less. When we're finished, we'll be out of here."
"That doesn't answer my question."
"And I'm not going to," I snapped back. I pushed myself away from the tree and got closer, "People do things for a lot of weird reasons. For me – killing the dragon is its own reward. I don't need bars. I've got enough of them to lay low and live easy for a few years."
"And what about Francis?"
"What about him? I'm not a guardsman. I just told you because you seemed interested."
I hadn't gotten what I wanted. Even though the man was sweating bullets from having the screws turned on him. He must have known that I was trying to pry him apart. He had smartly kept his mouth shut at that point. It wasn't what I was hoping for – but I hadn't lost anything for trying. This information was worthless to me if I kept it to myself. I couldn't piece together a series of events based on what I knew.
This was all ultimately immaterial to the reason I was there. If I killed the drake and left without learning the truth, I wouldn't care. They could deal with their own internal problems. Accident, murder, coverup. Those were incidents that happened all the time in Sull. Some of the most brazen lawbreaking I had ever seen waved away with a knowing wink to the guard who witnessed the whole thing.
"Not a man of virtue, are you?"
I laughed and headed for the door, "No. Come tell me when you find one."