The town came into view as the sun began to rise over the horizon, casting a dull light on the weathered wooden buildings and cobblestone streets. It wasn't much, a small outpost nestled between the forest and the trade road. But it would serve its purpose. Kael and the others rode in silence, their eyes scanning the town's outskirts for any sign of danger.
Kael's wounds still ached from the ambush, but he pushed the pain aside. There would be time to rest later. For now, they needed answers. Veyron rode beside him, his face pale but determined, while Harlan and the others followed closely behind.
"We should split up when we get inside," Kael said, his voice low. "Ask around quietly. The last thing we need is to draw attention."
Veyron nodded. "You think they'll talk?"
"They'll talk," Kael replied, his eyes fixed on the town ahead. "Everyone has a price."
The streets were quiet as they entered, save for a few early-morning traders setting up their stalls. The town felt like a place where secrets were bought and sold, a place where even the walls had ears. Kael dismounted, motioning for the others to do the same.
"We meet back at the inn," Kael said, pointing toward a rundown building at the edge of the square. "If you find anything useful, bring it there."
The group dispersed, moving through the streets with the practiced ease of men who knew how to keep their heads low. Kael made his way toward the heart of the town, his eyes scanning the narrow alleyways and shadowed doorways. He had been to places like this before, towns where mercenaries, spies, and thieves mingled with traders and farmers. It was the kind of place where gold could buy anything, if you knew where to look.
Kael pushed open the door of a tavern, the smell of stale ale and smoke greeting him as he stepped inside. A handful of patrons sat hunched over their drinks, their eyes flicking toward him briefly before returning to their cups. The barkeep, a grizzled man with a scar across his forehead, glanced at Kael as he approached the counter.
"Looking for something?" the barkeep asked, wiping down a mug with a rag that looked as dirty as the rest of the place.
"Information," Kael replied, sliding a few coins across the counter. "About a group of soldiers that passed through recently."
The barkeep's eyes flickered to the coins, then back to Kael. "Lots of soldiers pass through here. Hard to keep track."
Kael added another coin to the pile. "These weren't just any soldiers. They were hired to wipe out a mercenary band."
The barkeep's gaze lingered on the coins for a moment longer before he pocketed them. "There was talk. A group of soldiers passed through a few days ago, heading north. Didn't stay long, but they were well-equipped. Not your usual rabble."
"Who hired them?" Kael asked, his voice steady.
The barkeep shrugged. "Didn't ask, didn't care. But I heard they were in the service of a noble house, one with deep pockets."
Kael leaned in, his voice dropping to a low growl. "Which house?"
The barkeep hesitated, his eyes darting to the door as if expecting someone to burst in at any moment. "Look, I don't want trouble. If you want names, you'll need to talk to someone who deals in that sort of information."
Kael's patience was wearing thin, but he knew pressing too hard would only scare the man off. He nodded, slipping another coin into the barkeep's hand. "Who?"
The barkeep glanced toward the far corner of the tavern, where a figure sat cloaked in shadow. "Talk to him. He's the kind of man who knows things."
Kael's eyes followed the man's gesture, landing on the cloaked figure. He could barely make out the man's face, but something about the way he sat—the stillness of his movements—made Kael uneasy.
Kael crossed the room, his footsteps barely audible on the wooden floor. The cloaked figure didn't move as Kael approached, but as soon as he sat down across from him, the man's eyes flicked up, sharp and calculating.
"You're looking for information," the man said, his voice smooth and cold.
"I am," Kael replied. "About a noble house that hired soldiers to ambush a mercenary band."
The man smiled faintly, his hands folded neatly on the table. "Information like that doesn't come cheap."
Kael reached into his pouch, pulling out a handful of coins. He set them on the table, his eyes never leaving the man's face. "I'm not interested in haggling. I want a name."
The man's eyes flicked to the coins, then back to Kael. "I know who you are, Kael. I know who you work for."
Kael's hand tightened on the hilt of his sword, but the man's smile didn't waver. "Relax. I'm not your enemy. In fact, I might be the only one who can help you."
"Then help me," Kael said, his voice low and dangerous.
The man leaned forward, his voice barely a whisper. "The house that hired those soldiers... they're connected to someone far more powerful. A faction within the empire. The soldiers were just pawns."
Kael's eyes narrowed. "Which faction?"
The man hesitated, as if weighing the cost of revealing too much. "The soldiers were working for one of the religious empires, the Iron Circle. They've been making moves in the shadows, aligning themselves with certain noble houses, using them to do their dirty work."
Kael's mind raced. The Iron Circle was one of the most powerful religious factions in the empire, known for their influence and ruthlessness. If they were behind the ambush, then this was far more dangerous than he had anticipated.
"Why target Kerric's band?" Kael asked, his voice barely more than a whisper.
The man shrugged. "That, I don't know. But if the Iron Circle is involved, you're in over your head."
Kael's jaw tightened. He didn't like being told he was outmatched, but the man was right. The Iron Circle was a force to be reckoned with, and if they were pulling the strings, this was about more than just a mercenary band. This was about power. Control.
Kael left the tavern, his mind heavy with the weight of what he had learned. Veyron and the others were waiting for him at the inn, their faces tense with anticipation.
"Well?" Veyron asked.
"We're dealing with more than just a noble house," Kael said, his voice grim. "The Iron Circle is involved."
The others exchanged uneasy glances. The Iron Circle was notorious, a religious empire that had its hands in everything, from politics to war. Crossing them was dangerous, but avoiding them was impossible.
"What do we do?" Harlan asked, his voice tight with fear.
Kael's mind raced. They could try to regroup with Kerric, but that would put them all in more danger. If the Iron Circle was after them, they needed to move carefully. They needed more information.
"We find out why they're targeting us," Kael said finally. "Then we strike."
As the group prepared to leave the town, Kael's mind churned with possibilities. The Iron Circle's involvement had raised the stakes, and now, more than ever, he needed to stay ahead of their enemies.