The Chronicle of the Worthy Son

Washed Up

The enforcers were not guarding the Municipal hall the next morning, so Able took some time to inspect the carvings on the pillars. He even took out his notebook to sketch out copies of them. His foreigner's eyes recognized boats and fish and perhaps nets, but other patterns and objects were indecipherable. He'd need to ask about them.

That done, he went inside. If he was lucky, the mayor would have another odd job for him. He'd promised Lark they'd go shopping for groceries later today, and while he was certain he had enough money to cover that, more would not hurt in the long run. But Nightwatch's office was deserted.

No, just unmanned. The lantern was still lit, and the inkwell was uncapped. The pen even lay beside a half-written sentence in the margin of the town plan. Able listened in the stillness until he made out muffled voices. He followed the sound past the empty offices until he could clearly make out the hushed voices of two men behind a storage room door.

Best not skulk. Able opened the door.

Nightwatch jolted in alarm. "What are you doing here?!"

"Well, I had a question for you, and it's not like the door was locked?" Able shrugged, then looked at the thin, blond man beside the hoary elder. "I'm going to guess Forest Mason?"

Fear flashed in the man's eyes. "What do you want?" So he was indeed the arrested secretary.

"Well, I was going to ask if the mayor here might have another odd job for me, and now I have more questions for him. But before you get any more apprehensive, I'm going to talk long enough for you to recognize my voice and reiterate that I am maintaining neutrality in this conflict to the best of my ability. I draw the line at putting people in danger, and I expect telling anyone that you're here would count."

"...you're the one they kept calling 'chronicler.'" Mason let a few of his hackles fall.

"Yes, I am." Able put a professional clamp on his rush of excitement. "Are you willing to answer my questions?"

The secretary exchanged a long, questioning look with the mayor, whose face was studiously blank. If only Able had brought Lark along—no, he could certainly manage this himself.

"Heh, asking questions is the only thing you know how to do," Mason scoffed lightly. "What do you want to know?"

Able fought back a smile. Mason's forced machismo was a sign he might cooperate. "Did the sheriff recover his missing men, or is there likely to be a hostage exchange in the works?"

"Oh, uh," Mason stalled with a surprised blink. "Maybe you didn't realize this, but I am not actually a member of the Resistance. Or was not. I might not have a choice anymore."

"The sheriff knows the evidence against you was trumped up," Able assured...or maybe that wasn't very reassuring. "I read the report myself."

"But that was before the Resistance rescued me. Now he may think I know of a secret base or something."

"Do you?" Able raised his eyebrows.

Mason folded his arms and looked away. "...I don't know. There was a camp, but... it didn't look very permanent. But I could still find my way back to it if, for example, my life depended on it. Look, I'm scared and I don't know what to do or where to go. I'll admit that. Write it down, if you like."

"Do you wish they hadn't freed you?" Able frowned and cocked his head.

"No?" Mason seemed startled. "Who's to say the sheriff wouldn't have just locked me up indefinitely once we got to the castle? Or...or worse?"

"True enough."

"I shouldn't have come back." Mason tugged at his hair hard enough that some came away in his fingers. "I'm putting everyone in danger. But I...they asked me to join them. Me! I can't join them!"