The tavern stank of freshly spilled alcohol and blood. Chairs lay overturned, tankards rolling slowly as wary patrons quietly slipped out.

  Brenn looked at the dead body of the brave clerk, eyes glassy, and made his decision.

  “Let’s move.”

  Korrin arched an eyebrow. “I thought you didn’t want me to pursue the killer.”

  “Not him. Our original quarry, before he can be alerted. The assassin won’t go straight to him, so we have some time.”

  Korrin looked at him, mouth open, then nodded silently.

  Together, they jogged to the nondescript house which was the current headquarters of the Military Police. They already had to switch headquarters twice, after “random arsonists” had tried to burn the buildings, with them inside.

  While Korrin sent a man to retrieve Jarn’s body, Brenn addressed the rest of the two dozen soldiers. The hard eyed men, who had joined the ranks of Military Police in the last two weeks, had been chosen for their strength of character above all. Some were eager and idealistic young men, conviction burning in their eyes, while others were grizzled veterans, jaded with the corrupt system, who had dared to hope again. They stood straight as a ramrod as they faced Brenn. Thibault was among them, smiling like a loon.

  Brenn cleared his throat. “We are going to conduct a daylight raid, in defiance of General Hrodric’s orders, but I believe we cannot let this chance go. Understand that if you join me in this, you may answer for it before the General, or worse.”

  “More trouble than usual?” one of the soldiers quipped, and the restrained laughter of others answered.

  Every man stood firm, looking Brenn in the eyes.

  He smiled in return. “Let’s go clean some rot,” he said, and a flurry of salutes answered him.

  The men left the building in groups of two or three. Brenn changed into his military uniform, mounted his horse and together with his small escort, went to the residence of Commander Alfgar, who led the Fourth Battalion of the Royal army.

  Commander Alfgar’s residence loomed behind iron gates and manicured hedges, a mansion within the Inner Wall. Not cheap, especially for a Count’s fourth son.

  Flashing his insignia got Brenn through the gate, but not inside the mansion.

  The guard at the door stopped him with an extended hand.

  “I’m Captain Brenn from the Military Police.”

  “Never heard of it,” the guard said lazily.

  “It’s a new division of the Royal military. Now step aside before I charge you with obstruction of duty and haul you before General Hrodric.”

  The guard hesitated at the sound of the General’s name, but soon assumed his stubborn stance.

  Brenn exhaled in exasperation. “Look at the insignia, you fool.”

  “How do I know it’s not fake.”

  “Look at its quality! You know counterfeiting these is a hanging crime, right?”

  The doors cracked open.

  “What is the matter?” A nasal voice spoke from within.

  The guard tried to whisper, but failed at it. “He says he’s Captain of the Military Police.”

  The eye swiveled to look at Brenn, then spoke. “Give me a minute, Captain.”

  Brenn nodded. His men would also need some time to position themselves.

  A minute later, Brenn caught the flicker of a silver mirror flashing from the hedges in his peripheral vision. One flash, then two. Everyone was in position.

  He and his four men squared up their shoulders. He faced the guard. “Move aside. Now.”

  The stubborn man stayed where he was.

  Brenn flicked a hand.

  Two spear points found themselves an inch away from the guard’s throat, rooting him to the spot.

  Brenn grasped the ornate brass handles and tried to open the doors.

  Locked.

  He banged on them. “Open up!”

  He reared back and was about to kick them when there was a noise behind it.

  You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

  The doors opened at a glacial pace. A sharp featured man stood in the middle, flanked by two soldiers. His eyes narrowed at Brenn.

  “What is happening?” he asked in a deep voice.

  Ignoring the spears, the guard turned to him and bowed low, more like a servant than a soldier.

  Brenn saluted, as protocol demanded from an officer, not as a commoner to a noble.

  “Commander. I am Brenn, Captain of the Military Police.”

  The Commander’s voice came out as a low sneer, dangerous and condescending. “So you are the famous Captain who has been snooping around, besmirching the names of honorable men.”

  “Only looking for corruption, as per Her Majesty’s commands. Nothing more.”

  “There is none here.”

  “By your leave, I would like to take a look around.”

  “You don’t have it.”

  Brenn exhaled.

  “Commander, I have General Hrodric’s authorization in the matter.”

  The man’s temples flared, as he said through clenched teeth. “Then let the General come here himself. I would be happy to host him.”

  “I am afraid I cannot wait. I have reason to believe there is a criminal hiding within your household staff.”

  Alfgar’s eyes narrowed further. “And I’m telling you as your military and social superior, you may not enter my residence.”

  Brenn crooked two fingers behind his back.

  “I’m afraid I must insist, Commander.”

  A dozen soldiers forced their way through the main gate, marching toward them.

  Alfgar unsheathed his sword, while his three guards pointed their spears at Brenn.

  Brenn stepped back and took out his own sword. He might be a commoner, but upon reaching Vice-commander, he had earned the right to wield one and trained diligently.

  His men ran to flank him. Sixteen spears pointed themselves at Alfgar and his men.

  “This is what Nanon has been reduced to, where commoners give orders to and point weapons at their betters!” Alfgar thundered.

  “Move aside, Commander,” Brenn said in low voice.

  Alfgar swung his sword at him in an overhead arc.

  Brenn raised his own to intercept the attack.

  As metal met metal, a soldier jabbed Alfgar with his spear, making him flinch with pain.

  Brenn didn’t waste the opportunity and kicked the older man in the gut with all his might. To his surprise, Alfgar twisted to the side in time, absorbing the shock.

  The Commander followed by swinging his sword sideways, intending to take Brenn’s head.

  Brenn lifted his sword to put it in the way. He didn’t harbor the illusion that he could best the noble in a sword-fight, who had been training in its use since childhood.

  As their swords met, another soldier lunged to jab the Commander, who moved to the side reflexively. This time, Brenn drove his fist into the man’s face, breaking his nose. Before he could gain his composure, Brenn was already driving his foot into the older man’s torso.

  Alfgar fell back through the door. The soldiers were quickly upon him, spears pointed at his throat. His guards had already disarmed themselves in surrender.

  Brenn pulled the sword from the man’s grasp. “Tie their hands,” he told four soldiers, as the rest moved along with him into the building.

  An opulent scene unfurled in front of him. A bright red carpet covered the corridor floor, while all kinds of battle trophies lined the walls.

  Servants scurried out of their way as soldiers began checking the rooms.

  Brenn spied some man running to the back carrying a chest.

  “Put that down!” he shouted.

  The men kept moving. He gave chase.

  Before he had reached them, they stopped in their tracks. The soldiers from the MP’s other squad had arrived, barring their escape route.

  “Caught two men trying to flee through the back door, Captain,” the Sergeant reported.

  Brenn nodded. “Good work.”

  He noticed his second-in-command was missing. “Where’s the Lieutenant?”

  “He left us before we set the trap.”

  Brenn’s eyebrows knitted in confusion. He hadn’t gotten a moment to think when shouting from the front of the building reached his ears.

  Grunting in frustration, he ran back towards the front, where the soldiers had pulled the tied up guards and the Commander behind the large doors and were quickly closing them.

  “What happened?” he almost shouted in panic.

  “Dozens of men outside, Captain. Hurling spears at us!”

  “Free me, this instant, you cur!” Alfgar shouted through clenched teeth from the floor.

  Ignoring him, Brenn peered through the closing doors. Sure enough, dozens of soldiers had surrounded the building. At least twice their number.

  A spear flew at him and he reflexively jumped back, almost falling.

  Leaving the men, he ran towards the back, shouting, “Bar the doors and the windows. All of them, now!”

  The men froze for a moment before hurrying to obey.

  Brenn ran from one window to another, ensuring they were all closed. His eyes fell on the chest the men were carrying. He opened it to find it full of silver coins, enough to buy silence. He put his hand through them, and found ledgers hidden underneath.

  Evidence.

  A man was shouting something from the outside.

  He got back to the door.

  “Free the men you have captured this instant!” the man was shouting.

  Brenn peered through the crack in the door. The man was wearing a military uniform.

  “Shit!” he hissed.

  If this went poorly, he would find himself hanging on the gallows, and he would have dragged his men with him.

  The Commander sneered at him, eyes full of hate. “You have dug your grave, cur! Free me and I will ensure your death is painless.”

  Several scenarios went through Brenn’s mind; none with a positive outcome. And where was Korrin? Had he betrayed him? Impossible. One couldn’t fake the conviction burning in their eyes.

  Brenn was clutching his hair in desperation when a loud commotion outside drew his attention.

  Men shouting. Then steel rang, as it met steel.

  He went to a nearby window and opened it. Soldiers were fighting soldiers, more of whom were pouring in. Soon the newcomers visibly outnumbered the ones who had been threatening the Military Police.

  It didn’t take long for the men to be subdued.

  Korrin approached the door, breathing hard.

  “How did you do that?” Brenn asked, still dazed.

  “Called in some favors,” the younger man said nonchalantly. “I don’t know if you know, but many soldiers pray for your success, Captain.”

  Brenn smiled and pat him on the back. “You just saved my hide. Now let’s see if I can save it from the General.”

  Korrin’s face fell in response.

  ──────── ??? ────────

  Later that day, Brenn found himself facing a fuming General Hrodric.

  “I explicitly ordered you to not confront the noblemen yourself!” he roared. “And you don’t just go after some landless knight, but a Count’s son! A distant, but still, relative of a Duke! Her Majesty might have to bow her head to appease them! Explain yourself!”

  Ignoring the spittle being sprayed on his face, Brenn endured. “We had no choice, General. Time was of essence. If we had waited even a few more moments, they would have destroyed the evidence just as quickly as they killed the informant in front of us.”

  That gave the General pause.

  “Explain,” he said curtly.

  Brenn relayed his meeting with Jarn and what happened afterwards.

  Hrodric let out a long breath.

  “Did you at least find anything useful to justify all this?”

  Going against his instincts, Brenn smiled. Then produced the ledgers.

  Notice: I am planning two parallel plotlines (military purge + council reform) at the moment and stuck in the details. So the release schedule will slow down to 3 - 2 chapters a week until I have hammered them out and built a backlog. Thanks for understanding.

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