A New Star Chapter 37

Emily Sheffield 

Being a captain in the royal guard wasn't easy, and especially one that handled certain investigations. I had been dispatched, along with my squad of six, to the estate of the grand duke, and we were currently on the train. I still wasn't sold on this rather ominous method of travel, but others constantly assured me it was safe, despite the terrible racket the thing made. It was late afternoon and we were getting close to Umberton and we had a destination in mind for the stay that night. We wouldn't approach the duke and duchess just yet, but would instead gather some information and do a little work of our own before meeting them. 

I thought about all the work we had coming up, including having to deal with these problems in the north that were festering for a couple years now. The duke and duchess were good, quite good, and they kept their territories under control, but this was a problem from the central districts that was worming its way northward. They might not have done any more than caught wind of it yet, and it would fall to my team to take care of most of the particulars. I had a full squad with me, five specialized members of the guard plus their squad lead, making the team of six and us a group of seven with myself added to the numbers. I expected there to be some troubles at some point, but it would likely come from tracking down some of the element we were after. I had a disturbing report I had just finished paging through of a group of suspected assassins and thieves that had supposedly caught a train up to Umberton two weeks before. 

I was jolted out of my thoughts as the train we were currently on took a corner and bounced on an uneven joint in the rails. The tracks and carriages had improved over the last fifteen years, but the technology was still early, even if some rather brilliant minds were dedicating an awful lot of time to refining it. Why, there hadn't been a major crash in, well, almost three weeks now. Then again, the tracks were fairly safe and kept clear of beasts and wildlife and, if the worst happened, I knew my squad could easily handle it. After learning that a train traveling at over eighty miles an hour had an awful lot of kinetic energy, enough that most civilians had exactly zero chance of surviving a crash at that speed, the engines were now regulated to a top speed of no more than sixty in the countryside and thirty when passing through a city.  

"I can't wait to get off this rattletrap," muttered one of her unit, ironically mirroring her current thoughts. 

"Keep it down," the squad sergeant hissed at them. 

"Don't be so uptight, Sarge," muttered one of the others, avoiding the sergeant's eye when the later glared at him. 

"Enough," I said, holding the amusement from my voice. "It's evening now, almost into night, and we're about to get there. Remember the plan, and for the gods' sake, keep a lid on it until we know the layout of the town and people." 

"Yes, captain," came the quiet response, the group occupying a private room taking up part of the first passenger car behind the engine and water tender.  

The train rattled on for a little time yet, a thick stretch of forest whipping past the windows as they drew up on the last platform on the line. The massive iron and steel juggernaut that was currently easily dragging them up a slight incline at the end of the forest would get maintenance by the night crew and spun on a special rotary track section before picking up passengers and a new load of freight the following morning and barreling back south to the capital. We wouldn't have to worry about that for some time, getting off the late express to an empty platform, the only person present, other than the longshoremen ready to unload several boxcars, being a half-asleep clerk in the railway offices. The seven of us didn't need to register or offer documents, and we quickly exited the platform and made our way into Umberton. 

"This place is the pits," grumbled one of the unit, a man by the name of McCain. 

"Keep it quiet," snapped the sergeant, always on the unit to stay silent in unsecured areas. 

"Banter's fine," I said, which opened the floodgates. The unit quietly scoffed and complained as we worked through the seedier part of town. Intelligence, while not having a great picture for us, had given us a number of leads to track, the first of them being one of the criminal bosses the duke couldn't be bothered with putting down. 

We approached the tavern, named the Red Rose, though the sign was barely legible, in the middle of the night. Despite the time, this area of the town was still awake, plenty of light and noise spilling out from several buildings around us. The Rose was no exception, with quite a bit of noise seeping through the thick walls, a murmur that turned into a riotous growl the moment the lead member of the unit opened the solid oak door. The noise didn't abate much as we stepped in, a few heads turning to give us curious stares, but most of the patrons too absorbed in drink and women to pay us any mind. I nodded to a table in the far corner, one that had a single passed out drunk holding down the fort, something the squad easily and quietly took care of, moving the man to lay on his side behind a bench without any of the other patrons seeing the action. I put my back to the corner, the prime position at such an arrangement, privileges of being the boss, while the rest of the unit filled in around the rest of the seats.  

"What can I get ya?" a tavern waitress asked just as we finished settling. The woman was short and built somewhat like an ox, probably having some dwarven blood in her ancestry, though she didn't display all the characteristics so obviously. The woman behind the bar, on the other hand, was certainly a dwarf, likely even a full-blooded dwarf, and I kept an eye on how she was preparing the drinks as the table placed our orders. 

"What for food?" asked the sergeant. 

"We got roast boar, roast duck, mash pie, and a stew," the waitress listed. "I'd personally leave the pie; cook ain't too good with it." 

"Roast boar," the sergeant said, ordering enough food for the table. The unit ordered beers, the woman who had complained on the train relenting and ordering one as well after the sergeant gave her a death glare for trying to get a whiskey. 

"We're still on the clock," Sarge growled. 

"You're a real downer, Sarge," said another of the unit. 

"And don't forget it," Sarge snapped. 

The alcohol was quick to arrive, the one barmaid carrying it all over in a single trip without spilling a drop, though the food took longer. I wasn't sure if that was a good sign or not, but we all had tinctures to deal with bad or poorly prepared food, not that I wanted us to start using them night one of this investigation. When the wood plate piled high with greasy hunks of meat arrived, I was less than enthused, but the rest of the unit took to it with relish. The train had been less than ideal with the service, that being none at all for this trip for some reason, and we were all rather hungry. I kept an eye on both the group as we ate, making sure nobody was getting too carried away, as well as the rest of the tavern. 

I needn't have been so focused, though it was a very good habit to keep, as trouble emerged when we were most of the way through our meal and a few beers down. I felt it just before it happened, glancing at the door to the main room sharply right before that door was thrown open, the heavy oak smashing against the inner wall of the room with a bang. I took notice of several of the tavern residents reaching for weapons or readying their affinities, watching with some surprise as they all withdrew upon seeing who was striding through the door. My surprise only increased when I got a good look at the person, seeing a young woman that couldn't have been more than fifteen or fourteen walking into the main room. My surprise deepened, and my hackles raised, when I smelled the air of blood wafting off of her and noted the wounds still visible, albeit slowly healing, across her body. 

"Pietr!" she roared. 

"Boss is up top," one of the thugs, who had gone a little pale, and it was definitely from seeing this young girl, hastily informed her. 

"Get his fat ass down here!" the girl demanded. On seeing nobody move, the tavern almost entirely silent, she continued, bellowing, "NOW!" 

It was like the starting signal of a race, a dozen of the thugs from various tables and places in the room scrambling to get up and do her bidding. Her glare was not just cutting as it swept the room but instead felt lethal. I could feel my muscles tense and my hackles raise even further, if such a thing were possible, when her steely eyes swept over our table. Despite her apparent age, this was absolutely not a young woman to mess with, not in any way, shape, or form. Her gaze didn't linger, sweeping across the rest of the room as three of the thugs banged into each other on the stairs in their scramble to get up and inform their boss of the woman's presence. That boss would be one Pietr 'Redeye' Ranovich, a man on our list, someone who we wanted to talk to about several topics. 

"Captain, should we-" started one of the unit. 

"Quiet!" I hissed, the woman wincing at the reprimand as she realized her mistake. It wasn't a big deal, since merc companies had captains, but we tried to avoid using ranks when in the field, especially anything more than sergeant. "We wait and watch." 

"She's nine, by the way," muttered the sergeant quietly, his gruff voice just carrying to the table. I noticed the telltale glow in his eye of him having used one of his affinities to inspect her more closely; it was one of the reasons he was with the royal guard and our unit in particular. His ability to channel a bit of mana and obtain quite a lot of accurate information by just looking at a person was invaluable in the field. He might have pushed a bit too much, as the young woman's head snapped over to us and I kicked the sergeant in the knee under the table. He cut off his use of the power and, after a heavy glower, the girl went back to glaring at the rest of the room. 

"And somebody get this fucking knife out of my back," she snapped.  

We exchanged glances at the table, and I made a hand-sign to continue to wait and watch. If she really was nine, and the sergeant was very rarely wrong, then this was a truly remarkable person we had already encountered. I watched as the dwarven woman working the counter rushed around to the lady, having her turn around to examine what was, yes, a knife wedged into her back, blood still slowly leaking around it. The woman didn't seem to care about the niceties of proper medical procedure, grabbing one of the thugs and instructing the tall, burly man to yank out the knife. When he hesitated, her voice became colder than anything I had ever heard, demanding slowly, syllable by syllable, that he pull out the knife. The man took a grip on it and gave it a tug and the knife barely budged, surprising him and causing the young lady to release a string of curses.  

"What kind of fucking wimp are you? You pussy bitch, it's stuck in the damn bone, grab the fucking thing and pull like you’re a fucking man and not a mewling little slut!" she roared at him. I don't know if that made things any better; despite being a huge, tough thug, the poor man looked like he couldn't decide if he was going to pull the knife again, run away crying, or pass out on the spot. Following the scary young lady's orders clearly won out, as he grabbed hold of the knife even more firmly and gave it a massive tug, the whole room giving a collective wince as the weapon, and a lot of blood and some muscle tissue, ripped free.  

"Finally," the woman grunted. The dwarf quickly got to work on healing her shoulder, but that was soon interrupted by the appearance of the main boss himself, pounding down the stairs from higher up in the building and leaning against the railing of the second-floor balcony. 

"What're you doing, causing a fuss at this time of night-" he started, but was quickly and violently interrupted. 

"Give me one reason, Pietr, one fucking reason," the girl roared, power swirling around her like waves in a maelstrom, the dwarven barkeep staggering back before turning and running. "One reason why I don't tear this dirty fucking shithole of yours down right now." 

"Hey, hey, let's talk," Pieter said, those of us at the table in the corner goggling at the notoriously hardheaded and tough crime boss immediately taking such a passive and conciliatory tone.  

"What is there left to say?" the girl said, power building up to such a degree the floor around her started to groan and the windows were rattling.  

"What's got a bug up yer ass so hard!" Pietr barked then, losing control of his temper for a minute. "If some random slob stabbed ya, it ain't one of my boys or girls." 

"Four hours ago," the girl relayed in a deadly calm voice, power still swirling around her so intensely the air crackled. "Four hours ago, a member of my family was kidnapped. One hour ago, I intercepted the kidnappers, a group of assassins, and killed them to a man. The assassins, amusingly enough, had a scrap of paper on them talking about how they were aided in getting to, through, and around town by somebody powerful within the town." 

"Surely, you don't suspect me!?" Pietr cried. 

"Tell me true, now, Pietr, or it may be the last thing you ever do," said the girl in deadly calm. "Did you help those scumbags attack my family." 

"I did not!" Pietr bellowed. "I'll swear a Mana Oath, my life on the line, to prove it! I told you! Kidnapping, slavery, and assassination; we don't touch any of that shite. Way too messy, way too much heat. I'll swear it right now!" 

"Enough!" the girl said, silence descending on the room once again. "I believe you Pietr, no oath needed. But, if you didn't attack my family, then who do you think did?" 

"Obviously it was that bastard Robert!" Pietr roared. "I told you; he's fucked everything up. There's nothing that crazy cunt won't do! He'd stab his own ma in the throat for a penny! If you want somebody that attacked your family, look no further than Robert the Dread. Dread my ass! Go ask him about some assassins sneaking about!" 

"Oh, I will," said the girl, still wounded. The power didn't diminish in any way, but instead surged even higher, the girl throwing the tavern door open again and walking out into the street. 

Once she was out there, I saw the power surge from within her, as well as from without. A mass of darkness, thicker than mud and absolutely lightless, swirled around her on the ground before exploding up her body, leaving her coated in pitch black armor that drank in the light, a crown of absolute dark hovering above her head with nine radiant, glowing gems embedded within. Before the armor even fully settled, an even greater power exploded from her, lightning so dark purple that at the center it was black forming wings on her back, arcs of electrical current sparking between them and into the air around her. With a gesture, a massive spear appeared in her hand, the power oozing from it so visceral and overwhelming my breath caught in my throat, lightning flaring off the weapon in waves.  

"ROBERT!" the girl bellowed, the sound tearing through the town. After she let out the guttural howl, she disappeared from sight, only the shock of the air collapsing behind her giving clue to the tremendous speed at which she had moved.  

"Captain!" exclaimed the sergeant, standing. 

"Sergeant, secure the premises! First, second, and third blade, secure the surroundings! Fourth and fifth blade, on me!" I snapped off orders, already moving for the door. 

"And who the fuck are you!?" Pietr snapped as we moved. 

"Royal guard!" I bellowed, flaring my dark brown cloak to show the white and gold armor underneath before holding up my badge. "This just became a royal investigation. Stay here and stay quiet, or my sergeant will put you down like the dogs you are!" 

I could see the color drain from Pietr's face, what little was left after the girl that had stormed in and then stormed out earlier was done. He was gripping the railing tight enough the wood cracked and muttered something under his breath before throwing his hands up and turning to walk through a door behind him. 

"Before you go," I said, almost casual as the two squad members I had detailed took off after the girl. "Who exactly was that just now?" 

"Bloody fucking royal guard and you ain't even know that!?" he scoffed. "You just witnessed Alexandra Tabitha Mirriam D'Crough, eighth and scariest child of their graces, the grand duke and grand duchess." 

"Fuck me," I whispered, feeling the color drain from my own face. "Let's move!" 

I charged out after the two squad members, following their easily identifiable trail to try to catch up to the young lady, which I quickly learned was a futile effort. Nine damn years old and she was faster than greased lightning, reaching a spot close to the center of town well before I could catch her. She roared the name of the leader of the other gang in town once again before slamming her way through the door of a much nicer-looking establishment, and I meant that literally. The door exploded into a thousand splinters as the young woman charged through, the screaming starting almost immediately, some of which was cut off quite quickly with some very bad noises, noises I recognized from the battlefield.  

"Fourth blade, rear entrance! Fifth blade, top cover! I have the front!" I commanded, taking up a guard position. As much as I wanted to charge in there, I didn't want to mix up with what was happening, especially considering the strength of the young woman tearing through the building in front of me. As I waited, I detected a powerful surge of energy moving toward me, a surge of energy that resolved into half a dozen unique signatures. Turning my head, I watched as the grand duke, grand duchess, their captain commander, and three others I did not recognize appeared and swept up to me. 

"Report," the captain commander demanded of me. Technically, she outranked me but was outside my current command. 

Still, I answered promptly, especially as the unspoken idea was that it was the duke and duchess asking. "Young woman I believe is Alexandra D'Crough entered the establishment of a criminal known as Pietr 'Redeye' Ranovich, demanding answers for several things. On determining his non-involvement, she left the tavern and headed here, to the business of Robert 'The Dread' Smithson. She is currently, ah, destroying the place?" 

"Alex!" the duchess bellowed. Before she could enter the building, Alex emerged, dragging a bedraggled Robert behind her. She ignored all of us, dragging him slightly down the street to the edge of the town square.  

"Robert Smithson," she said in a cold voice.  

"You can't do this to me! I'm a fine, upstanding citizen of-" Robert stammered. It was quite amazing how beaten and intimated he was by a nine-year-old child.  

"Enough," Alex said coldly, her voice cutting through the air like a sharpened blade. "Robert Smithson, you are accused of crimes including aiding and abetting criminals in their aims of kidnapping and murder, embezzlement, extortion, attempted murder, murder, conspiracy to assassinate a noble, conspiracy to kidnap a noble, unlicensed aid to assassins outside the purview of the guild, and conspiracy to frame a third party for murder. Do you have anything to say?" 

"You-you can't, can't do this. I'm a member of this, of this communi-" Robert stammered, trying to break free of her grip.  

"Robert Smithson, I have here evidence of your crimes, along with confessions from your subordinates," Alex intoned coldly, holding up papers in her left hand. I exchanged glances with all the others watching from the duke's household, seeing confusion on many faces. The old man with the long beard had a pondering look on his face and was stroking his beard rather aggressively, but he was the only one that wasn't displaying some confusion.  

"Please, I didn't…I can make it up to them. Please, anything-" Robert flailed, glancing at the papers Alex was holding in her other hand as she held him off the ground by his collar. 

"Robert 'The Dread' Smithson, for your crimes, I hereby pronounce sentence. I have weighed the evidence and found you lacking. My verdict; guilty. The sentence; death," she said, her voice becoming ice at the end.  

"Death!? W-wait, I can explain-" Robert tried.  

"Enough!" Alex snapped. She hauled back, using the arm holding Robert, and hurled him through the air. Power swirled around her as she did so and as he sailed through the air, lightning coated her body and the spear from earlier again appeared in her hand. Robert slammed into the massive oak tree in the center of the town square and, before he could slide down or move himself, Alex took a step forward with just her right leg, her foot smashing down and shattering the pavers around her. As she stepped, she threw the spear, the weapon exploding from her hand so fast that it appeared as little more than a blue and purple line, a line that intersected with the center of Robert's chest, the spear slamming into and through the man's heart, only stopping when the pommel stone was touching what was left of his sternum. Robert hung there, blood pouring down his body and frothing from his mouth, the light of life fading from his eyes as he weakly raised his right hand towards the pommel nut of the spear, as if trying to grasp it, trying to grasp what had just happened.  

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