The Midgewater was quiet but for the buzz of flies and the familiar "neek breek" croaking on insects. The sun dropped lower, the glow turning the brackish water crimson as Corrben stood on the edge of the ruin. He had spilled as much blood to soak the lands of his birth, the blood of southrons who seemed determined to destroy and steal all the hard wrought work his people had done. Raiders and thieves, rapists, murderers and con artists were all among the flow of folk from the south. For every innocent refugee whose only crime was being poor and foreign, there seemed to be three that were bound to make trouble. Like the one who still crouched on his knees, bleeding from his mangled face. Corrben turned and looked down at the mocking gap toothed grin on the squinty eyed man's face. Grimbriar had ordered his execution and it was not something he could argue against. The young Watcher felt the knot in his stomach tighten as he thought about how to do the job. It was not as if he had never killed but that was in the heat of battle, when it was his life or the enemy's life. This man was bound and could not fight back.
Rubbing his chin, frowning at the short beard the stubble had finally grown into, he made up his mind. Moving behind the prisoner, Corrben hauled him to his feet, keeping a tight grip on the bound wrists and the back of his neck.
"Finally got the balls, eh?" the man taunted, his nasally voice full of derision. "Becoming a murderer like the rest of us doing your master's bidding."
Corrben grit his teeth, hating himself for both being apprehensive about killing the man who was an admitted robber and murderer and for obeying an order to do so. The southerner was a piece of shit on the shoe of humanity and the world would be better off with out him. So why did he feel the hesitation to carry out the order? Corrben led the squint eyed man to the edge of the ruin.
Instead of answering him, he kicked the man in the back of the leg, forcing him to kneel once more. Finally, Corrben spoke, "I'll not draw your blood again. Do you see this land? Breeland. You desired it so much and your master still does, we will not give in easily. I'll let her have her revenge for your rapine."
Giving the squint eyed man a hard shove, Corrben watched him topple forward into the murky water. The southerner struggled and gurgled, fighting to right himself but his hands were bound behind his back. The water sloshed and the silt rose, obscuring what Corrben could see of the squint eyed man. Once the splashing stopped, the Watcher stepped back, kicking the rest of the man's body into the marsh.
He walked back to the road, keeping to the elongating shadows as he made his way back. Corrben passed by Bree, the town's warm lit windows beyond the great ditch and hedge were welcoming but he could not go in tonight, his destination was the small wayside cabin that Grimbriar was using as a headquarters. Approaching, he could see the silhouette of a guard outside and Corrben greeted him, allowed to go right in without further questioning.
Grimbriar was still awake, smoking his pipe at the table. Scattered around were empty plates and tankards, Brittleleaf and Oakdale snoring away in bunks. The Chief Watcher motioned to him, "Help yourself."
Corrben took a bowl of stew and some bread, still fresh, and sat down to eat. He gulped down a few bites as he felt Grimbriar's eyes on him. Swallowing a chunk of bread, he looked up finally, "I did as you said."
"Good," Grimbriar blew out rings of smoke, "I knew you would."
Corrben frowned a little, taking a drink of the ale. He did not know what to say to that. Of course, he followed the order but his stomach was still unsettled by his own actions. "I've disobeyed before."
"Yes, I recall," the Chief took a drag on his pipe, "But never when it really mattered. Besides, you know the score of things, don't you Fenflower?"
Corrben put down his spoon, folding his hands to lean forward, "I think I'm ready to go back to town duty."
Grimbriar narrowed his gaze at him, "Really? You miss a warm bed and a pair of warm thighs that much? You're doing good work here."
The younger man shook his head, "I'm not a soldier or a sellsword, I'm a Watcher. I want to be helping people and figuring out cases."
"You are helping, moreso than those people in town will ever understand and I hope they never do," Grimbriar shifted, "You know as well as I how much these farms have suffered, your own family has had to increase their defenses and last I spoke to your father he was considering even hiring guards. I thought I'd never hear that from Gatland Fenflower."
The Chief Watcher rose from his chair, tapping the ash of his pipe onto the floor, "Besides, don't you know why I hand picked you, Fenflower? You've got a fearsome reputation for muscle work. You think I don't know about those illegal bareknuckle matches that went on? Those skills are what I need out here.You did well with the southerner today."
Looking at his bruised knuckles, Corrben sighed, "He didn't talk though."
"He said enough," Grimbriar replied, reaching for the pouch of Old Toby. "The fact he was more afraid of his master than the pain you caused him and the threat of death. Did he say anything before you finished him?"
Corrben shook his head and shrugged, "Nothing more than boasting. He was unafraid."
That was not quite true, he recalled the look of fear in the squinty eyes of the man when he realized that Corrben was going to let him drown in the marsh. He had shit himself when the life left him and was forever entombed in the mud. An appropriate end to the bastard. Grimbriar took a long drag on the pipe, staring into the smoke that left his nostrils, "Truly. These men are not like the men of Bree. Nor even like those from the southern kingdoms, they are..strange. We'll figure it out, no worries and in fact, I'd like to offer you the position of team leader. You'll get a pay raise and a team of four to go out into the field once more."
It was a promotion and it caught Corrben's attention. He was still a constable, the lowest rank and had his last promotion denied because of some trouble he had with fighting and insubordination. Heathstraw had been the one to reject it, as he was left in charge of the town guard while Grimbriar was outside the hedge.
"What about Brittleleaf?" he asked, glancing at the snoring man.
"Brittleaf is a drunk," Grimbriar stated, "He's good enough sober but he's been hitting the flask too hard. I've got to dry him out and give him some time to get himself together. Oakdale is recovering but should be ready to be back in about a week. I want you to be in charge of the unit though. I've got a plan drawn up and we'll go over it tomorrow morning. That is if you accept?"
Corrben thought for a moment, he had been looking forward to getting out of the field but it was the only promotion ever offered to him, "Once I get back, does my rank stand? I'd like to work cases, maybe transfer to investigations?"
Grimbriar smiled flatly at that, "Fenflower, leave that to the lads with their noses in the lawbooks. I need your particular skillset here."
"Just to be muscle?" Corrben grimaced, how was he supposed to achieve anything if he was just a thug for Grimbriar? But if he refused, his career could be dead in the water. Finally, he nodded, "At least let me do intelligence gathering with my team."
The Chief Watcher smiled slowly, the stem of the pipe clicking against his teeth and he nodded, "Certainly, we can do that."
