Exploitable Weaknesses by Brian Keller (red queen free ebook txt) 📗

he no longer had a specific target to hunt and kill. That obligation had ended. The fact that he hadn’t actually been the one to strike the death blow didn’t disturb him in the slightest, but he couldn’t get the circumstances out of his mind. The older mage had actually thrown lightning, or that’s what it looked like, and it had hit him squarely and the Spymaster was killed. He recalled there had been a young woman who’d grasped the older man just before the magical attack. Had they somehow pooled their Talent? Was that possible? He attempted to dismiss it as an event that he might never understand, and tried to simply accept that his target was dead, but he knew that his mind would return to it at some point.

He busied himself with polishing his blades and putting fresh edges on them before breakfast. During breakfast he got the attention of Gaff and Naro. They were seated together and they signaled that they’d seen him and would be ready. Cooper spoke with four of the men they’d released from the quarry and the men had all responded eagerly. He also convinced Dailen to come along ‘to inspect the workmanship’. After breakfast they set off, with three men sharing the load of a rolled up tarp.

By lunchtime they’d exchanged the horses, rented a wagon and had loaded the metal basket that Cooper had commissioned almost three weeks earlier from the smith at the south end of the Waterfront District. Dailen examined the entire workpiece and gave Cooper an approving nod. Even though there were eight of them, the smith and his assistant had to help them get the cage loaded into the wagon. As the men spread out the tarp to cover the basket, the assistant wiped his brow and commented, “I hope ya got some more people ta help ya unload it. Whaddiya need somethin’ like that for anyway?” The smith lightly struck his assistant’s shoulder and grumbled, “Ya oughta know better’n ta ask! Get back ta work!” The smith turned to Cooper, “Sorry ‘bout that, young sir. He’s jes’ bein’ nosy. He don’t mean nuthin’ by it.” Cooper shrugged as he handed a pouch containing the sum they’d agreed upon, then handed the man an additional thick gold coin and explained, “I recall offering a bonus. It’s only been three weeks.” The man raised a hand to his forehead, “I thank ye fer that, young sir. Any time ye need somethin’… custom, don’t fergit me!” The man’s grin revealed several gaps where there should have been teeth.

Gaff and Naro had already climbed into the front of the wagon, taking the reins, and the four men had climbed into the back, wedging themselves as comfortably as they could manage, considering the large basket took up most of the space. Cooper gave Dailen a brief wave, “I think we’ve got it from here. I won’t keep you any longer.” Dailen looked at the wagon, then back to Cooper, “Are you sure?” Cooper nodded, “You said its sturdy and well crafted… we’ll just use the horses to drag it off the wagon and get it positioned where we need it. We’ll be fine.” As Dailen turned north and walked towards the Ruins, Cooper wished he felt as confident as he sounded.

They turned the wagon south and crossed the Whitefoam into the Trade Quarter. They stopped long enough to buy food for lunch. Cooper bought bread, meat and cheese for dinner as well, just in case. It was fortunate that he had, the roads leading through the fields south of Miller’s Flats were none too regular and completely un-maintained. A few miles north of the Southern Cliffs, the roads ceased to exist. The terrain seemed to grow rougher the further south they traveled. On more than one occasion Naro mentioned that it had been a good decision to switch horses. The horses they had now were draft horses, meant for pulling rather than riding. They seemed to exert little effort dragging the wagon through all manner of ups, downs, and bumps. The same couldn’t be said for their passengers. They were still a mile north of the cliffs when the last man opted to hop out of the back of the wagon to avoid being pinned as the basket shifted yet again.

Cooper had walked the entire distance, often falling far behind while waiting and watching the path they’d taken. He would then run to catch up, only to wait and watch again. He had no reason to suspect that the smith would report such an odd commission to authorities, but if any other customer had seen the huge basket as it was being formed, it was bound to have generated some curiosity. ‘Curious things’ often became the stuff of rumors, and rumors found eager ears in many walks of life. It made sense to make sure they weren’t being followed.

The sun was already over halfway to the horizon by the time they’d reached the Cliffs. They pulled the wagon as close as they dared to the edge and unhitched the horses. They used large rocks to block the wagon wheels and tied the horses to the basket and led them away from the wagon. The cage hit the ground with a resounding ‘clang’ and Cooper told them, “Turn it right side up. Check the welds as you do. We’ll need to use the horses to draw up the chains.” Gaff unhooked the horses and one of the men asked, “What chains?” He looked uncomfortable as he realized he might be asking a question that he shouldn’t. One of the other men tried to cover for him, “We’ve all been wondering what this is all about. If it’s something we shouldn’t be askin’ about, just forget it. We’re all just glad to be helpin’ out.” All the men nodded in agreement and the first man added, in a plaintive tone, “It isn’t like we’re gonna rush