Hunt for Justice

The
characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.

Hunt for Justice Copyright © 2015 by James R. Vernon

Cover Illustrations and Design b
y
 Daniel Kamarudin

All rights reserved. In accordance with the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, the scanning, uploading, and electronic sharing of any part of this book without permission is unlawful piracy and theft of the author's intellectual property. If you would like to use material from this book (other than for review purposes), prior written permission can be obtained by contacting the author at
[email protected]
. Thank you for your support of the author's rights.

ISBN: 0996000658

ISBN-13: 978-0996000659

Just
a few people that deserve a special thanks.

My wife for all the support she has provided through this wild ride and for understanding when I disappear to write.

My immediate family for supporting all of the time and effort I've put into this journey.

My excellent beta reader, C.D. Verhoff, for helping me shake off the bad habits of a new writer. I am becoming an adequate adverb killer and plot streamliner thanks to her help.

My cover artist
,
Daniel Kamarudi
n
, for the amazing work he created that reflects the story and the world in the pages of the novel.

CHAPTER ONE

A Rowdy Crowd

Season of the Chill, 185 AP

Temple Bounty - 10 Silver (Alive)

Ezzy Ciantar stepped into the Last Stop Inn in search of the one man that had caused her father's death and taken away her family's livelihood. Although she had never met the man, she clutched an artist's sketch of her quarry's deceptively plain and innocent face. After two years of searching and chasing false leads, she had decided to go back to the last place he had been before her family's tragedy.

Pulling the hood of her cloak back, letting her raven hair cascade down to her shoulders, Ezzy's eyes scanned the common room for potential candidates to question. Unfortunately, the place was a crowded mess. There were too many people, too many chairs and tables crammed together, for such a modest-sized tavern. Discarded food and empty mugs littered the floor. In the back, a long bar was packed with men, the waitress or perhaps the owner, slinging drinks from behind it.  Three serving girls skirted around the mostly full room, trying their best to keep up with the orders of food and drink from those at the tables. They also were trying to dodge the grabbing hands of some of the more rowdy men.

All of it made Ezzy sick.

"You know," Nolan said, limping into the room behind her, "I can ask around without you. That way you don't have to subject yourself to all of this."

"I can handle it," she replied, turning around to face him. "I've been in worse."

He stood there wearing his usual vexed expression. His shoulder-length copper hair was tied behind him. The lines and wrinkles that decorated his face made him look two generations older than Ezzy instead of two decades. His clothes always matched his mood. Tonight, the ensemble was a black coat over a navy blue shirt and black pants. In his right hand, he carried his walking stick, a simple piece of oak sanded smooth with little decoration. He scanned the room with a pained expression. Did he eve
r
no
t
wear an annoyed expression?

"Worse in terms of appearance, maybe. But we've never been in a tavern this packed this late into the night. Most of these patrons are probably a few mugs deep into their evening festivities. I don't expect they will be as cooperative in answering--"

"Nonsense. I've seen how a few drinks can loosen tongues."

"It also makes men a bit more forward. And more likely to react in a violent manner. We might have enough money to last us a while now, but it wouldn't hurt to find a job or two for Paz. That won't happen if we have a repeat of the same events that occurred in Halyquain."

Throwing her hands in the air, Ezzy let out an exaggerated sigh. "How many times do I have to apologize for that? You've repeatedly brought it up all season--"

"It happened less than six days ago--"

"--and it really wasn't my fault. I was already angry about being sent on a wild goose chase. My temper got the best of me."

"Yes, well, I would prefer to sleep in a bed instead of outside for a change. So if you could control your temper and not get us run out of this town, I would appreciate it."

"I can control my temper just fine, thank you very much. Besides, you're the one that has a problem with being around so many people--"

"Don't start with that."

"I won't, because you're going to let me get to work."

She spun with a flourish, letting the hem of her golden-colored cloak strike the man, then strode into the middle of the room. What did Nolan expect her to do when that man in Halyquain had placed his hand on her backside? Ezzy had broken only two of his fingers. It wasn't her fault that the five or six of the man's friends had decided to get involved.

And she had promised to pay back the sobbing innkeeper for all of the damage. Eventually.

Reaching into the small bag slung around her shoulder, she dug out a few pieces of paper. Each one had the same drawing inked onto it: the face of a man around Ezzy's age, with shaggy black hair and a nondescript face. It would be pure luck if anyone in the tavern remembered seeing such an average-looking young man that was part of a caravan passing through well over a year ago. It would have been helpful if Fredren had drawn her a picture of the man's sister as well, but he claimed to never have seen her and didn't even remember her name.

Risking a glance back at the door, she let out an exasperated huff at the sight of Nolan still standing there. The man worried too much. Sending him her best annoyed look, she waved him towards the other side of the room. He needed to get started if they were going to get through the whole room before the patrons were too far along in their drink to remember much of anything.

Not waiting to see if Nolan limped into the room, Ezzy turned to the closest table.

"Hello gentlemen, I was hoping I could bother you for a moment."

Out of the five men sitting at the table, the one closest to her, was the only one to look up from his mug.

"Sorry lass," he slurred as his eyes tried to focus on her. "We're all farmers at this table. There is no way any of us could afford a girl that wears expensive cloaks and a fancy green dress."

"Afford? Afford what?"

Even as the words left her mouth, the meaning struck her like a whip. Her fingers curled into fists at her sides. How dare the man imply she was a prostitute?! Well, he had made it seem like she was a high-caliber prostitute, so that was something.

Wait, what was she thinking!

"For your information," she got out through clenched teeth, "I'm a member of one of the most powerful Hawkpurse families in Ven Khilada."

"That just makes you one of Drenk's whores," another man chimed in. That got a laugh from the rest of the men at the table. It took all of Ezzy's willpower not to punch him in the face.

"The reason I approached your table," she said in the sweetest tone she could manage, "is that I'm looking for someone. A person that passed through here almost two years ago. He looks like this."

She held out one of the portraits, slowly passing it in front of them so that they all could see. Three of the men glanced at it for a moment before shaking their heads. A fourth didn't even bother to look, his attention wandering to a serving girl as she passed. The fifth man, the one that had originally spoken, took a long look at the paper then a longer look at her.

"You're the Ciantar girl, aren't ya," he said in a more somber tone. "I recognize the bear claw insignia on your cloak."

"Yes."

"I'm sorry lass. Your father bought from my family's farm for years. It was a shame what happened to him and your--"

"Yes, thank you," she said, cutting him off. "I'm sure my family made you lots of money. Now, if you could help me find this young man..."

The man that had called her a 'whore' stood and shook his mug at her. "No need to get all high and mighty. From what I hear, your family--"

"It's ok, Meryl," the first man said, placing a restraining hand on the man's arm. He waited until Meryl sat back down before returning his attention to Ezzy.

"I remember that day your father's caravan came through. There was a travelers' wagon with the rest of the trade caravan heading into the Deadlands, but I never saw any of the people riding in it."

"Do you know someone that might have? If it helps, I also heard his sister was traveling with him."

"Oh? You should try asking one of the waitresses. I remember one going on and on about being treated poorly by a girl with that caravan. She mentioned two men with the girl, so one could be the guy in the picture."

"Yes!" She could barely hold in her excitement. "He spent a lot of the trip with a Saniteal named Iacane. The second man could be him."

"Well, like I said, I didn't see them. Here, hold on a moment." He turned and waved at a short brunette carrying a tray full of food. "Gladdy! Come on over here, cuteness."

"In a minute, hun!" she called.

Gladdy dropped off the food she was carrying and tucked her tray under her arm before making her way over to the table. A plain girl in a loose brown dress, there was nothing to distinguish her from any of the other serving girls Ezzy had seen. Was being plain the requirement for working in a tavern or inn?

"What can I get you, Tom?" Gladdy said, flashing a friendly smile.

"Nothing for me, lass--" A few coughs from the rest of the table, made him grin. "Well, I suppose another round for me and my friends, but this lady also has a question for ya."

Gladdy turned and looked Ezzy up and down, a frown marring her features. "Yes?"

"This gentleman here, Tom, is it?" The man she had been speaking to nodded. "He said that almost two years ago, the last time the Ciantar caravan came through, you had a bad experience with a girl and two men. Do you remember them?"

"Oh yes, I remember that day. The girl and her brother arrived first, and then an older man joined them. The girl was very rude and had an air about her. Like she was better than everyone." She glanced at Ezzy's cloak for a moment before continuing.

"Her brother kept trying to get her to behave, but it was clear he had no control over her. It wasn't until the Saniteal joined them that she stopped shooting me angry looks."

"The brother, did he look like this?" Ezzy shoved the picture she was holding in the girl's face.

"Uh, yes? I didn't pay him much mind but that could have been him. I think his name was Ren? Or maybe Ben? I remember it being something short."

"Ean?"

"Yes! Ean, that sounds right."

Grabbing the waitress' arm, Ezzy pulled her close. "What else do you remember? Did they say where they were from? Where they were going after they left the Deadlands? Did they ever pass back through here?"

"I...uh...don't remember much else. I never saw them again. The Saniteal's name was Iacane, if that helps. They all seemed pretty chummy."

"I know that. No one knows where Iacane is either," Ezzy mumbled to herself. Doing her best to control the frustration she felt, she released the girl's arm. "Do you remember anything else? Even the smallest bit of information might help."

"Not about that Ean fellow, but the Saniteal did pass through here again."

"What?"

"The Saniteal. The one named Iacane. He passed back through--"

"Yes, I know. I heard what you said." The shock of finally finding new information had caught her off guard. "Did you talk to him? Do you know where he went next? Were Ean and his sister with him?"

"I just saw him go into the town Healer's shop. Didn't talk to him. You should ask Joseph Traint. It was his shop. He might remember the man."

"Great. Is he here?"

"No, he stays with the Yanst family most nights. Their son came down with a horrible cough. Strangest thing, since his family has always been--"

"Yes wonderful, he is helping some sick boy. Where is this family's home?"

"You're not thinking of going now, are you?" Gladdy asked.

"You can't go bothering that family this late at night," Tom chimed. "Their boy needs rest."

"It's really important that I talk to this man. Every day wasted is a day I fall farther behind."

"Then you'll just have to make it up some other way," Tom said in a way that made it clear he considered the conversation over. "Joseph will be in his shop tomorrow morning. You can talk to him then."

After a year of knowing nothing and then following too many rumors and wild goose chases the past few seasons, to be this close to something tangible and have to wait was too much.

"It's really not that late, after all only one of the moons is up. I could just stop by for a moment, get the answers I need, and then be on my way."

Tom shooed Gladdy away before turning in his chair so that he was facing Ezzy. Whatever he had had to drink that night must have run its course, as he was looking at her with eyes that were both sober and intense.

"Listen girl. I understand what happened to your family was horrible--"

"You have no IDEA what my family--" she tried to cut in, but he spoke right over her.

"--and not one of us will ever know what it's like to have so much and then lose it all. But if you're looking for this young man, this Ean fellow, because you believe he was the one responsible, you need to let it go. Revenge can ruin a person, and your family has already been through enough."

"Let it go?" she growled, "Let it go?! This 'young fellow' is the reason my father is dead. The reason my mother and two younger brothers are forced to live in a shack they can barely all fit in. He is the reason that the other Hawkpurse families were able to steal everything from us."

Two years of pain and frustration bubbled to the surface.

"Let it go? I'll let it go when Ean is brought to justice or buried in the ground."