Chapter 9 – Part 13

Tettalla, or Tetty, as his grandchildren called him, was fussy. It was his business to be fussy. He had been a clerk in the army of the Eldeen, and a butler after that to a lieutenant who had been promoted to a captain, and then a major, and finally a provisional general. When Tetty had first met the young man, he’d been more concerned with studying the druidic mystics than commanding an army in the field. Due to the fact that he’d survived battles that his superior officers hadn’t, the young man had both aged rapidly and been promoted rapidly.

And Tetty had been with him, assisting him, helping the provisional commander move the things that needed to be moved.

At one time he’d had twelve grandchildren that called him Tetty. Now he only had three. The other nine had been lost to Aundairian weapons, Aundairan spells, or famines caused by Aundairian attacks.

It shamed Tetty that he could remember a time when he saluted Aundair’s flag. Before Aundair had abandoned them, then sought to reclaim them in blood.

Tetty dusted first, then checked the ties on the clothing bags. The cords had to be drawn most tight, then sealed with wax in order to prevent humidity damage. After checking on the ties, he turned down the bed. A spot of something caught his eye, but he couldn’t identify it. He made a note to do more laundry.

He then checked the desk. It was a simple thing, with drawers that never carried anything other than pens and ink, as the important papers were kept in locked and trapped boxes, but Tetty always studiously waxed the desk surface three times every day. There was always a chance that the scratches on the desk may give a clue to someone who ought not be there, so he waxed frequently. This was even more important lately, as the provisional commander was about to move the army into Aundair before the heavy snows came.

Tetty wasn’t supposed to know that, but he was a keen observer, and the provisional commander had been fretting about challenging the major, and other junior officers that were older than he. The middle officers wanted to disband, but the provisional commander was determined to advance.

The man had been so worked up about it, that he hadn’t given Tetty the usual cheery greeting that morning. Ever since they’d survived an attack two years before, the provisional commander had always greeted him the same way. “Good morning to you, Tetty, and mind the arrows.”

This morning it had just been “Good morning,” and the man’s eyes had been puffy and sleepless. The provisional commander had barely touched his breakfast, and he’d departed with his bodyguards to get to the meeting early.

Tetty felt bad for the man. He was so overworked. It was so much responsibility for one so young.

The gnome bustled over to a corner of the tent where a long chest sat. He frowned. It should properly be standing. There were delicately folded winter linens in there.

Tetty lifted the chest, or tried to. It was much heavier than it should have been. He frowned, and fingered the latch.

There was a lock on it. A new, unknown lock.

Tetty whirled and looked at the boxes with the military documents. They were still sealed, untouched, the magical alarms in them having not even been jostled. The gnome then turned back to the long chest.

A cheer went up from outside. Shifter and human voices began animatedly discussing the rumor that they’d heard, about being discharged for the winter.

Tetty grew cold inside, and slid a long, slim took from his belt. He’d been apprenticed to an artificer in his youth, and while he’d gone in a different direction in the end, he’d learned something about locks.

He was rusty. It took him a good three minutes to get the lock open and discover the provisional commander’s body. It took him a whole ten seconds after that to alert the red scarves that the provisional commander had been killed, and that a changeling was currently giving orders to disband the army.