Fragments of Ash Vol. 3 (Urban Fantasy)

Chapter Twelve: Franciose the Sleuth

It took two days to get back to the capital, everyone else had packed up and gone home, they were desperate to get some well-deserved rest, however that didn't interest Francoise, the first thing on his list was finding out the truth. It was past midnight. Francoise was at the Hunter's Hangout sleuthing. If there was anyone who had the big scoops, it was the bartender, the ever present listener. It was well into the night, he sat on a bar stool and managed to grab the ear of the main man himself, while doing so he treated himself to a rare glass of whiskey, straight.

"So that's the rumour going around huh? I guess it makes sense," said Francoise, "if the Spell Fencers truly haven't been causing any trouble I mean."

"Makes sense dunnit? The two countries've been getting mighty friendly, but the Spell Fencers're still walking around fanning the flames, actin' like hot shit. Most of the lads here are on edge, they reckon shit'll hit the fan at some point or another."

"So Amelia is tied to Abram but the Spell Fencers aren't? They're an independent organisation? I didn't know that."

"A guy who was in the room during the meeting with the Prince said he heard Amelia say it. The Spell Fencers are technically swords for hire. On paper anyway. Bet Amelia's got her own plans with 'em."

"I can kind of understand why Abram would hire mercenaries, when the treaty was written, we both agreed to never increase the number of our armed forces beyond a certain amount, nor were either of us allowed to develop weapons with a range further than 50 Kilometres. Technically the SpelL Fencers aren't an army they've amassed, and they don't count as weapons."

"This Amelia bitch sounds like a headcase, sounds to me that she's just here to scope out her prey. Dunno how our King could let her do that."

"Because," said Francoise, betraying his oath as a knight, "the King is an idiot."

"Harsh words."

Francoise didn't reply, he took a guilty sip from his glass of whiskey, how satisfying, he hadn't tried nice, hard whiskey in a long time, not since Eleanor last took him drinking. The sharp taste of it brought back memories of his time with her, he looked down into the drink and saw a despaired reflection.

"Y'know, Eleanor talked about you a lot. Why'd you never come down here and visit the boys? It took you this long to come down and say hi?"

"This isn't really my type of joint..."

"Oh yeah? Too good for this place are ya?"

"No; too... young and naïve I think. I'm sure that's why Eleanor started to distance herself from me."

"Ya think so? I always sorta thought she was the type to want company all the time."

"What makes you say that?"

"Buddy, there's two reasons you come down to a place like this. Either to make friends and hang with mates, or to be lonely and drown your sorrows in alcohol."

"...I'm just here for info."

"Sure you are mate."

Francoise frowned and looked away dismissively. "Tch."

There was the sound of breaking glass outside. A sizeable amount of men were shouting. The Hunters Hangout was just that, so the only people around the area could have been Hunters; had they gotten into some sort of scuffle? People were shouting with absolute venom in their voices, true hatred spitting from their lips; there was definitely something going on. Francoise paid the bartender and walked out, curious as to what the fuss was all about.