The Good Captain speaks frankly

it's a good thing Heather was around.

Hearing footsteps coming from the hallway behind the counter, the mercenary clawed his anger into a small box in his mind and waited to see who the blonde would bring back with her.

“You came crying to me because a man scared you?”  A man’s baritone voice came from the hallway.  “What kind of a bean-cheangail are you?”  The blonde must have answered him because when he poked his head through the door, he blinked and saw Balgair standing there with a tempered frown.  “Oh, I see,” he murmured as he stepped through the doorway and appraised Balgair for a long minute before pulling himself to attention and saluting.  “What can I do for you, Captain?”

This isn’t good, the man, a staff sergeant thought as he watched the mercenary’s eyes as they scanned the room.  He could tell that the man was just short of being angry. 

When his eyes fell on the poor staff sergeant, his lips thinned as he held in a caustic remark.  Patience, patience, patience, Balgair chanted internally.  In a very quiet, menace-filled voice, he addressed the staff sergeant.  “Is anyone present who can activate your town’s communication crystal?” 

The staff sergeant had the decency to look embarrassed.  “No, sir.” 

Balgair rubbed his chin, closing his eyes as he tried to remain calm.  “According to the High Council’s orders, there is always supposed to be someone present who can use the crystal.”  He couldn’t believe that a town had violated the law.  “Where is your Mayor?”

“Umm, he’s visiting Derosa Springs.” 

One down, “What about the Captain of the Guard?” 

The staff sergeant didn’t like where this was going and agreed with the Captain’s stance.  “He’s out on patrol.  He won’t be back until Fryas.”  Which was three days away.

Two down, “The Magaidh, who is supposed to be on duty?” 

“With the Mayor at Derosa Springs.” 

Balgair knuckled his upper lip.  “The Reve was killed, so that leaves an empty spot.”  You have to give it to him. He’s holding up well to an angry Captain.  He breathed deeply and calmly commented.  “Please take me to the crystal. I have authorization to use any communication crystals.” 

The staff sergeant saluted, “Sir, yes, sir.”  He waited for Balgair to return the salute, then carefully stated, “I’ll need your name and unit, sir.” 

“I’d probably kill you if you didn’t ask me for it.”  Balgair off-handedly replied, causing the Staff sergeant to pale. 

“Yes, sir.  Please follow me.”  As he passed the clerk, he stated, “Get to the cleaning.  Just because your maighstir isn’t here, doesn’t mean you don’t have to work.”  The clerk nodded fearfully and started cleaning the chamber. 

Balgair gestured for Heather to follow him and followed the Staff Sergeant through the hallway behind the counter. 

“Sir, I did warn the gentlemen that they were violating the council’s orders, but as you can tell, they didn’t care.”  The Staff Sergeant commented. 

They walked down a hallway decorated with framed pictures of past council members, reve’s, and guardsmen.  Every fifteen feet or so, an ancient coat of arms was hanging on the wall. 

“Here we are, sir,” the staff sergeant gestured to the iron-banded door made out of some silvery wood.  “She will need to stay out here.”  He gestured to Heather.

“No, she won’t,” Balgair growled as he squared up, facing the soldier.  “She will be coming in with us, Staff-Sergeant?” 

“Tackett, sir.  Staff Sergeant Tackett.”  The man paled slightly as he took a step back from Balgair. 

“You know as well as I do, Sergeant Tackett,” The Mercenary coldly stated, “that bean-cheangail may enter the crystal chamber and use one as well.” 

“Well, sir, the Mayor has ….”

“Is this the same mayor that disregarded the council rules?” Balgair quirked a brow. 

“Umm, yes, sir,” Tackett replied. 

Balgair shook his head. What are these people thinking?  Could the Reve have been the only smart one in the bunch?  “How about we just ignore what the mayor wants for now.”  He reached out and clasped the sergeant’s shoulder.  “If anything bad happens, I’ll take full responsibility.”

Tackett glanced at the hand on his shoulder, then back to Balgair.  “Very well, sir.  Just let me grab the signal book.”  He shrugged off Balgair’s touch and invited Balgair and Heather into the signal room before walking to the other side of the chamber and digging around in a black metallic box attached to the wall.

Heather followed Balgair into the chamber and stood beside him.  She stepped up behind him on impulse and wrapped her arms around him.  When she rested her head against his back, she could hear the steady beat of his heart and sense the approval through the link.  She closed her eyes as she fell into a light trance. 

A few minutes later, she opened her eyes and looked around, catching sight of the milky white gem set into the top of a crystalline frame that was showing a starry pattern. 

She was forced to release the hold on her maighstir as the Sergeant returned, holding a leather-bound book. 

Tackett opened the book and placed it down before the crystal.  “Sir, would you please state your name and rank?” 

“Of course, my good sergeant.  I am Captain Balgair Moeldr, Commander of the Black Swans of the Black Hills Company.”  The Mercenary stated with great reverence. 

The Staff Sergeant scanned the first four pages until he found what he sought.  “Bho chnoc gu dale Bho fhean gu boglach.[1]”

“Bidh na h-ealachan dubha ag itealaich tron oidhche Na till air ais bhon t-sabaid a-riamh.[2]” The Mercenary replied without a second thought.

The Sergeant listened, nodding when the passphrase was finished.  “I’d say, welcome to town, sir, but I’m guessing you’ve been here a while.”

“Nay, barely a day, maybe two.”  Balgair grinned.  “Might I get some privacy for the next hour or so?” 

“Of course, sir.” Tackett agreed, then handed him a small stack of papers.  “Here is the contract that you asked about.”

Balgair took the contract and read it as Tackett walked out and shut the door behind him.

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[1] From hill to dale, from fen to bog

[2] Black Swans fly by night, never retreating from the fight.