Chapter 82: Crescent
It was not her real name.
Encrid understood that before she had even finished saying it. Nobody in an organization like the Blue Moon handed a stranger the name their mother had given them, and a woman who had spent her entire life making herself difficult to find was not about to become traceable for the sake of good manners.
But it was the name she had chosen to give him, and in the trade she worked in, that was perhaps more meaningful than the truth.
"Crescent," Encrid said with a polite nod. "You probably already know more than my name, so I won’t bother introducing myself again."
Crescent let out a dry laugh and gave him a knowing nod.
"You wanted a man found."
She pulled a single page from the stack beside her and turned it around.
"He has lived on this Wall his entire life. Rael. Twenty-two years old, although he looks older than that."
Encrid picked up the page and scanned it.
"There is no family record, no place of birth, and no guild registration."
Crescent pointed toward the bottom of the page.
"The Wall’s own ledger lists him as being born here."
Encrid looked at the entry.
"Born on the Wall."
"Yes."
He continued reading. There was very little information.
"He works for himself," Crescent explained. "No company, no guild, no permanent employer. He takes contracts from salvage parties and private individuals."
"And the rest of the time?"
"He goes into the Great Green alone."
Encrid’s eyes lifted from the page. Even the veterans of the Wall’s Far-Watch parties rarely ventured into the Great Green alone. For a young man to do it so regularly, he either had an unusual amount of courage or a dangerous lack of sense.
"Alone?"
"Four or five days out of seven. Often before the regular salvage parties leave."
She turned the page toward herself.
"He hunts for Roamer cores."
That made sense. Cores were valuable enough to make the work tempting, and dangerous enough to make most sensible people avoid it.
"And where does he stay?"
"The Shambles, when he sleeps at all."
Crescent looked back at him.
"He draws no ration, has no roster entry, and holds no official position anywhere inside the Wall."
Encrid leaned back slightly.
"Then how did you find him?"
A faint smile appeared on Crescent’s face.
"Well, that is our specialty."
’Of course,’ Encrid thought, not at all surprised by the vague answer. They were hardly foolish enough to reveal how they gathered their information, after all.
"Where is he now?"
"Outside the Wall."
"Outside?"
"Ninth mile towards the Northern Gate."
Crescent pointed to a small mark on the map beneath the papers, where the entire length of the Wall had been mapped.
The Wall had ten main gates and several smaller ones, usually used by Far-Watch parties and mercenaries entering the Great Green. Crescent was pointing to one of those smaller gates.
"The sally there opens for the salvage parties an hour before dawn. Rael goes through with them."
Encrid nodded.
"And when would he return?"
"Well, he does but not usually with the salvage parties."
Encrid’s eyes narrowed.
"Then how do I find him?"
"Stand on the walk at the ninth mile on a clear morning. Look four hundred paces beyond the last stake line. We can also point you toward where he stays, but he rarely goes there. Most of the time, he sleeps at an inn nearby and leaves for the Great Green again the next morning."
So Encrid would have to wait for Rael to return from his hunt and hope to catch him. He folded the page and slipped it inside his coat.
"Thank you."
Crescent gave a small nod.
But Encrid had one more question which he had been wondering for too long.
"Why had nobody tried to recruit him?"
"They have, my Lord. Two watch commanders tried in the last two years."
"And?"
"He refused them both."
"Why?"
"He didn’t say anything - he just refused them."
Crescent looked at him.
"That is the part I would pay attention to, my lord."
She leaned back slightly.
"Men refuse promotions for reasons, and usually they want you to know what those reasons are. This one refuses and gives nobody anything."
Encrid remained silent.
There was something unusual about that.
Crescent gathered the papers in front of her.
"Now that the commission matter has been taken care of, there is one more matter."
Her voice had changed. It was subtle, but Encrid had spent enough time around careful people lately to notice.
He placed his hand flat on the table.
"What happened?"
Crescent was quiet for a moment.
"The treatment has begun."
Encrid’s expression changed.
"The preparation was completed exactly as you instructed. The regimen was followed to the letter. The Leader read your instructions again and again before having them copied."
Encrid nodded.
"And?"
"The silver has stopped advancing."
He became still.
Crescent’s voice remained calm, almost too calm.
"It has been eleven years since anything we gave her did anything except make her worse."
Encrid listened.
"On the ninth day, the veining stopped moving. On the eleventh, it began to retreat."
"How far?"
"Only a finger’s width."
She looked up at him.
"But it is progress."
Encrid said nothing.
"She has not had a cold sleep since the rite was performed."
For several seconds, Encrid had no response.
"The Leader instructed me to pass on his thanks," Crescent said.
"That isn’t necessary. I just did my part of the deal."
She nodded, then stood.
Encrid watched her. Something about the movement felt deliberate, and he had just enough time to realize what was happening before she walked around the table and stopped in front of him.
Then she bowed.
It was not the shallow, formal bow officers gave nobles. She bent properly at the waist, her hands at her sides, and remained there.
"Madam-"
"I have known him for thirty-one years."
Crescent’s voice came from below.
"He found me on a road when I was nine. He took me with him, and he never asked me for anything in return. Not for six years."
Encrid stopped speaking.
"Everything I can do today is because that man decided I was worth the trouble of teaching."
The room fell silent. Even the two men standing near the wall remained motionless.
"And I watched him spend eleven years going mad."
Her voice remained steady.
"Not loudly. He isn’t a loud man. He simply stopped being able to think about anything else, and then he stopped being able to talk about anything else."
Encrid said nothing.
"There were years when I don’t think he slept at all."
Her voice became quieter, and her hands tightened slightly.
Encrid’s expression changed.
"She is not his daughter to me, my lord."
Crescent finally raised her head.
"She is my sister."
The words were simple, but they carried more weight than anything she had said before.
"But even then, for eleven years, I waited for someone to tell me that she had died because I couldn’t stand watching that man suffer anymore."
Encrid remained silent.
"That worry is gone now."
Crescent straightened and looked directly at him.
"And you are the one who took it away."
She took a breath.
"So permit me this. I don’t know if I can give you anything else that would be worth having, but if you ever need help, the Blue Moon will not hesitate to stand behind you."
Encrid was silent for a moment.
He could have accepted her gratitude, but strangely, he did not want to.
"It was part of the deal," he said.
He would rather keep their relationship official than become entangled in the endless mess of owing and returning favors.
Crescent looked at him.
"My lord-"
"It was part of the deal, and we both completed our parts. Let’s just leave it at that."
Encrid stood and picked up his coat.
"You found my man."
He slipped one arm into the sleeve.
"I gave you the procedure I promised."
He pulled the other sleeve over his arm.
"That settles the account."
Crescent watched him.
"I would like to keep it that way."
Encrid walked toward the stairs, then stopped and looked back at her for a moment.
He said nothing.
Then he turned and walked upstairs, leaving the noise of the tavern to slowly swallow him.
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