Dead Letter (25 page)

Kettna
was of a different generation and to her mind, the Constable’s
position was influenced by past wounds. Jando had made peace with
Calimska after a belligerent and aggressive campaign to cleanse the
sins of the city. The redeemer priests of Jando could not conquer
the Order. Their soldiers could not defeat the Guard or the
warriors who had rallied to defend the city, and now Stoneheart, an
elemental sorcerer unequalled, fortified the mountain pass. There
was no way that Jando would ever raise an army against Calimska
again. Trade was the only way they benefited from Calimska. Jandan
politics could stay over the range. What they did on their side of
the fence was their problem. If they kept civil, Kettna saw no
reason to blame them for every indiscretion in their own
city.

“
I have not forgotten the sacrifices we made, but peace has
been signed between our cities. I won’t blame past stupidities on
Jandan citizens fool enough to get swindled in our
city.”

The
Constable had up to this point been cheerful, but the talk of Jando
had furrowed his brow. “The tea is cold, Inspector. Best you be off
and I will see your proof tomorrow morn.”

“
As you wish,” replied Kettna and gave him a formal bow; half
in apology for dashing his spirits and half in honour of his high
opinion of her that he would care what she thought. “I will get to
the bottom of these crimes and prove I am worth your
effort.”

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

Good
Earner

Elrin’s feet flew
across the back street cobbles, pushing up the hill on his last
errand for Herder Kleith, the Hand of Nathis. The afternoon sun was
as bright as the shine he would be earning, for this was his second
message to the Guildmaster and that meant another silver tab,
tumbling his way. He’d be able to pay the arrears for their
lodgings and maybe sneak a few coppers aside for the future. One
day he’d have enough to set aside for his mother’s care and buy
passage over the Great Dividing Range to make his fortune
adventuring on the Coast like his father did. The frontier was
dangerous, but full of opportunity. If his father was still alive,
and of course he was, that is where he would be. Elrin would find
him and bring him home. Whatever transgression his father hid from,
whatever deed shamed him enough to walk out on his family, would be
forgiven and all would be mended. He was Calimska’s Sentinel. The
people would surely see past his shame. And
if
his father were dead, Elrin would
make a name on his own. Outside Calimska, people didn’t care if you
were a guilder or not. They only cared if you worked hard and Elrin
knew how to do that.

Something had slowed the High Street flow. Wagons and carts
were diverted along the side streets, crowding the narrow ways with
unwelcome bustle. Elrin peeked down a connecting alley and glimpsed
a prison wagon under a heavy escort of guards and the mages he had
helped earlier that morning. They must have solved the mystery of
the dead slumper. It was amazing what magic could do. If enough
mages cared about what happened in the city, they’d get to the
bottom of every crime and have Bloody Agnus in the stocks before
season’s end. This would be perfect news Chelle would buy from him
for a copper. If he ran straight back to the Cog and Wheel after
this last errand, he could get the information to her
first.

The
Guildmaster made his residence in a refurbished squat bastion, snug
beside ivy-covered battlements from an age past. The leader of
Calimska did the business of governing in the most part from here
rather than within the grand chambers of Castle Roost, as other
leaders of Calimska had done. After Daniakesh had flown from the
castle and not returned, there was no reason for the Guildmaster to
reside there as the people’s envoy. He was the people’s Golden
Shield. He wanted to be more accessible to the citizens and in
touch with what the city wanted. Cook joked that if the Guildmaster
honestly wanted to understand what issues were important to the
citizens, he’d have taken up a hovel in the centre of the Cauldron
instead of keeping house along the avenues of mansions in the
richest quarter of the city.

Perhaps
the well-to-do thought Castle Roost was a mere draughty old relic
of the past, with a gaping roof that let the weather in. Elrin
thought it a magical place and would move in quick as a pixie. Not
because his own accommodations were so small, but because of the
history he could explore in the Castle. Dragons hoarded knowledge
as much as they did gold and silver. He could only dream what
ancient books were locked up inside. In any case, Elrin didn’t mind
the Guildmaster settling in the bastion tower, because it made
running his errands that much quicker than if he was at the top of
the hill in the Castle.

The butler, a sombre man with a permanent expression of
distaste, answered the bell. “
You
again. What brings you back?”

“
I have another message for the Guildmaster.”

“
Couriers run messages, nameless do not. You are here on an
errand. Yes?”

“
That’s what I meant to say,” gulped Elrin. He had to be
careful not to suffer a fine from the Courier Guild. They had every
right under guild law to protect their trade. “May I come in to
complete my task?”

The
butler sniffed at the thought. “The Guildmaster is busy. You can
wait in the antechamber until such time as he has a moment
spare.”

Though
the waiting room was furnished with richly upholstered seats and a
tasteful divan that begged to be lounged upon, Elrin was directed
to stand in the far corner of the room beside a stuffed six legged
panther. He assumed it was stuffed. Though, the more he stared at
the great cat, the more remarkably lifelike the preservation was.
It was frozen in a threatening pose, claws out, teeth bared, and
shimmering in a black coat so lustrous it fooled the focus of his
vision.

The
butler rang a small bell and announced in a monotone, “No Name
Errander in attendance.” As with any of Elrin’s visits, the butler
winced as though it pained him to announce one of such low
class.

After
his announcement, the butler retreated up a carpeted staircase and
left Elrin alone in the most interesting building the curious young
man had ever visited. The antechamber opened to a drawing room
filled with exotic curiosities and beside that was the
Guildmaster’s office. Once the butler had climbed the stairs, Elrin
snuck into the drawing room to examine the strange artefacts and
totems locked behind glass. An onyx black dragon scale as big as a
shield was inscribed with silvery arcane symbols that made the hair
on the back of his neck stand up. In another cabinet was an
insect-like mechanism of cogs and gears snug in a shell with thin
metal legs stuck in the air like a dead roach. Another cabinet was
warm to the touch, and inside rested an anvil, smaller than any fit
for a human smith. From cabinet to case he went, staring in wonder
at the Guildmaster’s collection, ever drawing nearer his favourite
piece. The beautiful dagger rested outside a glass case on a low
table next to the double doors of the Guildmaster’s
office.

Elrin
reached for it. Before his fingers touched the hilt, the butler
cleared his throat as if a toad were lodged in it and waved him out
of the drawing room. “I told you to wait in the antechamber,”
whispered the butler, his brow so furrowed there was room to plant
beans. “The drawing room is no place for your sticky fingers and if
I catch you in there again without the master’s approval, you will
be out on your ear and the message be damned!”

“
The errand,” corrected Elrin. “Couriers run
messages.”

The
butler’s face coloured like a ripe tomato and he raised his hand to
strike Elrin for such insolence. Elrin braced for a cuff upside his
head, but it never came. The ring of a bell from the Guildmaster’s
office stayed the butler’s hand. “You, hold there,” he demanded,
preparing a tray with a coloured glass and silver carafe. With the
grace of a dancer, the butler delivered the tray through to the
Guildmaster and on his return, stood at the opposite end of the
antechamber, ensuring Elrin did not sneak into the drawing room
again.

Another
bell rang, this time with a higher note. Elrin raised his eyes from
the tiles to see if it was the one for him. The butler frowned in
answer and sauntering back to the office, returning with the tray.
How the man knew what each bell was for was a mystery. Elrin
wondered what penalty would be given should the butler serve water
when a bell for coffee was rung. Elrin waited, smiling at the idea
of the butler on the receiving end of a scolding. Elrin fidgeted.
There was so much else he should be doing. He couldn’t decide what
was worse; sweltering in the stagnant air under the hot gaze of a
grumpy butler, or enduring the sheer boredom of standing in one
spot doing nothing. He wished to be relaxing on the divan with a
good book in his hand. A short while later, a bell rang again, this
one the same as the first, but longer in the ringing. The butler
wasted no time, striding over to Elrin and hurrying him through the
drawing room and into the Guildmaster’s office.

Elrin
presented the now somewhat limp message and bowed to the leader and
protector of Calimska. The Guildmaster looked it over, noting its
inferior condition. “This sweat will not do, Elrin. How can I pay
full price for a job done badly?”

“
I apologise, Guildmaster. The day is hot and I was waiting
for someti—”

“
Excuses don’t get the work done. The sooner you learn that,
the better. One must do one’s best to earn, especially in your
circumstances. You have your mother to consider.” From a neat case
of newly minted Calimskan tabs, the Guildmaster ignored the hundred
or so gold and silver pieces and selected a single copper for
payment. “This might seem mean spirited to you. But it’s for your
own good. Make sure that the next message is without your fluids
making the ink run.”

“
Yes, sir. I’m grateful for the lesson and I won’t forget it.”
Elrin knew that appeasing the Guildmaster was the quickest avenue
away from further lectures and more time wasted.

The
Guildmaster cracked the black wax seal and frowned at Elrin. “Off
you trot, boy. I don’t need an audience for private
correspondence.”

Elrin
gave his best formal bow to show his respect and took his leave. On
the way out of the office doorway, Elrin drank in the beauty of the
lonely dagger on the table by the doorway, wishing he could take it
with him. Such a beautiful thing left aside was a terrible
waste.

The
Guildmaster called out, startling Elrin from his imaginings. “Hold
there, Elrin! Wait one more moment, would you? I have another quick
message for you to run. Now, don’t get those sweaty hands on the
glass while you are ogling. Butler Latchen works hard to keep my
precious things in order, so best you don’t add undue work to his
schedule.”

Elrin
drooped at the thought of running another errand. The handsome
dagger beckoned him to pick it up, just for a quick look. After
all, Butler Latchen left it out of the display cabinets. Elrin
would be doing a service to pick it up and let him know it wasn’t
secure. The butler’s grumpy face assured him otherwise. The dagger
was so interesting though and the urge to hold it tugged at his
palm, against his better judgement. While the Guildmaster wrote a
new message, Butler Latchen stared Elrin into submission from the
antechamber. Elrin wouldn’t dare touch it and risk the ire of The
Guildmaster or his butler. At least, not while they were
watching.

The
Guildmaster left his desk and handed Elrin another black seal
message. “Take this down to the warehouses by Salt Gate. You need
to find number nine. It’s right back beside the outer wall. Once
there you’ll find some traders of specialty goods. Personally hand
this to Runner Rix, no one else. Clear?”

That was
the name of the Inspector’s friend. “Pardon my concern,
Guildmaster. Is he a guilded runner? I would sink into awful strife
for taking work that is rightfully for the Courier
Guild.”

“
Nonsense. I’ll handle the Courier Guild, if any complaint
comes against you.”

“
I’m not sure I should. If I run this to a courier …” Elrin
hesitated, wondering if a beating was worth the Guildmaster’s good
will.

“
There’s a silver in it for you. Now don’t disappoint your
mother. Be a good earner and get going as fast as you
can.”

That was
the motivation he required. A tab of silver and the assurance of
the Guildmaster saw him out the door and down to the Salt Gate
district.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

Hero for a Silver

Salt
Gate grew from the labours of the lake miners, hauling the mineral
wealth of the western plains. Prospectors leased segments of the
salt lakes and sold the valuable crystals to Calimskan traders. The
pink salts were renowned across the continent for their healing
properties and the Calimska had made it a cornerstone of the city’s
trading success. Salt Gate Market was busiest in the afternoon when
the miners carted in a day’s work. With the Calimskan alchemy of
trade, a bag of pink in their cart would turn into a fist full of
shine. Men and women haggled and measured and tasted and tested,
everyone trying to squeeze the best price. Elrin skirted the edge
of the market and followed the street running parallel to the outer
wall. Warehouse Nine was at the very end of the street where the
wall terminated into the steep rock face at the foot of the
mountain Calimska saddled. No one had ever named the hill; it had
been strangled and assimilated into history as being one and the
same as the city. All things were Calimska.