a
twinge of remorse, she made a small alteration to her plan. She took some coins
from her handbag. “Here is a thousand eckles,” she told Abbiley, having no idea
how much portraits cost and guessing that it ought to be enough. “Have the
finished work sent to Davin Chartler, care of the palace in Golis. Paint Kyrus
as you remember him, not as you have discovered him to be.”
Soria was sweating and dizzy when she left the studio. She
had never expected the girl to have any useful information about Kyrus
Hinterdale’s whereabouts, but once she had learned that Kyrus had courted her,
Soria had to meet her.
You obviously learned some things from my Brannis, Mr.
Hinterdale; you are not figuring out magic all on your own, I would wager. You
also obviously have a lot left to learn from him, though, if that girl
was the best you could find here.
Chapter 6 - Unfettered
“You sure you oughtta be doing that?” Tod asked, a note of
concern in his voice as he peered over his companion’s shoulder.
“You gotta listen close, I think. He says what he means,
real exact like,” Jodoul replied, twisting a thin metal rod into the end of the
little lock. “He gave us the coffer and said there was thirty lions in it. We
find the goblet, we get it back, he says. ‘I do not care how; just do what you
need to do.’” Jodoul mimicked the warlock’s voice as best he could. “We gotta
get our goal, see, and he won’t care what we did.”
“I don’t think that meant breakin’ his coffer,” Tod said.
“What’s a coffer? Bit o’ wood and iron. He wants that goblet
what got stole from the cupboards where they keep the fancy stuff for them
feasts. I’m getting the idea that Warlock Rashan ain’t the sort to muck about
on small stuff like a broken coffer. Besides, how we gonna spend the thirty
lions finding it if it’s locked up inside? We ain’t even counted it.”
“I’m pretty sure gold goblets is small stuff when you’re
emperor,” Tod said, attempting to bring some perspective to the conversation.
“And how you figure he might short us on just thirty lions? Prob’ly got himself
a whole cellar full o’ little coffers like that, filled with lions.”
“He ain’t emperor, he’s regent,” Jodoul said, breaking out
in a grin as the lock gave way and the coffer popped open. The coffer contained
thirty gold lions, just as promised. “Let’s go buy us some answers.”
The two spent a good portion of the day talking to old
acquaintances of the less savory variety. Few men got conscripted into the army
if they had a stable trade and enough coin to do all their business in the
marketplace. Neither Tod nor Jodoul had been much for apprenticeships or day
labor. Tod was from Naran Port originally, and had earned much of his coin at
dice and reselling “lost” valuables at a small profit. Jodoul was from Kadris,
and used to run errands for the sort of ruffians that thought they had elevated
themselves above the less “sophisticated” class of scum. That was before a
misplaced delivery had run him afoul of his former employers, and he sought
refuge in the spear-and-mail of the Imperial Army as a volunteer; the army
never frowned on willing conscripts.
Most folk who had known either of the two had been
well-enough informed to know that they were working for the warlock, so getting
anyone to talk candidly ate into their supply of the warlock’s lions rapidly.
They spoke of old times and common friends, inquired after the health of
relatives and offered condolences when hearing of former comrades who had not
survived their last job. When the subject turned to practical matters, suddenly
a man who had once known where half the goods in the city were heading would
not so much as admit to seeing the sun yesterday—“The sun? Never seen it. You
got the wrong guy.” It was not that Tod and Jodoul were armed. Their short
swords and daggers would avail them little if anyone really wanted them brought
to harm. It was
twinge of remorse, she made a small alteration to her plan. She took some coins
from her handbag. “Here is a thousand eckles,” she told Abbiley, having no idea
how much portraits cost and guessing that it ought to be enough. “Have the
finished work sent to Davin Chartler, care of the palace in Golis. Paint Kyrus
as you remember him, not as you have discovered him to be.”
Soria was sweating and dizzy when she left the studio. She
had never expected the girl to have any useful information about Kyrus
Hinterdale’s whereabouts, but once she had learned that Kyrus had courted her,
Soria had to meet her.
You obviously learned some things from my Brannis, Mr.
Hinterdale; you are not figuring out magic all on your own, I would wager. You
also obviously have a lot left to learn from him, though, if that girl
was the best you could find here.
Chapter 6 - Unfettered
“You sure you oughtta be doing that?” Tod asked, a note of
concern in his voice as he peered over his companion’s shoulder.
“You gotta listen close, I think. He says what he means,
real exact like,” Jodoul replied, twisting a thin metal rod into the end of the
little lock. “He gave us the coffer and said there was thirty lions in it. We
find the goblet, we get it back, he says. ‘I do not care how; just do what you
need to do.’” Jodoul mimicked the warlock’s voice as best he could. “We gotta
get our goal, see, and he won’t care what we did.”
“I don’t think that meant breakin’ his coffer,” Tod said.
“What’s a coffer? Bit o’ wood and iron. He wants that goblet
what got stole from the cupboards where they keep the fancy stuff for them
feasts. I’m getting the idea that Warlock Rashan ain’t the sort to muck about
on small stuff like a broken coffer. Besides, how we gonna spend the thirty
lions finding it if it’s locked up inside? We ain’t even counted it.”
“I’m pretty sure gold goblets is small stuff when you’re
emperor,” Tod said, attempting to bring some perspective to the conversation.
“And how you figure he might short us on just thirty lions? Prob’ly got himself
a whole cellar full o’ little coffers like that, filled with lions.”
“He ain’t emperor, he’s regent,” Jodoul said, breaking out
in a grin as the lock gave way and the coffer popped open. The coffer contained
thirty gold lions, just as promised. “Let’s go buy us some answers.”
The two spent a good portion of the day talking to old
acquaintances of the less savory variety. Few men got conscripted into the army
if they had a stable trade and enough coin to do all their business in the
marketplace. Neither Tod nor Jodoul had been much for apprenticeships or day
labor. Tod was from Naran Port originally, and had earned much of his coin at
dice and reselling “lost” valuables at a small profit. Jodoul was from Kadris,
and used to run errands for the sort of ruffians that thought they had elevated
themselves above the less “sophisticated” class of scum. That was before a
misplaced delivery had run him afoul of his former employers, and he sought
refuge in the spear-and-mail of the Imperial Army as a volunteer; the army
never frowned on willing conscripts.
Most folk who had known either of the two had been
well-enough informed to know that they were working for the warlock, so getting
anyone to talk candidly ate into their supply of the warlock’s lions rapidly.
They spoke of old times and common friends, inquired after the health of
relatives and offered condolences when hearing of former comrades who had not
survived their last job. When the subject turned to practical matters, suddenly
a man who had once known where half the goods in the city were heading would
not so much as admit to seeing the sun yesterday—“The sun? Never seen it. You
got the wrong guy.” It was not that Tod and Jodoul were armed. Their short
swords and daggers would avail them little if anyone really wanted them brought
to harm. It was
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