murmured, "was I a betting man, an' I been known to
lay one down now an' then, I'd put money on that fellow being Ferris
Renfrow's ugly twin."
"Maybe his evil twin?"
"I'd say Renfrow is the evil twin. Interesting, though. You think
he's involved?"
"My guess? Only obliquely, if at all." Ferris Renfrow and his
masters in the Grail Empire had no cause to murder the Patriarch's
Captain-General. "I'd guess it's coincidental. This would be a natural
gathering place for conspirators."
Ferris Renfrow did as they did. Sat in the shadows and watched.
Hecht and Ghort picked out three men they felt deserved closer
scrutiny.
Time rolled on. And on. Ghort muttered, "I wish that asshole would
give up and go to bed. It was a long fuckin' day. I need some shut-eye."
"Uhm." Renfrow seemed to be paying them no heed. Hecht did not
believe he was unaware of them. Their shadows were deeper than his,
though.
Hecht began to feel the weariness, too.
"What're you doing, Pipe?"
"Going to see what he does when he recognizes me."
"Is that smart?"
Hecht shrugged. He crossed the room, stepping over and around
sleeping men and men who had enjoyed too much of the heavy, dark, foul
beer brewed by the Knight of Wands. Renfrow appeared disinterested at
first, then started and swore, "Eis's bloody ass boils! What the hell
are you doing here?"
Hecht settled beside the Imperial. "The very question I asked myself
about you."
"I'm here on my lord's business."
"And I as well. With an added touch of the personal."
Renfrow contained his shock. "You're outside your home territories."
"Outside the Emperor's, too. Might be Sonsan."
"The Counts of Aloya, theoretically. But they haven't been seen
since you and I were pups. Nobody's moved in because that would be more
trouble than leaving the territory to rot."
Which would lead to banditry and chaos, eventually. Of course.
"I've had a long day. I just wanted you to know I'm here." Hecht
headed for his quarters before Renfrow could respond. Ghort stayed
where he was.
"He left right after you did," Ghort reported. "He looked like he'd had
a major shock. I don't think he recognized me."
"I wouldn't count on it. Who's always around when I'm somewhere?"
"Go teach granny to suck eggs. Put the kids on him. He won't expect
them."
Hecht nodded. "Warn them. So he doesn't see the connection right
away."
Ferris Renfrow did not turn up next morning. Hecht asked a few
questions but soon stopped. Questions about fellow guests were not well
received. He assumed questions about himself would find equally small
favor.
Renfrow did not reappear till the ownership opened the evening pot.
Prepared meals could be had any time but cost extra. Budget-minded
guests lived out of the bottomless porridge and goulash pots. The
ingredients of the latter varied according to what leftovers from
custom cookery were available. One had to beware small bones.
Renfrow drew a portion and retreated into the same shadows as the
night before.
Hecht had assumed his place in his own dark clot a half hour
earlier. His day had been unproductive. The children had discovered
nothing—though they did feed his suspicions of the men he and Ghort
had tagged as probable villains. They were from farther north or west,
by their accents. They had horses stabled behind the inn. The stable
boys had been paid to keep their tack ready for instant use. They
prayed a lot. Pella considered that the most damning thing about them.
Hecht told Pella to arrange for some of that tack to disappear.
The suspects did not seem unusually wary.
Sometime during their second morning there the Knight of Wands began
to buzz. A Grolsacher mercenary force, supposedly armed with letters of
marque from Sublime V, had come to a bad end in the Connec. Only a
handful survived—by running faster than Count Raymone Garete could
chase. One survivor was a dastardly coward of a bishop, Morcant Farfog
of Strang. The band's captain, Haiden Backe, had been among the first
to fall.
lay one down now an' then, I'd put money on that fellow being Ferris
Renfrow's ugly twin."
"Maybe his evil twin?"
"I'd say Renfrow is the evil twin. Interesting, though. You think
he's involved?"
"My guess? Only obliquely, if at all." Ferris Renfrow and his
masters in the Grail Empire had no cause to murder the Patriarch's
Captain-General. "I'd guess it's coincidental. This would be a natural
gathering place for conspirators."
Ferris Renfrow did as they did. Sat in the shadows and watched.
Hecht and Ghort picked out three men they felt deserved closer
scrutiny.
Time rolled on. And on. Ghort muttered, "I wish that asshole would
give up and go to bed. It was a long fuckin' day. I need some shut-eye."
"Uhm." Renfrow seemed to be paying them no heed. Hecht did not
believe he was unaware of them. Their shadows were deeper than his,
though.
Hecht began to feel the weariness, too.
"What're you doing, Pipe?"
"Going to see what he does when he recognizes me."
"Is that smart?"
Hecht shrugged. He crossed the room, stepping over and around
sleeping men and men who had enjoyed too much of the heavy, dark, foul
beer brewed by the Knight of Wands. Renfrow appeared disinterested at
first, then started and swore, "Eis's bloody ass boils! What the hell
are you doing here?"
Hecht settled beside the Imperial. "The very question I asked myself
about you."
"I'm here on my lord's business."
"And I as well. With an added touch of the personal."
Renfrow contained his shock. "You're outside your home territories."
"Outside the Emperor's, too. Might be Sonsan."
"The Counts of Aloya, theoretically. But they haven't been seen
since you and I were pups. Nobody's moved in because that would be more
trouble than leaving the territory to rot."
Which would lead to banditry and chaos, eventually. Of course.
"I've had a long day. I just wanted you to know I'm here." Hecht
headed for his quarters before Renfrow could respond. Ghort stayed
where he was.
"He left right after you did," Ghort reported. "He looked like he'd had
a major shock. I don't think he recognized me."
"I wouldn't count on it. Who's always around when I'm somewhere?"
"Go teach granny to suck eggs. Put the kids on him. He won't expect
them."
Hecht nodded. "Warn them. So he doesn't see the connection right
away."
Ferris Renfrow did not turn up next morning. Hecht asked a few
questions but soon stopped. Questions about fellow guests were not well
received. He assumed questions about himself would find equally small
favor.
Renfrow did not reappear till the ownership opened the evening pot.
Prepared meals could be had any time but cost extra. Budget-minded
guests lived out of the bottomless porridge and goulash pots. The
ingredients of the latter varied according to what leftovers from
custom cookery were available. One had to beware small bones.
Renfrow drew a portion and retreated into the same shadows as the
night before.
Hecht had assumed his place in his own dark clot a half hour
earlier. His day had been unproductive. The children had discovered
nothing—though they did feed his suspicions of the men he and Ghort
had tagged as probable villains. They were from farther north or west,
by their accents. They had horses stabled behind the inn. The stable
boys had been paid to keep their tack ready for instant use. They
prayed a lot. Pella considered that the most damning thing about them.
Hecht told Pella to arrange for some of that tack to disappear.
The suspects did not seem unusually wary.
Sometime during their second morning there the Knight of Wands began
to buzz. A Grolsacher mercenary force, supposedly armed with letters of
marque from Sublime V, had come to a bad end in the Connec. Only a
handful survived—by running faster than Count Raymone Garete could
chase. One survivor was a dastardly coward of a bishop, Morcant Farfog
of Strang. The band's captain, Haiden Backe, had been among the first
to fall.
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