silken dress marked him as either a merchant or a noble. A dark bruise colored the left side of his face, and his eye was beginning to swell. He folded his hands in supplication under Garett’s nose as he screwed up his face and shed fat tears. “Tell them it’s a mistake! Don’t let them arrest me! Please!”
A pair of guards wrestled the man back into line.
“Well, at least he didn’t say he was innocent,” muttered the lieutenant behind the desk as he leaned back and looked up at Garett.
Burge continued to watch the poor man with a trace of amusement as the wretch offered a bribe to his guards. “What’d he do?”
The lieutenant set down his stylus and folded his arms behind his head. The arrest line came to a halt. “He beat up one of Quisti’s girls down at the Sea Willow,” came the answer. The lieutenant didn’t bother to hide a smirk. The Sea Willow was one of the finest pleasure houses on the Strip. Quisti, the owner, was renowned throughout the city for the quality of his staff. He hand-picked each girl himself, it was said, and woe to any man who abused one of them.
“My wife will kill me!” the man shrieked suddenly in despair as the guards twisted his arms up behind his back.
The lieutenant gave a sigh and leaned forward again. “What can I do for you, Captain?” he said. “As you can see, we’ve got a busy night down here. Everybody’s celebrating early, you see. Kentellen Mar comes home tomorrow.”
Garett raised an eyebrow at that piece of news. No word had been spoken of it at the Citadel. He glanced at Burge, but his friend was obviously as surprised as he was by the lieutenant’s pronouncement.
“Who told you this?” Garett demanded.
It was one of the prisoners who answered, leaning into the conversation. “Oh, it’s all over the city, it is,” he said, flashing a toothless smile. “Kentellen’s camped just a few miles outside the Duke’s Gate. He’ll be here tomorrow, all right.” His smile widened from ear to ear, revealing withered gums, but there was a twinkle in his merry eyes as he nodded toward the lieutenant. “You can take his word for it, you can, Cap’n.”
“Thanks, Perch,” the lieutenant answered with a wry yawn. To Garett, he explained, “Perch is one of our regulars.”
Garett waved a hand under his nose as he turned away. Perch’s breath was nearly a lethal weapon. But if what he said was true, the celebration in the streets would go on at least until Kentellen Mar entered the city, and not just in the River Quarter, either. It would spread to all the other quarters. The man was immensely popular with the citizens of Greyhawk. More so even than the new mayor.
Garett drew a deep breath, feeling the weight of the city slowly settling onto his shoulders. “Who’s the commanding watch officer, lieutenant?” he repeated again.
The lieutenant stuck out a hand without rising from his chair. “I’m afraid I’m it, sir,” he said. “Soja’s the name.” He shook hands with Garett. As he did so, he called out, “Hey, Graybo! Get over here and take charge of this line. Now, man!”
A heavyset sergeant with a permanent scowl carved into his face ambled wordlessly over and took the lieutenant’s place behind the desk. With a grunt, he picked up the stylus, dipped it in the inkwell, and looked up unpleasantly. The arrest line began to move again.
“Let’s see if we can’t find a little quiet, Captain Starlen,” Soja suggested, indicating a door just to the right of the row of cells. Garett and Burge followed him as he cleared a path through the crowded watch room.
“Hey, you back there!” a guard shouted suddenly. He raked a heavy cudgel along the bars of one cell in a menacing manner, setting up a considerable clatter as the prisoners snatched their fingers clear. “You mess up my floor, an’ I’ll come in there an cut that thing off!”
Soja opened the door to his office and beckoned Garett and Burge inside. When he closed it, the
A pair of guards wrestled the man back into line.
“Well, at least he didn’t say he was innocent,” muttered the lieutenant behind the desk as he leaned back and looked up at Garett.
Burge continued to watch the poor man with a trace of amusement as the wretch offered a bribe to his guards. “What’d he do?”
The lieutenant set down his stylus and folded his arms behind his head. The arrest line came to a halt. “He beat up one of Quisti’s girls down at the Sea Willow,” came the answer. The lieutenant didn’t bother to hide a smirk. The Sea Willow was one of the finest pleasure houses on the Strip. Quisti, the owner, was renowned throughout the city for the quality of his staff. He hand-picked each girl himself, it was said, and woe to any man who abused one of them.
“My wife will kill me!” the man shrieked suddenly in despair as the guards twisted his arms up behind his back.
The lieutenant gave a sigh and leaned forward again. “What can I do for you, Captain?” he said. “As you can see, we’ve got a busy night down here. Everybody’s celebrating early, you see. Kentellen Mar comes home tomorrow.”
Garett raised an eyebrow at that piece of news. No word had been spoken of it at the Citadel. He glanced at Burge, but his friend was obviously as surprised as he was by the lieutenant’s pronouncement.
“Who told you this?” Garett demanded.
It was one of the prisoners who answered, leaning into the conversation. “Oh, it’s all over the city, it is,” he said, flashing a toothless smile. “Kentellen’s camped just a few miles outside the Duke’s Gate. He’ll be here tomorrow, all right.” His smile widened from ear to ear, revealing withered gums, but there was a twinkle in his merry eyes as he nodded toward the lieutenant. “You can take his word for it, you can, Cap’n.”
“Thanks, Perch,” the lieutenant answered with a wry yawn. To Garett, he explained, “Perch is one of our regulars.”
Garett waved a hand under his nose as he turned away. Perch’s breath was nearly a lethal weapon. But if what he said was true, the celebration in the streets would go on at least until Kentellen Mar entered the city, and not just in the River Quarter, either. It would spread to all the other quarters. The man was immensely popular with the citizens of Greyhawk. More so even than the new mayor.
Garett drew a deep breath, feeling the weight of the city slowly settling onto his shoulders. “Who’s the commanding watch officer, lieutenant?” he repeated again.
The lieutenant stuck out a hand without rising from his chair. “I’m afraid I’m it, sir,” he said. “Soja’s the name.” He shook hands with Garett. As he did so, he called out, “Hey, Graybo! Get over here and take charge of this line. Now, man!”
A heavyset sergeant with a permanent scowl carved into his face ambled wordlessly over and took the lieutenant’s place behind the desk. With a grunt, he picked up the stylus, dipped it in the inkwell, and looked up unpleasantly. The arrest line began to move again.
“Let’s see if we can’t find a little quiet, Captain Starlen,” Soja suggested, indicating a door just to the right of the row of cells. Garett and Burge followed him as he cleared a path through the crowded watch room.
“Hey, you back there!” a guard shouted suddenly. He raked a heavy cudgel along the bars of one cell in a menacing manner, setting up a considerable clatter as the prisoners snatched their fingers clear. “You mess up my floor, an’ I’ll come in there an cut that thing off!”
Soja opened the door to his office and beckoned Garett and Burge inside. When he closed it, the
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