Chapter 4
Daggers on the tables
TWO KNOCKS BOUNCED AROUND THE room. Opening one eye brought sharp pain from the too-bright sun shining in the half-open shutters. Closing his eyes, Lebuin rolled over, pulling one of the soft down pillows over his head. The coolness of the cream silk cover felt good. Two knocks again. Maybe whoever it is will give up and go away. Waiting for the expected knocks was dragging his mind out of the unconsciousness of sleep. The previous day’s events rolled around his head.
Oh Lord, what am I going to do? I have no idea what to do next. I have to leave, but, for what? Concentrating, Lebuin tried to pull back any memories of what the teachers might have said about Journeyman requirements. Nothing was coming up. The effort brought him fully awake. Why did no one mention this? Or was this something else everyone thought I knew so no one told me? Too many questions, not enough answers. The bed was comfortable, the silk sheets resting on his skin, and it was warm. Closing his eyes he started to drift off back to sleep.
Two knocks bounced around the room. Dang it, I don’t have classes, go away. He waited, remembering Magus Cune’s evil smirk as he walked away after the ceremony. The ceremony, that incantation with my creation was unexpected. It linked us somehow. Remembering the feeling as the link was established, his training took over and he broke the memory down, recalling the precise feelings of the power and its interactions with his physical and mental bodies. With the interactions recalled he examined himself mentally and found the connection. A slim thread of a channel was present where none had been before. The incantation had imprinted on him just as if he had been an artifact.
Curiously he fed a little power from his core into the channel. A new awareness was added to his list of senses. Interesting, I can feel every Magi around. Playing with the new sense he realized there were slight flavors or colors or scents to each feeling. Ah; I bet I can tell who is who if I pay enough attention to this and keep it active. Deciding to refer to the variations in the sense as ‘scents’, Lebuin adjusted his mental state adding this new channel to the incantations he maintained continuously. Now I just need to pay careful attention when I meet each Magus to learn their scent.
Two more knocks bounced around the room. Groaning, he sat up. “Who is it? I was asleep.”
“Journeyman Lebuin, please, your breakfast.”
Breakfast? I didn’t order any food. I thought it was another Mage. Reaching out with his mind he released the inner locks on the door. An immaculately dressed servant smoothly opened the door while balancing the tray of food. He is certainly well dressed. He looks quite respectable in the Guild uniform. Looking a little closer, he thought, And that is a very tidy uniform. Closing the door behind him the servant moved to the side table and put the tray down. Handing Lebuin a cup of dark fluid he said, “Sorry it isn’t hot anymore. I have been circling for a mark waiting for you to answer the door.”
“I can warm it up.” Looking at the cold cup of arit Lebuin used a little magic to warm it. Circling for a mark? That doesn’t make any sense. I know I am not fully awake yet. He looked at the servant. “My Lord, Ditani, what are you doing here? I don’t recall seeing you for more than a year.”
Ditani smiled. “At least you remember me. Gezu wasn’t sure if you’d ever remember a servant.”
Lebuin’s back stiffened at the snide comment, the familiar use of Magus Gezu’s name, and the easy, familiar way Ditani spoke to him. “I can have you dismissed for that comment.”
Chuckling nervously, which made Lebuin even more irate, Ditani made a painful-looking smirk. “Wouldn’t it be most difficult to dismiss someone who doesn’t work for you?”
The majority of his conscious thoughts stopped on that comment. Taking a deep drink from the hot arit to give himself time to recover, Lebuin’s memory recalled Magus Cune’s last statement. ‘I placed a rather large bet you could complete the quest with a less-than-upstanding but influential friend of mine.’ Looking at the now-empty cup of arit, panic struck him. Lord, did I just drink poison? Would he strike me so fast, and in the Guild itself? Looking at Ditani closer, he saw what he had registered nearly unconsciously earlier — the uniform was immaculate. It had been carefully maintained in pristine condition. Further it fit Ditani extremely well, far better than most servants’ uniforms fit. Servant uniforms being standard, the Guild simply bought them in quantity in various sizes and the servants could pick and choose the closest fit. They rarely took the time to correct the fit. Ditani’s uniform had none of the normal signs of wear or stains. Obviously not new, it had been precisely tailored to Ditani’s form some time ago. Would an assassin take the time to tailor a uniform?
Ditani simply stood watching Lebuin. He doesn’t look malevolent. In fact he looks worried. Lebuin felt more awake as the arit flowed into his system. Ditani’s eyes had deep bags as if he had not had much, if any, sleep. His complexion was also far whiter than would be normal, especially for a Karkaian. No, he isn’t an assassin; in fact he is scared and worried about something. He dresses well and takes care of his clothes. Maybe I can help. “Well if you aren’t a Guild servant, then you might as well sit down and tell me why you are here.”
Ditani looked timidly around and Lebuin helped him decide by pointing at a chair which slid a few feet to Ditani. Sitting, he looked pleadingly at Lebuin; then like a cork popping from a bottle of chantrose, he burst out, “I don’t know who to trust. I am not even sure if anything is wrong. He has only been missing since yesterday morning. Still he said he’d meet me and he didn’t. Then he didn’t make the appointment. When I checked the room he wasn’t there. I had to seek help. So I came here. I don’t know why, but I stopped at my cousin’s place to get one of my old uniforms. When I got here everyone was talking about how you had nearly killed Magus Cune and were going to advance. I wanted to talk to Varni to get help. But she has been dead since just after I left with Gezu’s last letter. Dead — first Gezu, then Varni is dead. It can’t be coincidence. I found Magus Crawstu, but she was talking to Magus Cune and I heard them say that with Magus Gezu dead there was none left to shelter you, leaving you in the dark. I fled and then I didn’t know who to trust. But, I remembered Gezu and Varni saying they liked you. They had to, what with the notes and all. With your new status I thought maybe you might be able to help. But then the ceremony was announced and Councilor Nillo ordered me to fetch you in the hall. Me, he just stopped me in the hall and asked. Can you believe that? He didn’t even notice who I was or that I had been gone. After that I couldn’t get you alone...”
“Whoa, stop. Calm down, Ditani.” Looking at the tray, Lebuin selected a glass of juice and carefully floated it over to Ditani, who just looked at it apprehensively. “Here, drink this slowly and relax a little. I need to get dressed and then we’ll go through all of that again, except slower, and with more detail.”
Nodding, Ditani plucked the glass out of the air with a small grateful smile and a slightly shaking hand. He sipped some of the juice and sat quietly, tensely watching as Lebuin stood up and stretched. He is spinning faster than a top. Looking at Ditani, he smiled widely. Just give him a few minutes to calm down. He must have been thinking he’d get murdered for sneaking in here. Stretching again, he moved to the two armoires and opened them wide. Grabbing his brushes, he stepped to the basin and poured some water into it. He didn’t bother warming it up, letting the fresh cold water help rinse the remaining cobwebs from his mind. Glancing at Ditani, he thought, I’d better do a rush job, but not too fast; he looks like he is starting to unwind a little. Tilting the shaving mirror, he cleaned his teeth, brushed his hair, trimmed his beard, and corrected his bangs. He examined his various outfits. I need to look dignified, but not too formal. I have to go shopping. His eyes selected a beautiful pair of grey trousers. Slipping into them, he pulled out a comfortable maroon silk shirt with silver embroidery, loose sleeves, and long stiff cuffs. Over that he slipped on a sleeveless doublet of brushed suede, dyed a forest green with gold and silver geometric patterns embroidered tastefully along the center line. To this he added a belt, into which he slipped his utility knife and small pouch before securing it in a looped fashion.
Selecting complementary tall riding boots, he slipped into them and arranged his trousers artfully for best effect. Finally he put everything away exactly where it belonged and took the light gray samite and ermine cloak from the hanger. Putting on the cloak and fastening it with the artifact from his trial, he watched as the incantations began their work on his clothing. He smiled as he watched small bits of dust falling to the floor in the sunlight. Turning, he admired the results in the mirror. I still look like a well-dressed skeleton. But at least a good night sleep has removed the haunted look from my eyes.
Feeling completely comfortable and clean, he closed the armoires, stepping over and looking at Ditani. Ditani was still tense but had shifted to a more comfortable position and had drunk most of the juice. Good, at least he looks a little more relaxed now. But he needs some sleep. He’s about to drop. Not sure why he cared so much, he sat down on the edge of his bed. “You look a little better. Why don’t you eat…” Realizing belatedly that it would make Ditani nervous to eat in front of a mage, he decided to adjust course. “I mean, please join me in finishing off these biscuits and fruit you were kind enough to bring.” To emphasize the point, he flexed his always-active telekinetic incantation to bring the side table with the tray to sit between them. Reaching out, he took an apple from the top and bit into it. Ditani took another apple but instead of biting it he held it in his slightly shaking hands for a few minutes, looking a little out of place. Lebuin shifted to a more comfortable pose. “You mentioned someone was missing. Who exactly is missing?”
Ditani looked at him as if he had missed some vital clue. Then he sighed, “Magus Vestul is missing. We came here to meet with a Duke. I am not sure which one. Magus Vestul only called him ‘Duke’ when he talked about him or sent him messages.”
Nodding to encourage Ditani to keep going, he took another bite. Ditani bit into the apple and chewed slowly. He swallowed. “Magus Vestul sent me out to get a special gift for this Duke. Apparently he has a taste for very old sharre.”
Interesting and expensive. Aged sharre is difficult to find. “Did you get the sharre?” he encouraged.
Ditani nodded. “Yes, we had ordered it weeks ago, before coming here. He was supposed to meet me at the inn but he never came. I went up to our room, but without the key I can’t open the door. I knocked and knocked with no answer. When the time for the meeting came I went, expecting to find Magus Vestul there.” Taking another bite, Ditani chewed and swallowed. “At the Duke’s residence I wasn’t allowed to meet the Duke. I offered my apologies on behalf of Magus Vestul and delivered the gift. I was fed an excellent early dinner, alone. When Magus Vestul still had not come, I was escorted out and asked to help try to find him. So I went everywhere I could think of, but no one had any knowledge of where he could be. No one had seen him since the day before.”
Nodding, he took a few nuts from the plate and popped them in his mouth, savoring the flavor a little. “Then you came here to see if any Magi had seen him?”
Ditani nodded. “Magus Vestul missing the meeting has me very worried for him, and a little worried that he was doing something dangerous. I felt I should try to be nondescript. So I went and got one of my old uniforms to blend in a little. When I got here I found out Varni was dead. Vestul had asked me to help Gezu and Varni for a time, but when Gezu died Varni stopped their work and sent me back to Magus Vestul with their notes. Vestul had planned on stopping to see Varni while back in Llino, so he didn’t know she was dead. To discover Varni dead was too much. Then I got pulled into your ceremony.”
“Magus,” he emphasized the word, “Gezu died of a heart failure in his sleep, and Magus Varni died a little later, also of heart failure. There was nothing anyone could do by the time either was found. They were both very old and their deaths were not suspicious.”
“I would accept that if Magus Vestul wasn’t missing.” Ditani straightened slightly and looked pleadingly at him.
If I help him I might be able to coax him into my service. He obviously knows how to dress well, he is experienced with mages, and I bet he knows things that will be helpful. “Well, I can do anything I want now, and Magus Vestul would certainly have some good ideas for my Journeyman quest. I need to speak with the councilor first, then I will help you look.”
Ditani practically leapt over the table to clasp Lebuin’s arms. Tears were showing in the corners of his eyes. “Thank you, Master Lebuin, thank you. I really need your help. I don’t know what to do.”
Standing up awkwardly, Lebuin grasped Ditani’s arms in his hands too. Giving his best warm smile, he said, “You’re welcome. I’ll be back. In the meantime you can stay here and rest.” He pointed at his bed. “In fact, why don’t you lie down and take a nap while I attend to my meeting. Then we’ll go out and see if we can’t find Magus Vestul together.” He really is scared. Is it that dangerous outside these walls?
Locking the door behind him, Lebuin moved through the halls towards the main offices. When he arrived a secretary nodded to him from behind a neat and tidy desk. His shirt, however, was a little crumpled around the neck and the elbows were wearing thin. You really shouldn’t wear the same shirt so frequently. Heavens, you look like a poor person, and I know you get paid well.
Indicating the open doorway beyond his desk, he said, “Journeyman Lebuin, thank you for coming. Magus Nillo asked me to send you in as soon as you came by.”
Stepping around the desk, he smiled at the secretary. “Thank you.”
He stopped in the doorway and peeked in. The office was lined with shelves, every one filled to brimming with folders, books, and assorted collectables. A table with three old beaten-up chairs sat by the doorway next to a chalkboard that was so clean it might never have been used. Opposite the doorway sat a rather large desk in the shape of a large ‘L’. The desk was as tidy as the secretary’s, with a number of stacks of papers each held down with a collectable statue or split geode.
On one corner of the desk near the tip of the ‘L’ there was an unusual hollow device made of gold, silver, and numerous gems. It was shaped like an oversized egg and made entirely of a loose weave of gold and silver. It had an organic feel and the gems cut as the leaves of the twisted vines. The center of it was an area in the shape of a perfect sphere. It rested on a simple wooden base. Every time I ask about that, he avoids the question. Maybe now I can find out what it is.
Seated in an oversized stuffed leather chair behind the desk was the bear of a man who ran the entire Guild from this office. Councilor Nillo stood at least six inches taller than anyone else Lebuin had ever seen. Although bald on top, he had nearly a lion’s mane of silver hair, which he kept a medium length and which stood straight out from his head, almost giving him a halo. His beard was a dark black, in complete contrast to his hair, and he kept it in a sharp, perfect goatee. Today he was wearing a tired grey robe over a new white linen shirt. Looking up from the papers he was reading, he smiled, and his deep voice was surprisingly soft and melodic. “Ah, Journeyman Lebuin. You are up earlier than I expected.” Smiling wide and showing a set of sharp, white teeth, he pointed at a chair. “Please, sit down.”
Lebuin moved to the chair and sat down. At the same time, Councilor Nillo stood up and pulled something from a high shelf. Sitting back down, the councilor produced two crystal glasses. In his hand the bottle of sharre looked like a toy. He poured two half-glasses and then resealed the bottle, putting it aside on his desk. Handing a glass to Lebuin, he held his up. “To the rather impressive end of one life and the beginning of a new one. May you serve Argos well.”
Lebuin smiled. “Thank you, Councilor.” He took his glass up, clinked it with the Councilor’s and took a mouthful. The strongest, warmest sensation he had ever experienced nearly caused him to sputter. Warmth spread through his whole body faster than he thought possible. All the minor aches from the week’s trials vanished at the same time and he completely stopped caring that the highest Councilor the Guild was dressed like a sheep herder.
Shaking his head, he looked at the Councilor, who was smiling the happy smile of a trickster. “How old is this?”
Councilor Nillo examined the bottle for a time. “I recall that this particular bottle was in my predecessor’s storage. I would imagine it is likely at least a hundred years old. It doesn’t yet have the feel of the good two-hundred-and-fifty bottle I shared with Prince Mory.”
Even with the calming effects of the sharre Lebuin gasped. “One hundred year-old sharre — that has to be worth ten crowns!”
Without flinching, he said, “More likely twelve or thirteen.” His smile widened dramatically. “Per glass. Nice, isn’t it?”
“Nice doesn’t begin to describe it.” In spite of himself he took another drink. His tired channels filled with energy, and he felt as if he had just finished a week in a health retreat eating good food, resting, bathing, and being massaged until every ache was gone and all tiredness removed. “If this is what one hundred year-old sharre is like I can see why it is so expensive and hard to find.”
“It has been said that five hundred year-old sharre can restore youth.” A little twinkle in his eye showed he didn’t believe it himself. “Keeping it that long in the right conditions would be tricky, if not impossible.”
Another mouthful of the amazing liquor brought more feelings of well-being and confidence. “Councilor, I never thought I’d have to leave this place. I knew journeymen were to do research into various magics — in fact I was looking forward to spending my time in the labs and library doing just that. Why do I have to leave?”
He leaned back in his chair, and the door behind Lebuin closed softly. “Lebuin, I know you never once came to a Journeyman ceremony. I also know you labored under the idea of staying within these walls your whole career. You had to be kept here through your youth because of what you are. However, that also cut you off from your peers, and sadly it seems most of the world. You might make an amazing scholar someday. However, Argos himself insists that all his Magi spend a significant amount of time in the field. It is important to know the world and people whom we live to protect. This is why the rank of Journeyman is required and it is not just a name,” the Magus leveled a finger at him, “it is a description of the requirements of the rank which you agreed to last night. You are to be the eyes and ears of the Guild and Argos in the world.”
“So I am just kicked out until I find something new?”
“Oh no, you are not kicked out, you are only required to journey most of the time. Your research must be out there,” he said, waving at the window. “It takes years of work as a Journeyman to achieve enough experiences to advance to the rank of Magus. Contribution to the Guild in the form of new knowledge, be it magical or mundane, is just a side effect of your own experience.” Looking sternly at Lebuin, he continued, “Lebuin, you now directly work for Lord Argos. He is not so heavy a taskmaster as some other Gods, but he does have goals for all his mages. For now your task is to go out, experience the real world, learn about the people, and find some new magic or a new way to apply magic. When you have done that you will be ready for the next task already set out for you. Do not believe you are so unique; all mages have done this, since the founding of the Guild.”
Another swallow kept the warmth flowing through his veins. “What if I am killed in this work?”
“This is not the end of our adventures. Death has its own… paths. You may come back to research what you have learned in the libraries and with the Magi present to determine if you have found something new. Once it is agreed, you may then stay here and assist in preparing a manuscript, or an update to an existing manuscript, with your new knowledge. But you cannot stay here longer than absolutely necessary to make such determinations and updates. You will know when it is time for your next task.”
Thinking of Ditani, he asked, “Can I have help outside of the Guild? Assistants, other journeymen?”
“Of course; you can even spend your family’s small fortune trying to speed it up if you desire. There are no limitations on how you go about your work. Just remember, you are bound by the Laws of Magic far more now then yesterday, and Lord Argos is not forgiving of violations by his mages. The Gods long ago declared that ignorance is not an acceptable defense for any violation of their laws. Many countries have adopted this into their own legal systems. So beware of local laws, as ignorance is not likely to be forgiven, especially from a Journeyman. Don’t worry, we will know where you are and if you are still alive. Should the need arise we will be able to find you quickly, no matter where you may find yourself traveling.”
“That was the incantation at the ceremony, wasn’t it? All those channels, they are links so I can be traced. Or so I can trace others.”
The Councilor sat up straighter. “You detected the threads? You recognized their purposes?”
“Of course, why shouldn’t I? I have even activated the channel within me imprinted by the ceremony.”
The Councilor stood up and came around the desk, placing his hands on Lebuin’s head. Seeing no reason to resist he just relaxed and waited. “You have done that. But how did you know to do this?”
“It just seemed the right thing to do. I followed the feelings of the ceremony to find the channel.”
“You are only the third Journeyman in the history of the Guild to do this. That channel was not meant to be shown to you until you were made a Magus. Activating it is part of the Magus ceremony.”
Sitting up himself, he said, “But that is the purpose of using my artifact, isn’t it? An artifact can identify its owner.”
“Yes, I see no reason to hide this from you now. You’d discover it shortly anyway. Any magical artifact can be used by a Magi to trace its maker if they are still alive. Most artifacts cease to work once the maker has died, unless a trick is employed to make the artifact independent. However, even independent artifacts can still be used to trace their maker. In some cases, with certain knowledge, the artifact can also be used to breach the maker’s defenses.”
Lebuin thought about that. “So if another Magi got any of my existing artifacts they could find me and affect me through any defenses I might have.”
Nodding, the councilor moved back to his seat. “Yes, it can be very complicated. I know you are not yet certain of what to do first. So I suggest you go out on the town, find a guide, and go explore something, anything you want. I am sure there were odd questions you had about things in your training — now is the time to go and answer those. You also have full access to the entire library now. So before you spend cycles trying to answer a question, it would be best if you asked if it has been researched yet. Good luck, Lebuin, you have given us all a lot of surprises. I suspect your results will likely be just as unique. Do you have any questions?”
“I am sure I will have more later, but since I can come back and ask I only have one. What was that one thread at the ceremony that went to the ceiling?”
The Councilor looked at him for a minute and took a swig of his own glass before answering. “You detected that one. You really are a wonder. It didn’t go to the ceiling, it went through the ceiling. In fact I have seen it go in many directions, which makes me happy. To answer your question, that thread went to Lord Argos.”
Lebuin blinked; even with the ancient sharre in his system the shock was immense. I am truly bound to a real God, a God that can smell me out no matter where I may go. I wonder how much can be done with this connection.
“You’re white, finish your glass. It does take some time to get used to this knowledge. Now, you have earned this.” He pulled a flat leather case from his desk and handed it to Lebuin.
It was an ornate folded leather case slightly smaller than his palm, inscribed with the Guild’s seal. It opened easily on one side. With the front cover opened a silver and gold inlaid disk mounted to the stiff leather backing was revealed. The disk was artistically engraved with his name, the Guild seal, and the word “journeyman” in four languages around the edge.
Lebuin looked at the Councilor questioningly. “It’s your Journeyman badge,” he said.
Laughing, Lebuin said, “So last night when they congratulated me for earning the badge of Journeyman it was not just figurative.” Standing, he nodded at the Councilor. “I will find something to do soon. In fact, I already have a small quest in mind to perhaps get some ideas on what to really do.”
The Councilor didn’t stand, just made a shooing motion towards the door, which now opened quietly behind Lebuin. “Yes, go, go, and find your first task. Argos will guide you.”
Before I go out I need to get a few defenses ready. I can’t be caught stunned like I was last night. Stopping in the library, he reviewed some defense tomes. He chose a couple rather crude but easy attack formulae from the ones taught to all mages. Yes, these will do just fine. Remembering the lessons, he pooled the energies needed and prepared the incantations, adding them to his memorized incantations. Now I can at least defend myself rapidly. Pleased with the preparations, he left the library and headed for his room.
Entering his room, he saw Ditani was napping in the chair where he had left him. As he came in Ditani snapped to standing, looking embarrassed. “Master Lebuin, my apologies. I didn’t mean to fall asleep.” He looked better for the food and the short nap.
“Ditani, you have nothing to be embarrassed about. I have discharged my only duty for the day. Come, let us see if we can find Magus Vestul.” Holding the door open, he motioned to get Ditani moving.
Instead of heading out to the hall Ditani stood still and, quietly, so no one beyond the open door might hear, asked, “Um, if you’ll forgive my forwardness, Master Lebuin. Might it not be wise to bring some money?”
Oh my, he is good. “Thank you. Yes, I should bring some money. I have some things I’ll need to buy, so I might as well do some shopping while we look. Also, I assume you mean some tokens might also help restore lost memories?”
Ditani nodded agreement. I must remember everything will cost a coin or three. I might have to stop by my father’s office and withdraw some funds. I wonder how much a nice comfortable cart will cost. I need to be able to take my clothes with me. Opening a locked drawer, he pulled out his coin purse and examined it. Well, I assume eleven crosses and change will take care of the day. He put the coin purse into his belt pouch.
He turned to the door. Ditani was standing there waiting, and seeing that Lebuin was now prepared he opened the door for the Journeyman. Yes, indeed he would be a very welcome companion for the next few years. That is, of course, if I can hire him away from Magus Vestul. As they left the Guild he strengthened his shields as much as he could while holding the other incantations at the ready.
Ditani took him first to the Blue Dolphin Inn. Lebuin had never been inside it but had walked past it dozens of times on his way to the docks and his family’s offices. Ditani again held the door for him as he entered. The smoke parted around him as he entered. Even through the filtering of his shields he could smell the various scents of tobac. Smiling, he decided he should also get some of the better leaf today as he was running low. He took a minute to let his eyes adjust better to the dimmer room. It was much larger than he expected, taking up slightly more than half of the central section of the building, and stretching all the way front to back. A large bar stood across the back wall. Halls led off out of the room from the back right and left sides. There were three large fireplaces, now burning low. Next to the bar on the back wall was a wide table with a cloth covering that had the box symbols for card games. Some tables had a metal scissor-like apparatuses mounted in them which, observing a few of those tables with occupants, was for holding a dagger upright. Some of the other tables also had a dagger stuck right into the wood of the table.
Looking at the people sitting at the tables with upright daggers he found they all were looking back at him with assessing eyes. Not one of them embarrassed and most met him eye to eye. These are Daggers for hire. I forgot the Blue Dolphin is supposed to be where the best of the Daggers hire out. Looking at the daggers in the tables he saw that they were all functional weapons, but each was very distinctive. I need to ask Dad what the protocol is for hiring a Dagger. I might need one, and I probably can afford one of the best.
Ditani motioned for him to follow and led him to the bar, where a large muscled man was talking to a couple of well-dressed gentlemen. A lady dressed more like a city guard stood in the middle of the bar facing him, leaning back against the counter with a heavy mug in one hand the other resting on the hilt of a sword. The bartender was dressed well, but his clothes had dozens of stains from the food and drink he served. Trying to not look too out of place, Lebuin sat down on one of the many stools at the bar. He then looked back around the room. The Daggers had gone back to whatever they were doing when he came in. Some were writing in journals, others had an array of objects on their tables and were using them to work on one weapon or another. Still others were just talking. It was busier than he expected for midmorning. A few people, mostly reasonably well-dressed, vacated a table after looking him over. He noticed that a group of workmen who came in behind him walked past empty tables with the dagger holders and chose to sit at the communal tables. Why not sit at the empty table? Can only Daggers sit at those tables?
Looking at the daggers, not exactly good behavior sticking a dagger into a table especially when there are empty tables with dagger holders for just that purpose. There were three empty tables with holders and they were all near one wall or another. As he watched, a well-dressed man handed a couple of bells to one of the Daggers sitting at a table with a holder near the center of the room. The Dagger and his companions stood up, taking his dagger from the holder, and they left with their employer. Immediately there was a silent exchange of looks between the Daggers at tables without holders and one stood up, pulled his dagger out of the wooden table, walked over and sat down, placing his dagger into the holder. That was interesting. There must be a ranking order. Those other empty holder tables must signify something that these others don’t feel up to challenging or claiming.
“Master.” He remembered he was here for a purpose and while he had been staring at the unfamiliar room Ditani had been talking in soft tones with the bartender. “Magus Vestul has still not been seen.”
“Let’s go check the room.”
“I don’t have the key.”
“Well we can still knock; won’t the inn keeper open it for us?”
“No, that isn’t how it works here. Blue Dolphin rooms are for key-holders only. If you don’t have a room key or are a known invited guest they won’t let you go upstairs.”
Thinking of Magus Gezu, he asked, “What if Magus Vestul died in the room overnight of a heart problem like Magus Gezu?”
Ditani looked worried at the new thought. “I don’t know. It is not very likely.”
Lebuin turned around to the bar and signaled for the barkeeper to come over. After a minute he did.
“Yes, m’lord. Wha’ can I getcha?”
“I’d like to speak to the innkeeper please.”
The large man stood still staring at him for a minute as if he was an interesting new insect. A shiver ran down his back and he strengthened his shield a little more. The barkeeper’s voice remained calm, even friendly. “M’lord, I’m da inn keeper, owner an’ enforcer. How may I serve you?” The last had only a slight accent.
Oh great, I have insulted one of the most influential people in the city and I have only been a Journeyman here for a few marks. Smiling as nicely as he could, he covertly pulled a chera out and placed it on the counter near his hand — and, he hoped, out of view of most of the room’s occupants. “My apologies. I am worried about a friend, Magus Vestul. He was not exactly young; is there any way to check his room to be sure he hasn’t had an accident?”
The large man considered the idea for a minute. “Wait here.” He then walked around the end of the bar, crossed the room, and went up a set of circular stone stairs which Lebuin had not noticed, as the entrance was hidden from the main door but visible from the bar. All of the Daggers watched the innkeeper as he left, then looked back at Lebuin. He felt like a specimen on display, so he casually as possible turned his back on the room and leaned on the bar. Ditani stood next to him, facing the room.
Smiling he reached for where his coin had been on the counter. He didn’t take the coin. I thought bribes were common. His hand came up empty, and he looked at the bar in shock. Wait, where is the coin? Lebuin looked at the other people near the bar; none of them were close enough to have taken it. Thinking back, he mused, I’d swear on a stack of crowns he didn’t reach for the coin, and no one else could have either.
He looked at Ditani, confused. Ditani stood there looking at the room. “Do you think he’ll open the room?”
“Of course, but where did my chera go?” he asked softly.
Ditani glanced at him with almost the same look as the innkeeper before answering, “Genne took it, of course.”
Turning slightly, he was able to watch the room. As he waited, well-dressed folks came and went pretty often. Almost every merchant or noble actually walked around the room, boldly examining the daggers in the tables and the Daggers sitting at them too. “Is that normal?”
Ditani looked at what he was watching. “Of course. Merchants need specific services, so they have to find the right Dagger for their needs. No Dagger will ever take offense at being sized up by a client.”
The innkeeper returned. “M’lord, ya needn’t worry, yer friend ain’t dead in da room. Der ain’t no-un in da room. Can I getcha any ting else?”
Well, so much for an easy solution. Now what? Disappointed at the lack of a simple solution, he shook his head no. “Thank you, no. Can you tell him Journeyman Lebuin would like to speak with him as soon as possible at the Guildhouse when he comes back?”
“O’course m’lord. Ri’after I tell im of all da udder request. Very popular, dat one. I’ave ta’ charge him more nex’time.”
Now that is interesting. “Uh, popular? I take it there are a lot of people asking to see him.”
The innkeeper looked at him for a few moments before he realized that nothing more was going to come without some coin. Sighing, he fished out another chera. This time he left his finger on it. The innkeeper smiled a friendly smile and gave him a wink. “Ya might say dat. Been tree udders askin’ after him.”
Beginning to get the feel for this, he left the coin where it was but added another one. Smiling, he leaned a little closer. “Anyone I might know?”
“No m’lord, ‘least, not likely. One was a friend o’ Duke, a’nudder was a recent regular, Sula by name, and da last was a Knife, stake me rep on dat, I would.”
I know about the Duke, and what a Knife is I don’t think I want to know. Maybe I can meet this Sula and we can help each other. Nodding as he added a third coin, “Sula is a new regular? Where might I find him?”
The innkeeper’s hand came down, covering his hand and all three coins. It was heavy, muscled and coarse on the back of his hand. “M’lord, be careful o’dat one. Ya can fin’ ‘er at da Temple o’ Dalpha. Dats al’I can do for ya.” He turned, lifting his hand, and moved to some customers who were trying to dress well but failing miserably. Looking down, he saw all three of the coins were gone. Now that is an interesting trick.
Standing up, he motioned for Ditani to follow and he walked out, trying to look confident. On the way he took note of some Daggers he might come back and talk to later, after he had a chance to get some advice on hiring them. Both of the Daggers he was most interested in nodded politely to him as Ditani opened the door for him. Damn, how did they know I was thinking of them?
Once outside he started walking towards the docks and the main market. “This Sula sounds like she might be able to help. We can get to the Temple of Dalpha through the market.” Ditani simply nodded and followed.
The market was as busy as always, buskers screaming their wares, merchants in booths vying for the attention of anyone who even glanced at their stalls. Temple Street was on the far side of the market, so they simply began maneuvering through the stalls on a general course for the temple district. As they moved through the market he paid closer attention to the mundane things he had never considered buying, like the leather backpacks and the more sturdy boots. I need some boots that will not wear out, but I can keep looking respectable.
As he rounded a stall he caught sight of a serviceably but beautifully dressed woman wearing a dusky brick-red cloak with a rust-colored hood and fur-trimmed collar. The woman was just turning away from him, heading down another row. Her tanned skin and curly dark brown hear were perfectly suited to the dusky colors she wore. My Lord, it can’t be. That is the girl from the alley! She had already stepped out of sight with a sweetmeat in one hand and a pack swung over the opposite shoulder.
“Come on, I think I know her.” Stepping faster, he dodged around some other shoppers, not sure what he would do when he met her. But still, he knew he wanted to at least talk to her. He moved so fast Ditani was left behind. She was a few feet down the aisle when he rounded the corner. Smiling, he moved hurriedly to get close enough to say hello.
An explosion of light and sound hit him from behind, pushing him forward violently. His shield buckling under the force, he stumbled and tried to stay up. What the hell was that? Rebounding off the girl, knocking her forward as well, he managed to regain his footing. At the same time he pushed what energy he could through his channels to recover the protective shield. The sudden rush of energies was slightly more than needed, and the excess burnt as the channels allowed what they could to flow through. Turning around, he looked for the source of the force that had hit him.
Everywhere people were running and screaming, except for one man only a few paces away. The man was rough looking, wearing all black from neck to foot. He held a rod that was pointed straight at Lebuin. The man looked mad, and his eyes burned with a hatred Lebuin found hard to stand against. Gods, an assassin! Panic welled up inside Lebuin as lightning leaped from the rod, striking him again. His shield was not enough, and he felt like a fire had exploded inside him as the energy channel was forcibly disrupted. Worse, the energies he was trying to send through the now-destroyed channel began pooling and burning. The shield was gone, and he was burning inside from energies that no longer had a place to go, as well as from the tag end of the attack that had charred his arms and chest.
The man in black looked momentarily amazed and then moved rapidly towards Lebuin. His voice was husky but chilling. “Damn it!” was all Lebuin heard as he saw him pull a knife with the other hand and threw it into his chest.
The pain from the knife snapped something in Lebuin. Looking at the approaching assassin he released all the energies that were burning in him and connected a ley line in the air to the attack formula he had prepared before leaving the Guild, targeting the assassin. You can join me. As he started to collapse, golden energies leaped from his hands, arcing to the assassin. Some energy jumped to the rod in the assassin’s hand; as the darkness came, Lebuin smiled that his last sight was of his killer exploding in flames. Screams echoed down into the dark as he fell. Faintly he heard Ditani screaming his name, then nothing at all.