Session Eighty-Four - September 17, 2011

[Matt]

Peonu 21, 732
Tashal, Kaldor
Raven Hall

Noon

The sun shone warmly down upon the city of Tashal as a small group of horses and walking servants made their way through the Ternua Gate, up Ternua Road and around to Chidena Street. They halted in front of a large building near the city walls, Raven Hall.

A homely woman got off her horse. Tora looked up at the sky and briefly mused that it would have been perfect for hunting. Her gaze fell across her lord, Sir Baris. Accidents do happen. It wasn’t his fault he shot Sir Ewen in the leg, ending a perfectly good hunting trip. At least, she was pretty sure it wasn’t his fault.

For his part, Sir Ewen passed his horse off to the stableboy and strode into his home. The majordomo, Walin, welcomed him home and in response to a question about the status of the household informed the knight that all was well. “However, the urchins have come every morning, but they have nothing to do!” The man shook his head, aghast at the possibility. “Lady Thilisa is in residence -” his voice became droll - “She is a pregnant lady.” Ewen nodded. “There was one visitor who asked after you, and when told you were not in residence, went on his way.”

“When was this?” Ewen asked.

“On the nineteenth,” Walin replied. “I did not recognize the person, but they were not armed.”

“Very good, Walin, thank you. Please see to it that some food is brought to the hall, and then you are dismissed.”

Walin nodded respectfully and went off to carry the knight’s orders.

Over a light lunch the party discussed, at length, how to follow up on the murder investigation. Talk lapsed into theorizing, and Ewen wondered if the weather or time of year might factor in to the murders.

Sir Baris sighed in exasperation. Too much talk, not enough action! “You know, there are leads we haven’t followed up on. What about those sons of Torres that Kaelyn heard about from the old hag, what was her name, Laseral? Or what about his brother, the thief? Maybe Halime could tell us about him.”

“That might be worth exploring,” Sir Ewen allowed. After much further discussion, it was decided that Kaelyn would go to the Guild of Arcane Lore to speak with Wybert and learn more about Torres’s children, Nanno and Natto, and his brother, Casca. Armed with more information, the party would be better prepared to approach them.

Meanwhile, Tora would go to check out the hideworkers and embalmers, hoping to find out what these sons looked like.

Baris banged his hands on the table, full of nervous energy. He was still agitated about the incident during the hunt, and was feeling quite ashamed, though he hardly admitted it to himself. Sometimes he just wanted to hide. “Tora, wait a moment. I think I’ll go with you.” The knight rushed upstairs. After a short time a shabby looking Baris came down the stairs, wearing peasant clothing.

It had been quite some time since he had last inhabited the guise of Karl. Tora blinked. What the devil was this man thinking? He was not fooling her, nor, she thought, would he would he fool anyone else. Still, he was her lord. Someone had to watch out for him. “Sir, here is the story if you insist on that garb. We will say we have several rats we want to tan. They will likely refuse. We will say that Nanno the tanner worked there.”

Baris’s face lit up with inspiration. “Yes, I’ll say I have lots of rats hanging around I don’t know what to do with! And I have a great moneymaking idea: rat hide clothes! Or shoes! Or who knows? The hide is readily available.” Baris grinned. “If you have the skill.”

***

While Sir Baris was dressing up in costume, Kaelyn made her way to the Guild of Arcane Lore. There she found Wybert and brought him up to speed on what she had learned. She told him of her encounter with Laseral, and the incident with Sir Alfred at Varayne when the party had gone hunting.

Alfred had taken great offense that the party was looking into the murders. Sir Ewen had replied that his honor demanded it, as he was apparently a subject of investigation because some believed he was a Morgathian, based upon the evidence that when the party had discovered a nest of them at Abriel Abbey, some had escaped. Sir Alfred had stated that he did not have evidence one way or another regarding the theory that Sir Ewen was a Morgathian. Ewen had become quite wroth, and had stated that he warranted he had killed more Morgathians in one day than Alfred had taken in his entire investigation. At that point Alfred had rose and warned Ewen to stay out of the investigation or answer to the Laranian church and the King. Then he stormed off, and headed back to Tashal that night.

Wybert congratulated Kaelyn on tracking down Laseral. “However, I find Alfred’s reaction completely perplexing. If, as you suspect, he believes you are Morgathians, why would he tell you?”

“Perhaps he is under pressure to solve the case,” Kaelyn mused.

“I hadn’t thought about it that way,” Wybert replied. “But, what with the most recent murders, last month, he may be under more pressure than I suspected. I wonder if Sir Gorvan -” he paused in thought. “I would have heard,” he said to himself.

Kaelyn looked up. “Who?”

“Sir Gorvan Nevan is captain of the Royal High Guard,” Wybert answered. “For a time he was involved in the investigation, but he withdrew the Royal High Guard’s participation in the investigation when the Morgathian theory took hold - he thinks it’s bunk.”

“So he has sense,” Kaelyn said, smiling. “Do you think Sir Gorvan would speak to me, or should I leave well enough alone?”

“I don’t know,” Wybert admitted. “I spoke to him during my investigation, but I haven’t spoken to him since. I don’t travel in those circles.”

Kaelyn changed the subject. “Have you heard of a Nanno or Natto?”

Wybert looked away in thought. “No. But I do think speaking to Sir Gorvan would be a good idea. Even though he withdrew from the investigation, he might still know a little bit of what is going on, and may be able to give you some insights from a more rarefied point of view.”

***

Around the time Kaelyn was speaking to Wybert, Tora, as Baab, and Baris, as Karl, made their way to the hideworkers’s district. They traveled to the end of Mason way, their eyes watering in reaction to the noxious chemicals used in the tanning process. After asking a few locals, they found the establishment of one Dirren the Tanner, whom Laseral believed Torres’s son Nanno worked for.

Inside was a small counter on which the hides of several different creatures were piled. Some still had fur on them, others did not. Hides hung from every space on the walls.

“Hello, is there a Nanno around here?” Tora asked the man who came up to the counter when she and Baris came inside. “We heard he was a hideworker.”

“What’s your business with him?” the man asked.

“We need some tanning done?” Tora said slowly, but of course that was a lie.

“I can speak for Nanno,” the man said, “what’s your business?”

Tora paused, thinking quickly. “We heard he had a special skill, we wanted to speak with him directly.”

The man looked confused. “I don’t know what special skills he would have.”

“Is he around?” Tora asked.

“Could be.”

“We’re here about the rats,” the woman said.

“And you’re a ratcatcher!” the man said, pointing at Karl.

Tora made a small smile. Was this really her lord? “Yeah, we have the rats.”

Baris grinned, perhaps a little stupidly, or it might have been his normal grin. “I have this great idea, there are so many rats, and their hides are never used!”

“Ah, you want the hides tanned!” the man said. “Well, I’m Nanno.”

Nanno was a thickly muscled man with dark, swarthy skin, black hair, and a good week’s worth of stubble. His face was broad and flat, and he had an aquiline nose, over which brown eyes brooded. He was not terribly tall, perhaps about five foot three.

“You look familiar, haven’t we met?” Tora asked.

Nanno took a second look at the homely woman. “Nope, can’t say that we have.”

“Are you sure?” Tora asked, undefeated. “Do you have a twin brother?”

“No,” Nanno said slowly. “About these rats?”

“How much per rat?” Tora said. “We want to make sure we make a profit.”

“It wouldn’t be a per-rat fee, more of a batch order.”

“Yeah, we’ll bring in about twenty or so,” Tora said.

“Hm, cheaper by the dozen.” Nanno smiled at his own joke and then seemed to do some calculations in his head, at which Baris was slightly surprised. “About a penny per dozen.”

“How about a penny for two baker’s dozens?” Tora bartered. “We’re just bringing the skins, we’ll take the fur off them. That’s the work!”

“Oh, so you’re a hideworker, then?” Nanno said hotly.

“No,” Tora answered.

“What would you know about the work?” Nanno said defensively. “This is an honest, guilded profession, unlike unguilded ratcatching,” His voice dripped contempt.

“Oh, well, then, we’ll go then! Let’s go Karl!”

With that the knight playing ratcatcher and his woman-at-arms left the tannery, quite pleased with themselves. They had successfully located one of the suspects!

“Well, now we have a description, and Cekiya can follow him,” Tora said to Baris. “Let’s head over to the embalmers, and see if we see someone who looks similar to Nanno.”

The two made their way over to the corner of Ternua Road and Cheslo Lane, where the two embalmers, the jovial Orin of Saldim who dealt in urns, and the taciturn Iame of Sediel, who dealt in coffins, had their establishments. They decided to go to Orin’s shop first.

“Friends, friends!” Orin greeted them.

“Hello, I am Baab,” Tora said.

“And you are?” Orin inquired, turning to Sir Baris.

“This is my friend Karl,” Tora answered.

“Pleased to meet you.” He waved the pair into his shop. “Come on down!” He led them into a small shop packed to the brim with urns of many different sizes, shapes and patterns.

“We were told to look at your shop,” Tora said, her eyes running over all of the urns. “Grandmother is on her last legs, and she is very picky about what her receptacle is going to be.”

“You should be picky!” Orin said cheerfully. He looked them over, his smile faltering a bit when he noticed their shabby clothing. But he quickly perked up and showed the two around the small shop, pointing out various urns and describing their properties.

“Does a guy named Natto work here?” Tora interrupted when Orin was describing the water resistant properties of a particular clay.

Orin shook his head. “No, he works for Iame.”

Tora grunted, and pretended to settle on a particular urn. “So, this one?” She looked inquiringly at Baris, who nodded slightly.

Orin consulted a small piece of paper under the pot. “That will be eight pence.”

Tora’s eyes grew wide, and she pretended to blanch. “I knew we couldn’t do this,” she said glancing accusingly at Sir Baris. “What do you have for two pence?” she said hopefully.

Orin chuckled and picked up two halves of a broken urn. “Six pence!”

Tora shook her head. “Let’s go Karl.”

“I hope your grandmother pulls through!” Orin called after them. “I’ll get her eventually, though” he muttered cheerfully, and went back into his shop.

Tora and Baris went around the corner to the establishment of Iame of Sediel. As they entered the tall gaunt man behind the counter looked down at them over his nose. “You cannot afford it,” he said in a tone that brooked no argument.

“We were told Natto could help smooth things over,” Tora said.

“You were misinformed,” Iame stated. “I am the master, and you cannot afford it.”

Tora nodded once. “Good day.”

***

Meanwhile, Kaelyn made her way back to Raven Hall and reported in. She mentioned that Wybert suggested that her investigation could be furthered by a conversation with Sir Gorvan. However, it was not appropriate for a person of her station to question a knight, and so she humbly asked that Sir Ewen handle that part of the investigation. “Very well. Good work, Kaelyn,” Ewen said. “Gorvan is Captain of the Royal Guard, so he must travel with the King, presumably. I wonder if Rollard knows?”

Ewen made his way to Rollard’s quarters. “Suh Ewen,” he greeted.

“Sir Rollard,” Ewen intoned, nodding. “How is my lady wife?”

“Ah’m uhfraid she is not huhself,” Rollard drawled.

“Ah, resting,” Ewen said in understanding.

Rollard nodded. “In between bouts.”

“Do you know Sir Gorvan, the Captain of the Royal High Guard?”

“Ah have heard the name, but Ah am not acquainted with the gentleman.”

“My presumption is he would travel with the King,” Ewen said. “I need to speak with him.”

“Ah’m not shoah, but the presuhmption that he travels with the King is unfounded,” Rollard explained. “Suh Hedare Thaelbis, Marshal of the guard, travels with the king. Gorvan goes ahead of the king, to make shoah that all is in order.”

“So Gorvan could be in Olokand?”

“Possibly, but he travels more than his predecessor, so he could be anywhere in the kingdom.”

Suddenly the sound of retching echoed down the corridor. “On second thought, I will let my lady wife rest, give her my regards.”

“That is best,” Rollard agreed. “Ah too have found it best to avoid disturbing her.”

***

After speaking with Sir Rollard, Ewen dictated a letter to Sir Gorvan, asking for a meeting. As usual, Imarë performed her task admirably.

Later that afternoon, Sir Ewen sat in a comfortable chair in his study and rested his mind, clearing it of all distractions. He set his thoughts upon the Baron of Tonot, and wondered what exactly that man was seeing at the moment. He stretched his mind towards the ether. Unfortunately for Sir Ewen, but perhaps fortunately for the Baron, Ewen’s mind remained within his own head.

***

Since Baris and Tora were off trying to find Nanno and Natto, Kaelyn decided to find out more about Torres’s brother, Casca. He was the one Laseral suspected was a thief. Thieves meant the Lia-Kavair, and that meant Halime. She recalled that the last time she had spoken to the thief-lord, she had promised her next invitation would be a perfumed letter. Not being the kind of lady who had perfume on hand, she would need to acquire some. She seemed to recall having seen a perfumer off Mangai Square.

A short time later Kaelyn was standing just off Mangai Square under a sign the sign of a rose and a dolphin. She was not quite sure what the dolphin meant, but roses smelled nice, so this must be the place. Inside there was a counter, behind which were shelves filled with cakes of soap. The shop smelled fine enough, but there was an underlying caustic odor. “Pleased to meet you, I am Norban of Kramel,” said the man behind the counter. “How may I help you?”

“I was looking for some perfume?” Kaelyn asked.

“I don’t deal in perfume, I deal in soap, but I might be able to help you.” Norban bent down and rummaged about under the counter; jars and vials clinked against each other. After a few moments he stood up, a box in his hands. He placed the box on the counter and removed the lid, revealing several small vials.

Taking each vial in hand, Kaelyn brought it to her nose and politely sniffed. After rejecting a few vials, she found one that smelled fine. “This is acceptable.”

“Norban smiled. “A real bargain, too, only thruppence.”

A short while later Kaelyn was sitting in the kitchen, looking over her perfume.

“Ooo, perfume!” Imarë said gaily as she walked in. “May I smell?” Kaelyn nodded, and the elf took a vial and brought it to her nose. Almost immediately her face blanched a bit. She smiled stiffly. “That’s very nice. How much did you pay for this?”

Kaelyn, however, saw through this act and took the vial up to Sir Baris’s room. A bit nonplussed, the knight smelled the vial. He made a face and retched. “I’ve known some whor-, uhm, working girls, who would turn this down.”

Later, a downtrodden Kaelyn made her way to another perfumer, Imarë in tow. This one was nicer. The posts and beams were nicely carved, there was well-made a carpet, a fine oak table, and the shelves were much more elaborately arranged. Additionally, an armed guard stood watch. As they entered the proprietor looked up from a ledger. He glanced at the guard. “Is there something I can do for you?” he said, his expression indicating he would rather not.

“Looking for a small vial of perfume,” Kaelyn explained.

“No doubt,” the perfumer said dryly.

“It’s for my master.”

“Of course,” the man said, smiling down at the little mage.

“For his lady,” Kaelyn continued.

“Who pray tell is your master?”

“Sir Ewen Ravinargh,” Kaelyn informed him.

“Sir Ewen Ravinargh?” The perfumer looked at Imarë. “You no doubt are the famous elf.”

“I am,” the elf replied.

“You ladies go elsewhere, don’t waste my time,” the perfumer said, and waved his hand in dismissal.

“You don’t want to sell us perfume for the Lady Thilisa?” Kaelyn asked.

“I don’t believe you.”

“Suit yourself,” Kaelyn said, nonplussed. She turned and all but stormed out of the little shop.

“What now?” Imarë asked.

“I suppose we could go back to the other perfumer?”

Kaelyn and Imarë made their way back to Norban’s establishment. “You again?” the man asked. Kaelyn asked to see the perfumes she has looked at before. Shrugging, the man placed the box back on the counter. Imarë smelled each in turn, but did not like any of them.

Back at Raven Hall, Kaelyn informed Sir Ewen of her dealings and their results.

“What about Elsa?” Ewen wondered aloud. “Couldn’t she help you with some higher class perfume?”

At the mention of that most excellent (and acrobatic) courtesan, Sir Baris perked up. “I could deliver that message!” he said excitedly, ready to go the distance for his good friend Sir Ewen.

As it happened, Kaelyn was sent to Elsa, and returned with some perfume that, actually, Sir Ewen had given to her awhile back but she had never really cared for.

Imarë gently sniffed the vial, and it was good.

Later Kaelyn sat at her desk writing a letter informing Halime she would be coming by to ask about a thief name Casca. With a little bit of glee and satisfaction (after the ordeal of obtaining it) she dabbed a bit of perfume onto the letter.

***

That evening Tora went to Elf & Dwarf to do a little bit of bouncing, as was her wont in the evenings. She happened to notice Orin of Saldim, the embalmer she and Sir Baris has spoken to earlier, entertaining some other guildsmen. Although she had been disguised, Tora kept her distance. The man did not appear to recognize her. A little while later Sir Baris paid Elsa a visit. As he made a quick way upstairs, he noticed Orin in passing. The peasant did not notice him, and certainly did not suspect that this knight had earlier been in his shop posing as a lowly ratcatcher.

Business was picking up at the Elf & Dwarf. There were customers aplenty, the ale and conversation kept flowing, the dice kept rattling, and the ceiling kept creaking. The place seemed to be getting back into its old stride.

***

Meanwhile, back at Raven Hall, a servant brought Kaelyn a message. “A man came to the door, and did this.” He passed his finger along his nose.” Do you know what that means?”

Kaelyn blinked. “I don’t know. I’ll ask Cekiya, she is the expert on the odd.”

After wandering the halls a bit, Kaelyn found Cekiya leaning against the fireplace in a dark corner. “Halime sent me a message.” She ran her finger along her nose. “Do you know what that means?” Cekiya thought that it meant Halime was saying that they shared a secret.

Presumably that meant that the meeting was on. Still, it didn’t hurt to be too careful when dealing with the Lia-Kavair. “Could you check out the Spurs before I go speak with Halime?” Kaelyn asked the little adder.

Cekiya smiled and jumped up and headed towards Thilisa’s room. “Where are you going?” Kaelyn asked, but the adder was gone.

Quiet as a cat Cekiya opened Thilisa’s door and tiptoed across the room to the window. The Lady was lying on her back, arms and legs akimbo, mouth wide open, snoring like a bellows. Without a sound, the adder opened the sash, and hopped onto Lady Peresta’s roof. She looked around, but saw nothing of import. She turned around and closed the window.

She scampered across the roof and looked down Maranos Way towards Lady Cheselyne’s. She saw some people walking along about their own business, and two of Dickon’s men up past Lady Cheselyne’s. They were doing their best to blend in, the poor dears, but mostly they just looked like they were trying to blend in.

Hanging down over the edge of the room supported only by her legs, and looking towards Galopea’s Feast, she saw Aethel Atan’s cook (was her name Molly? she wondered) sneaking out with a man at arms.

Cekiya leaned back up and scrambled to the next roof, sinking in a bit into the thatch. She heard a scurrying sound and a rat popped up from the straw. It frowned at her, then went on its way. Cekiya went her own way, and jumped onto Aethel Atan’s roof, landing with nary a sound. She quickly climbed down to the alley, but slipped a bit during the last few feet. She quickly walked on, as if she had meant to do that.

As she came onto the street, Aethel Atan opened his door to peek out. “Doesn’t Sir Ewen have a door?” he asked no one in particular. He shrugged and then walked across the street towards Galopea’s Feast, apparently thinking, well, as long as I’m up ...

Cekiya made her way to the Spurs without further incident. A few drunks were loitering outside, arguing over which whores were better, those on the street or those in the houses of pleasure. Cekiya frowned. Touching was bad.

She found a shadowy corner across from the Spurs and settled in to wait for Kaelyn.

***

Half an hour later, Kaelyn made her way to the Spurs, confident that Cekiya had taken care of any potential problems. A gentle cough as she went by let her know that her friend was watching over her.

The mage went into the bar and sat down. A barmaid came over, the same moment a young male patron swiveled towards Kaelyn, a huge smile on his face. “Sod off,” the barmaid said, and he did. “Are you Kaelyn?”

“I am.”

“Come with me.” The barmaid took Kaelyn to the building to the right of the front door. Kaelyn glanced around, and caught Cekiya’s eye. She nodded for her friend to wait. Once inside, the barmaid led Kaelyn through a room with long tables, where men sat enjoying their ales. One looked as if to speak, but was silenced when his companion put a hand on his shoulder. Kaelyn and the barmaid, no doubt a servant of the Lia Kavair, made their way to a private room, furnished with a bed, table and chairs. A flagon flanked by a couple of tankards sat on the table.

“Wait here,” the barmaid ordered, and left.

Kaelyn waited ten minutes for Halime to arrive. She did not twiddle her thumbs, but instead considered the many terrible spells at her disposal, and what Halime would look like with an ice sword through him. It could be an improvement. The door opened, and Halime strode in. “Fuck you and the horse you rode in on,” he said over his shoulder. “Kaelyn!” he said when his eyes fell upon the mage. “I got your letter! Smelled pretty!”

“You can thank Elsa for that.”

“Elsa?” Halime looked confused for a moment. “Oh, yeah, the flip girl.”

“Yes, I had a perfume adventure.”

The master thief arched an eyebrow. “Anyone I know?”

“I don’t know who you know,” Kaelyn stated simply.

“I know everybody.”

The mage laughed. “Then yes!”

“Anything I need to take care of?” Halime smiled a mean smile that did not reach his eyes. “Just say the word!”

“No, Cekiya will see to that; have a little night fun.”

Halime’s face fell. “Oh.”

“The perfumer on Heru Road. He was rude. Cekiya’s going to take care of it.”

“Ah,” Halime said. “I wouldn’t. He’s perfumer to every noblewoman in the kingdom - there would be a stink.”

“Okay.”

Halime changed the subject. “So what can I do for you? More importantly, what can you do for me?”

There was a knock at the door. “Come in!” Halime said happily. A serving girl of about ten with a mop of straw colored hair came in carrying a plate of chicken and bread.

“I’ve eaten,” Kaelyn said.

Halime sent the girl off. “What can I do for you?”

Finally they were getting down to business. “I need to speak to thief named Casca.”

Halime clapped once. “Done. Anything else?”

Kaelyn blinked. This was going a little too well. “Nope, that’s it.”

“Get Casca in here!” Halime yelled through the door.

Outside Cekiya sees a swarthy looking man being perp-walked into the building Kaelyn is in.

A short time later there was a knock at the door the private room. “Got him?” Halime asked without opening the door. There was a muffled “Yep!” in reply. “Bring him in!”

Two thugs came through the door dragging a struggling, black haired man, presumably Casca, behind them. They shoved the man to his knees at Halime’s feet.

Halime pointed to Kaelyn. “Tell her what you know!”

“Yes Halime,” Casca said in a foreign accent.

“Casca, I need to talk to you about your brothers,” Kaelyn began, not allowing her nervousness to show.

“Dogs, both of them!” Casca spat. “Haven’t seen that Jonni for ages!”

“Good, then you won’t mind if I have to kill one of them,” Kaelyn said with an evil grin.

“I will help you kill them!”

“But I need to find them first,” Kaelyn said. “I’ve found Torres’s sons.”

“Dogs, both of them!” Casca said, then thought for a second. “Except the one who lives with me. No, he’s a dog too! And he stinks like piss!”

“You’ve heard of the murders that took place on temple grounds?” Kaelyn asked.

“No, I haven’t heard of them,” Casca replied.

“They are like how Torres killed his wife.”

“He’s a dog, I’m not surprised he killed his wife!”

“It’s possible your nephews or brother are killers.”

“I wouldn’t put it past them, sons of dog excrement!” He spat again. “They are all dogs, all capable of this!”

“Let me tell you what I have learned.” Kaelyn told her tale, how she was approached by the priestesses, followed up with Wybert and then Laseral, up to her most current investigations.

“I know that story!” Casca yelled. “It is a vicious lie! My brother Torres, he is a dog, and we had to flee my homeland - but he did not kill his wife. That is a lie. I wish he had, because then I could have strangled him with my bare hands!”

“What happened to her?” Kaelyn inquired.

“I don’t know what happened.”

“What about Bara?” Kaelyn asked, referring to the prostitute Torres had Natto with.

“Filthy whore, prostitute; got herself killed!”

“You must admit it looks suspicious.”

“People suspect us because we not from Kaldor,” Casca said indignantly. “We are from Karejia! Does not matter.”

“Why do you call your brothers and nephews dogs?” Kaelyn asked.

“Because they are dogs!”

“They are your family, are they not?”

“My brother Torres would screw anything that moves, and even some that don’t; he has no shame! Jonni tried to screw anything that moved, including our sister!”

“What about your nephews?”

“No, not them!”

“No,” Kaelyn said, clearly Casca had misunderstood her. “Do they screw anything that moves as well?”

“I don’t know,” Casca admitted. “The one who works with dead people, I haven’t seen him in years, and the one who lives with me, I haven’t seen him with a man, woman, or a dog!”

“There’s a rumor Morgathians are involved.”

Casca looked confused. “Morgathians, some new kind of dog? I do not know these Morgathians.”

“Thank you Casca, sorry to take you away from your ale.” Kaelyn said, her tone one of dismissal.

Casca blinked. “That’s it? I’m not to be dead?”

“That’s it!” Kaelyn said happily.

Halime turned his gaze upon Casca, however. “The night is still young.” He turned to Kaelyn.” Did you get what you needed?”

“I got what I got,” Kaelyn admitted.

“Do you need more?” the master thief asked.

“I need to know who’s killing these people.”

Halime grinned, and in a flash he had a wickedly sharp blade pinned against Casca’s throat. “Who’s killing these people!”

“I don’t know! I don’t know!” Casca squeaked, beginning to sweat and squirm.

Halime gently pressed the blade into Casca’s skin, creating a small gash which began bleeding freely. “I swear boss, I don’t know!”

The boss hesitated, as if sad about Casca’s answer, and then took the knife away. “Get this dog out of here.” While the poor thief was being dragged out, his hands over his throat, Halime cleaned his knife with a dirty rag. “I saw it in his eyes - he doesn’t know.” He threw the rag into a corner. “Another ale?”

“Cekiya might come in unhappy if I wait too long,” Kaelyn warned.

Halime’s eyes tightened at the mention of the adder. But then he put a false smile on his face. “Bring her in, you’ll set her straight about the perfumer, then we’ll have a party!”

A few minutes later, Cekiya did come in. Kaelyn took the opportunity to extricate herself, despite Halime’s protestations.

“Come again!” he called as the women slipped out into the night.

***

Later that evening the party met in Sir Baris’s bedroom at the Elf & Dwarf. Kaelyn updated them on what she had learned from Halime.

Tora opined that perhaps this whole business of Casca hating his brothers was a red herring, because Casca didn’t want to give up Torres as the killer of his wife or Bara, despite the fact that he apparently hated his family so much.

“No, my money is on Natto,” Kaelyn said. “Casca hasn’t seen him for years, and he is an embalmer, so he knows a little about how the body works.” As she made each point she raised a finger. “His mother was a lady of the night who was killed in the act, and he witnessed it. Finally, Casca hasn’t seen him in years.”

***

Peonu 22, 732
Tashal, Kaldor
Raven Hall

The party gathered for breakfast in Raven Hall, and continued the discussion from the night before.

The party wondered about possible locations where the victims might gather before going off for privacy, and then being killed. Many taverns were mentioned, but most were rejected because they catered to clientele of too high or low social standing. The Elf & Dwarf, the Tower, and the Coin & Broom were all considered as possibilities, however.

“I wonder how he gets around?” Baris wondered.

“Maybe through the tunnels,” Cekiya said. At the inquiring looks of those gathered, Cekiya explained that there were a series of tunnels under Tashal. They started at as ancient Khuzan sewers, and dated back over a thousands years. Since then, more tunnels had been dug by the Navites and Lia Kavair.

“Now that we have more information, maybe we should follow up with Nanno and Natto,” Baris said.

Cekiya shook her head, and suggested instead that she and Imarë split up and follow Nanno and Natto. Cekiya would follow Natto, the embalmer, while Imarë would follow Nanno, the tanner.

“That sounds best,” Ewen said, and the matter was decided.

A little after six o’clock in the evening, after Cekiya had been staking out the Embalmer’s all day, (even going so far as to urinate in a nearby alley in view of some derelicts, who rather enjoyed the show) a swarthy young man, only a little taller than her, strolled out of Iame’s shop. He went down Ternua road, towards Haldan Square. The little adder pulled up her hood against the rain and quickly followed, flitting from shadow to shadow. Finally he ducked into a tavern. Above the door hung a sign which sported a well-endowed dwarf and elf.

***

Meanwhile, Imarë was following Nanno the hideworker. As she made her was along Mason way, looking for the right tannery, a number of dirty, skinny children came up to her.

“Are you the urchin lady?” one of the children asked. There was too much dirt on the child’s face to tell if it was a boy or a girl.

“I am,” Imarë said.

“Can we be urchins too?” another child asked.

The elf looked at the children more closely, and recognized a girl-child standing in the back, who she had been referring to as Number 17. She beckoned the girl to come forward, and the child did, eyes downcast and holding her hands together. “Y-Yes urchin lady?” she asked nervously.

“Next time bring your friends,” Imarë said, her wave including the gathered throng.

The children cheered. “Cakes!” they yelled excitedly.

“Oh, by the way, do you know where Nanno lives?” the elf asked.

“Yes, right there!” the girl-child said. All of the kids pointed to the tannery. Presumably Nanno lived with Casca in the upper floor of the tannery.

“When you come tomorrow, tell me where Nanno goes other than home,” Imarë instructed the children.

The children nodded in unison before scampering off.

Imarë headed off towards her room the Elf & Dwarf. Her cover was blown, so she might as well get some rest.

***

Raven Hall

Sir Ewen sat in his study, musing on the politics of Kaldor. What would his next move be?

There was a knock at the door. “Enter,” the knight said quietly.

Walin of Vastair stepped in. “Master, one Dickon of Parketh is below.”

Ewen nodded. “Send him up.”

“Very good milord. Walin bobbed his head and stepped out.

A few minutes later, Dickon came into the study. “Sir Ewen,” he said simply and bowed.

“You have something to report?” Ewen said without getting up.

“I come for milady.”

“Well?” Ewen asked after a pause.

“She would like to see you, sir.”

Ewen stood up. “I will come at once.”

Ewen followed Dickon to Hag Hall. Dickon left the knight in the small hall. “Milady will meet you here, Sir Ewen,” he said, and departed.

A few minutes later a servant came in and offered Ewen some wine, which he accepted. He sat down and took a sip.

After an interlude, longer than Ewen would have preferred, Rahel swept into the room and almost into his lap with grace and airs. “Brother.” She sat down at the table next to him. “Oh, wine.” She opened her hand and the goblet floated through the air to her waiting grasp. “Have you heard? It is too delicious!’

“I’m afraid I haven’t,” Ewen admitted. “I’m all ears, my delectable sister.”

“Am I delectable?” Rahel looked up at the ceiling in thought. “I suppose I am,” she said after a moment. “How was Varayne?”

“It was trying.”

“How can I expect you to run a kingdom if you can’t run a manor?”

“It would have been easier if I hadn’t been shot in the leg by a friend,” Ewen said with a touch of heat.

Rahel tut-tut-ted. “That clumsy Sir Baris.”

“If the shot had been a few inches higher, would have been another matter entirely.”

Rahel moved her hand to his thigh and closed her eyes. Ewen’s heart beat just a little faster. “Would that I were a healer, but I detect nothing foreign.” She sat back into her chair and sipped her wine. “Your wound will mend - forgive me brother, I did ask in jest, and yet it seems there was something serious.”

“I was going to mention that Sir Alfred Doulzarn and I had an unpleasant interaction around the whole Morgathian thing.”

“Tut tut, Sir Alfred Doulzarn,” Rahel said haughtily, “a self-righteous prig.”

“Indeed.”

“You know I have been making a study of Kaldoric society, and one can’t help but find out about the local law enforcement.”

“What do you know about Sir Gorvan?” Ewen asked.

“I have news, but I will answer your question first. Sir Gorvan Nevan, Captain of the King’s Guard, is presently in town. The Guard consists of six heavy companies, two heavy horse, and four medium foot,” Rahel explained. “One company of the heavy horse, a squadron, I think that’s what they call cavalry, and two of the medium foot, the low guard, always travel with the King.” She paused, and Ewen nodded for her to go on. “Two companies of the low guard, the medium foot, are always stationed in Tashal.” She raised her finger, indicating the important point. “And one company, of the High Guard - the heavy horse, travel in advance of the King, to where he is going next - Sir Gorvan arrived some three days ago.”

“Presaging the King’s arrival, I gather?” Ewen asked.

“Yes, the 19th to be precise,” Rahel confirmed. “The advance guard is usually three to five days ahead of the King, so he should arrive anytime now. But that’s not what I wanted to talk about.” She paused and smiled, rubbing her hand on her belly. “Oh, your son waxes beautifully. I should be pregnant all the time.”

“A beguiling thought sister.”

“I’ve never felt as good. I feel filled with life. I am almost, I know this sounds ridiculous, I feel like the mother of the universe.”

Ewen grinned. “Are you sure that doesn’t run in the family?”

“Promise me, once I have delivered to this child, you will fill me with another one.”

“My thoughts have already turned to the thing.”

“Fabulous.” Rahel’s expression turned serious. “But I have news. Here is the question - I am afraid that the Baron of Stimos may not be as useful as he once was. While you were gone, he apparently attended a soirée. At this soirée he met a young lady, one Lady Brevlyn - are you ready brother- Meleken.”

Ewen’s eyebrows shot up.

“She is not important, and has no potential to stand in the way of the earldom, she is the youngest daughter of the youngest son of the youngest branch of a family that has failed to do anything.” She placed her wine glass down. “But she is young, nubile and quite attractive, can you imagine, and Lord Stimos, silly sod, has become completely infatuated with her.” Rahel shook her head playfully. “He spends every waking moment and every non-waking moment in her company; it’s a wonder he can walk.”

“This surprises me.” Ewen chuckled. “I thought you were under the impression he was not capable of such exertions at his age.”

“I was wrong - apparently it required the proper pertness to awaken the long dormant lance.” She sighed. “In any event, he has scarcely been seen outside of Tharda house in a week or more. But that is not the most important news I have.”

“Tell on,” Ewen encouraged.

“I am not certain, I have not been able to confirm it, in part, because the Baron of Stimos is infatuated with a nymph, had he been doing his job, I would have better information.” She took a sip of wine. “There is some indication that a murder has occurred - a high profile, high level, murder, or at the very least, such a person has been found dead. I do not know who it is, I do not know the circumstances, but it has all been very hush-hush. And the Royal Guard has taken control of the situation.”

“That probably explains why Gorvan has been remiss in replying to his correspondence,” Ewen mused.

“This is what is intriguing,” Rahel said. “Someone has died, and it is being kept secret at the highest levels of Kaldoric society.”

“Do you think it happened in the castle?” Ewen asked. “And when did it occur?”

“No, I think it happened in the city, or very nearby,” Rahel answered. “The body was found on the eighteenth.” She finished her wine. “By the way, Sir Rohn has returned from Minarsas.”

“Why do you mention that?”

“You would have been proud of me brother, I have nearly established as good a network as I had in Golotha. I knew you were back two days ago.”

Ewen smiled ruefully. “You chastise me rightly, my dear.”

“I do not chastise you, I merely remind you.” Rahel stood, stretched in her languid feline manner, the diaphanous gown she was wearing, showing a bit of a bump. “I do trust you will be able to spend the night?”

Afterward, Ewen relaxed his mind and touched that of the child growing in his sister’s belly.

His last thoughts were of Kaldoric politics. What to do about Stimos?

***

The Elf & Dwarf

An embalmer by the name of Natto entered the Elf & Dwarf, but neither Sir Baris nor Kaelyn noticed. However, they did notice when Cekiya slunk in.

His contact was here! Sir Baris waved Cekiya over to his table. The poor girl sighed heavily and came over to the bar, where Baris was sipping an ale.

The knight looked over his shoulder conspiratorially. “Anything to report?” he asked quietly, not quite looking at Cekiya.

“Do I know you?” she replied. “Can you at least buy a girl an ale?”

Baris gestured to a serving wench and an ale was be brought over.

Cekiya sipped her ale, and as she put the flask down, whispered “He’s at the elf table.” Then she stood, and went to join a dicing game. They were full, so she went to sit at the dwarf table, next to Kaelyn.

Baris stared at the elf table as subtly as he could, finally picking out the man Cekiya had mentioned. Natto was not as swarthy as Nanno, but he had the same facial features and stocky build.

“Did you have a good day Cekiya?” Kaelyn asked her friend.

“I’d say it was pretty good.”

“Did you get lot’s of things done? Like that project?”

Cekiya smiled. The mage knew how the game was played. “I’d say yes.”

“You ever see that guy again, the one you wanted to see?”
“Yeah, amazing how much you have in common with him, same drinking holes.” Cekiya touched her finger to her nose.

The two chatted idly. After her second ale, Cekiya got up to leave and asked Kaelyn to keep an eye on Natto. She gave the same message to Baris on her way out. “You might be needed to help with the drunks,” he said, eyes flicking towards the elf table.

“You don’t think you can handle it?” Cekiya asked.

“My skills lie elsewhere,” Baris said. “But I suppose Tora can handle it.” We waved the adder away. “Have a good evening.”

Baris called Tora over. “Our friend is at the elf table, watch out for him, and help him home, from a distance,” he whispered, “if he needs it.”

Later that evening, as ordered, Tora followed Natto when he left for the night. Unfortunately either he knew he was being followed and gave her the slip, or Tora’s mind was not on her work, either way she quickly lost him. Tora was not the spy Cekiya was.

***

Peonian Crypt

After finishing her ale, Kaelyn caught up with Cekiya. She had had a sudden hunch, and wanted to check it out. So now the two women found themselves outside of the Peonian crypt in the middle of the night. The door was locked, but it was rusted and had not been used in decades. Cekiya merely pushed the door open, the latch opening with little effort. A ramp led down into the darkness. Kaelyn spoke some words of power, and a spike of ice grew from her hand, glowing with a faint blue light.

In the light of the ice sword, the women could make out a dais, bodies in the alcoves on the walls, and a lectern just before a bier, around which four statues stood. These were the Servants of Peoni - Belsirasin, Maermal, Tirrala, and Yselde. There were also some stairs headed downwards along one of the walls.

A faint noise reached Kaelyn’s ears. It almost sounded like chanting, or perhaps a keening. “I heard something,” she whispered.

Cekiya crouched and called upon Dekejis’s Gift to make her steps silent and leave no trail. She crept down the stairs. Her nose wrinkled - she smelled incense, and she could sense something else, perhaps. At the foot of the stairs she felt a presence. She took a step forward and reached out her hand, grabbing the miscreant by the collar.

The man a screamed. Kaelyn heard, and ran down the stairs. She found Cekiya, surrounded by columns, standing in a small pit. She had what appeared to be a Peonian by the scruff of his neck.

Down here there were more crypts, and in the dim blue glow of her sword, Kaelyn noticed a tunnel in one of the walls, presumably one of the ones Cekiya had told her about earlier.

“What are you doing down here?” Kaelyn asked him.

“P-praying to the Lady of Tirrala!” the man stuttered.

“Why not pray upstairs?”

The miscreant looked at his captors. “Wait, you’re women, like the Lady.” He hiccupped.

Cekiya tightened her grip and the man squirmed. “How often do you come down here and pray?”

“Almost daily?” the man offered.

“You mean nightly?” Kaelyn corrected.

“Yeah, nightly.”

“Use a torch next time,” Kaelyn suggested.

“I don’t need a torch, I know my way.”

“How long have you been coming to pray?” Cekiya piped in. “Years?”

“No, I’m a mendicant,” the man said. “I’ve been coming almost a year.”

“I’m sure the lady appreciates your efforts,” Kaelyn said.

“I find this place soothing, and all those who have gone to Serola are here.”

“Have you ever see a murder down here?” Cekiya asked suddenly.

“Well, yes and no,” the man said.

“Tell me the yes part,” Cekiya said.

“There are a lot of women murdered in Tashal.”

“Did you see the one murdered in the Peonian crypt?” Kaelyn asked.

“Yeah,” the man said.

“Did you see it happen?”

“Yeah.”

“Why didn’t you tell the sheriff?” Kaelyn asked.

“I did.”

Cekiya sighed. “What did you tell him?”

“I don’t think he believed me,” the man said.

“I am looking into this for the Peonian priestesses,” Kaelyn explained. “Would you mind telling me what you told the sheriff?”

“Wait, what I told the sheriff?”

Kaelyn gritted her teeth. “Yes.”

“I told the sheriff, what I saw.”

“What did you see?” Kaelyn snapped. “Do you remember?”

“I saw two people gathered unto the meadows of Valon.”

“Did you see a man? Kaelyn asked, and the mendicant nodded. “Was the man tall or short?”

“He was my height,” the man said.

Kaelyn looked at the man before her, and judged he was about five foot three. “Did he look Kaldoric or foreign?”

The man thought for a moment. “I can’t rightly say, it was dark.”

“Did the man say anything?”

“No, he well, you know, the two of them were - the goddess would not have been pleased. And there they were, and it was dark, so I couldn’t really see, and then someone jumped out of one of the crypts!”

“Do you know which one?”

The man pointed to the left hand side of the wall, opposite the tunnel. “He killed the boy. Pretty handy with a knife, I have to say.”

“Was it a big knife or a small knife?” Kaelyn asked.

“I couldn’t really tell. It couldn’t have been too big. Then he went after the girl, stabbed her good. Then I think he heard me.”

“Were you trying to help the girl?” Kaelyn asked gently.

The man nodded. “That’s what the lady would want.”

“Yes, but did you?”

“That’s what the lady would want.”

Cekiya groaned. Baris was smarter than this guy. “Where did he go when he heard you?”

“He disappeared,” the man said wondrously.

“Into crypt, over there?” Kaelyn asked, pointing towards the tunnel.

“I think so,” the man said. “I thought about helping but they were already on their way.”

Kaelyn dismissed her ice sword. “I’m sure you said the proper prayers to help them on their way.”

“Yes, I sent them to the meadows of Valon, where we all hope to go,” the man said wistfully. “I have told this story before,” he said suddenly.

“Did you also tell the Pelnala?” Cekiya asked.

“No I told this story to Sir Alfred.”

“Did you tell anyone else?” Kaelyn asked.

“No one else has cared.”

“Your Pelnala cared,” Kaelyn said.

“Who?”

“You live at the temple.”

“No, I’m a mendicant,” the man said.

“For a traveler, you’ve been in Tashal awhile,” Cekiya said suspiciously.

“There are many people in need of saving here.”

“Have you seen other women murdered in Tashal?” Cekiya asked.

“Not that I can say.”

A thought occurred to Cekiya. “If you saw this man again, I know it was dark, do you think you could recognize him?”

The mendicant shook his head sadly. “If I could I would already have told Sir Alfred.”

“You might not have seen him yet,” Cekiya said.

“It was very dark. If I could I would have told Sir Alfred. Sir Alfred is a good man.”

“Sir Alfred doesn’t want anyone else to care about these murders. Can you not tell him we talked to you? Sometimes the Lady sends us help whether we want it or not. Why stress the poor man out if we don’t have to?

“Yes,” the simple man said simply.

Kaelyn looked at Cekiya. “Well, we’ll leave you to your prayers.”

The mage and the adder could only contain their laughter until they got out of the Peonian crypt, and they giggled all the way back to Raven Hall.

Peonu 23, 732
Tashal, Kaldor
Raven Hall

The following morning, Sir Ewen met Sir Baris out in the lane as both headed towards Raven Hall to break their fast. Both were in high spirits, and largely for the same reason. Tora followed behind the two knights, their bonhommie lifting her spirits as well. Upon entering, they were surprised to see that Imarë was there and wearing her best red dress and her ruby brooch. The elf Melas, whom they had met in Minarsas, was sitting by the hearth. Kaelyn, Cekiya, and Filen all looked apprehensive. “Sir, Ewen,” said Filen in a subdued tone of voice, “Imarë has asked that we gather for she has something to say.”

They listened in growing disbelief as Imarë told of how Melas had found her last night, and told her that a ship was leaving for the Blessed Realm, and that her mother and brother were already embarked. She felt called to travel with them to the Sindarin heaven. She thanked them for the being steadfast companions, and for all the entertainment. As she said these words, and others that seemed to dance in their ears, she distributed gifts. Starting with Tora, she gave her the hartbow and her quiver of arrows. To Cekiya, she gave her byrnie of elven mail. She also gave her a silver necklace, whispering she’d like Lady Cheselyne to have it as a memento of the elf. To Filen she gave her pens and ink, and Squire Uldis received a pearl. Then she turned to Kaelyn, told her her other dresses were already in her room, and that she also wished her to have the silver necklace with three emeralds. To Sir Baris, she gave her 12c bloodstone and told him the Elf & the Dwarf was his entirely. Lastly, she wished Sir Ewen luck in his plans, and gave him a small casket saying this might help. When he looked in it later, he found coins, Khuzan and otherwise, her gold necklace with a sapphire, and a silver necklace with an emerald – the emerald.

Then, with Melas following, Imarë Taërsi turned, and as she left Raven Hall, she called out, “farewell.”

In Memoriam

David Scott Turnbull

1962-2011