Death & Magic (The Barefoot Healer, volume I)

Death & Magic chapter 39

Chapter 39

All Gods’ Day dawned, bright and warm. Midsummer was not far off now. After wolfing down breakfast, Adramal and Perinar left Kyturil.

As they neared the junction where the track from Kyturil joined the main road, they heard a horse galloping behind them. They turned just in time to see the animal charge past, the rider bent so far forward as to be hugging her neck.

“Wasn’t that the stable master?” said Perinar.

Adramal shrugged. “He was going too fast to get a good look at him.”

They walked on. Second watch sounded when they were about a mile from the gate. Inside the city, she bade him farewell and wandered through the Eastern Market, not really looking at any of the stalls. She found her way to the bank of Drakhshaf and Speph, a few streets from the eastern docks. The building was small and squat, with bars on the windows. She sighed as she joined the queue, which stretched down the street. At least that would provide some plausible delay while she did her “shopping.”

When she eventually reached the counter, she presented her account token and requested a draft for twenty-five silvers and thirty in cash. The clerk gave her a suspicious look, as though thinking her too young to command such vast sums, but did as she asked. She went to the tavern next door, The Dancing Bears, where Tagahra had said a Watchman would meet her.

She hoped he wouldn’t be long. The tavern seemed to slouch between the buildings on either side, as though they were holding up a wounded comrade. Inside, the floor sloped. The few patrons were Salmarians, judging from their particoloured clothing and full beards. She hoped no one would recognise her from the embassy.

She supposed, in order not to look totally out of place, she should buy some beer. As she edged towards the bar, a man called out, “A pint of best for my niece!”

She turned to see Watchman Morakh, sitting apart from most of the other customers. She hadn’t recognised him out of uniform. He motioned her to join him.

“Hello, uncle,” she said as she sat down. “It’s good to see you again. How are you?” That must sound so false. No one’s going to believe I’m his niece. I don’t look anything like him. I don’t sound anything like him.

“I’m well, thank you,” he said. “I trust you are too?”

“Yes.” The barman set a large, heavy mug of dark ale in front of her. Morakh handed over a couple of coins. “Thank you,” said Adramal. She took a sip, shuddering at its strong, bitter taste.

“A Salmarian recipe,” Morakh said. “You might have to get used to it.”

She put the mug back down and gave him a quizzical look.

“An acquaintance of mine from Vannharial is looking for a tutor for his children. He’s willing to pay well, and it’s only two hours a day.”

She swigged as much of her ale as she could stand, and asked, “Is this acquaintance in the city now?”

“Yes.”

She stood up. “Then why don’t we go and meet him?”

Morakh took her by a very roundabout route to the Watch’s headquarters. At every turn, her head swayed with the effects of the ale. When Morakh asked for Captain Tagahra, the Duty Sergeant said he had been called away a short while ago, and told them to wait in Tagahra’s office.

“He’d better not be long,” Adramal muttered as she and Morakh went upstairs.

“He is a very busy man,” said Morakh. “These murders aren’t the only crimes he’s investigating.”