by Gareth Lewis
*
Many trades had been lost with the Shattering, street cleaning among them. Other trades, such as information brokering, had adapted. It still, inevitably, occurred in private rooms, often with a thug or two looming in the background.
Ignoring the thug, or bodyguard as Prialtys would undoubtedly label him, Skerin focussed his attention on his host.
Her red hair cut short, Prialtys’ face was blank as she regarded him, giving away absolutely nothing for free. He remembered her from the old days, but doubted she’d been aware of him. She’d been too busy becoming one of the city’s bosses. While she’d ultimately failed, she’d been one of the rare ones who survived such a failure, although the scar down the left of her face reminded her of it. A gift from Brak. That made her the obvious source for information on him. She’d since secured a profitable niche as one of the city’s main information brokers.
Having finished counting his money, she held his gaze, the coins still on the table between them.
“Why the interest in Brak?” she said.
“What’ll you pay for that information?” said Skerin.
She offered a faint smile. “I’m raising the price for my information. It occurred to me that I’m taking quite a risk, should Brak learn it came from me.”
“You stated a fair price,” he nodded at the money.
“You’re free to take it and leave.”
Was she bluffing? Probably. It was a significant amount of money. But the information wouldn’t cost much, and he needed to know her response.
Scowling as he pretended to consider it, Skerin waited before replying.
“A young scientist,” he said. “Studying Naming. Brak was establishing himself, so the stories hadn’t gone beyond rumours. They beat the boy, and... the rest. Left him to bleed to death in the gutter.” He went quiet, allowing his real anger to show, controlled and upset at having to recall events.
Prialtys nodded. Brak’s reaction towards Namers was now well known. It was a poorly-kept secret that a prophecy said Brak would lose his power to a Namer. As a result, he took measures to deal with any Namer in the city. Even the other bosses avoided interfering if he heard of one on their turf. They didn’t always die at his hand, but he always took their tongue, to stop it being turned against him.
“Who was he to you?” said Prialtys.
“Does it matter?” said Skerin, his eyes hard.
Prialtys shrugged. “Suppose not. Rolk Darnen. That’s his real name.”
Skerin nodded, rising.
“Are you also a Namer?” said Prialtys.
He met her gaze. “What’s it worth?”
She held his gaze a moment, before shrugging. “Curiosity is an occupational hazard.”
Nodding, he turned and left.
Rolk Darnen. It sounded right for the area in which he’d grown up. So Rolk was probably a contemporary. It definitely wasn’t Brak’s name, but he hadn’t expected it would be. Prialtys may hate Brak, but she had financial problems, and she’d put aside feelings where money was involved.
It was a couple of minutes before he spotted the tail. It’d be one of Prialtys’ men rather than one of Brak’s. If she’d already informed him, he’d have set a trap. Skerin had examined the place before going in, to make sure it wasn’t. No, Prialtys would want all the information, including where he was staying, before approaching Brak. Having given him a false name would be a bonus.
So the bait had been taken. Well worth the cost, provided things went as planned.