Lervin began clawing at his chest, never taking his eyes off me. His breath came in gasps as the color drained from his face, leaving his lips blue and puffy. Finally, he collapsed, twitching and spitting, as his overtaxed heart beat its last. I continued to watch him as he lay there on the floor. He had died much faster and easier than I had planned, but at least no one could accuse me of murder. The old bastard simply died of fright.
Letten and the enforcer, along with a few others, were trying to watch Lervin and me at the same time. Two other enforcers joined the first. They’re both older men, though still in their prime, and one of them was someone I know all too well.
“Monas,” I all but purred. “What are you still doing alive? I’d have thought someone’s husband would have put paid to you years ago.” Monas looked every bit as confused as Lervin had been. After all, he was the one who cut my throat and threw me over a cliff into the river.
Monas looked at me with wide eyes, then drew steel. More than a knife, but less than a sword, he’d used it on me ten years ago, but this time fear gripped him. Dead men do not, as a general rule, come back for a beer.
“You be dead! Dead!” His shouts were attracting the attention of the rest of the inn patrons. “I killed ye. I know I did.”
“Thank you, Monas. That confession is more than sufficient.” I moved my hand and flicked a small stiletto into his throat, returning his cut of years before. While he choked on my steel, the other two enforcers drew their blades and bracketed me. They might have tried to do me serious harm, and wound up dead for the effort, had the City Watch not arrived, slamming through the door.
“Stay where you are by order of High Laid Shanbelson!”
A woman I didn’t recognize was leading them, screaming, “Hurry! Hurry! Lervin is in trouble.” When she saw his dead body on the floor she began screaming, “Murdered! He’s murdered.”
The Watch Sergeant, who actually is a sergeant of the City Guard, came forward and examined the body. When he found no sign that Lervin had been attacked, he turned his attention to Monas. My knife stood like a standard in the center of Monas’ throat.
“Whose knife?” the sergeant asked, looking about the room. All fingers pointed at me. “Explain.” The sergeant was a man of few words.
“Ten years ago, Lervin tried to have me murdered.” I pulled my collar away from my throat to show a hastily contrived scar. “Monas and Stilmat slit my throat and dumped me over the cliff into the Brightslash. Monas isn’t very good at following through with things, fortunately for me. I recovered and have finally returned. Lervin died of a heart attack when he saw me, and Monas died of stupidity. He confessed, in front of everyone here, that he had tried to kill me.” I saw that the sergeant was still unsure, so I turned an eye on Letten. She started speaking rapidly, perhaps fearing that I might kill her as well.
“Lervin, he died just like this feller said. And Monas, he said that this feller couldn’t be alive cause he’d kill’t him. He did.” She was wide-eyed and looking about. Other customers nodded agreement with what she had said, and the sergeant shrugged.
“Good enough for me. I need a name for the report.” He pulled a rolled parchment out of his belt and looked expectantly at me.
“Drake Standralson.” At the mention of my name the sergeant’s head snapped up and his eyes widened. “Yes, that Drake Standralson. There are a lot of old debts for me to collect, though these is probably the messiest.”
“Laird Drake, welcome back. You look surprisingly good for a man ten years dead.” The sergeant was standing at attention, which surprised me. Then he smiled. “Laird Willowby will be ever so glad to see you.”
Willowby. I heaved a mighty sigh at the mention of his name. Laird Colem Willowby had been among the elite of Chanders society back then. “What is Laird Colem doing these days, Sergeant?”
“Laird Willowby is Minister of Finance, Laird Drake. His lovely wife will no doubt welcome your return as well.” His smile turned evil, and he wet his lips. Or perhaps he was licking away drool, thinking of the reward Danlin would bestow upon him if he killed me before I got to her.
I finished my beer in one gulp and stood, causing everyone near me to scamper back as far as they could. “Tell Colem that I’ll be waiting for him here. I have the paperwork to prove my ownership of the Stooping Falcon if there is any question as to my right to it.”
The sergeant shook his head. “I doubt anyone will wish to dispute your claim, Laird Drake. What of them?” He indicated the bodies on the floor with the rolled parchment.
“I would feed them to the pigs, but poisoned pork fetches no profit. Call the gravediggers. I can afford a couple of holes for them, in light of our past association.” The sergeant nodded and turned to go. His men looked confused for a moment when the woman who had fetched them began wailing again, but he didn’t turn back.
Letten was looking at the woman on the floor, then at me, then back to the woman. I was curious, so I asked the enforcers, “Who is she?”
“Lervin’s sister. She’s been living here for about a year,” the elder replied, never taking his eyes off her.
I remember her now. Windsom Collinsdaughter, Lervin’s elder sister, was all the family Lervin’d had left. She had aged as poorly as he had, and the old hag that knelt on the floor was not the old bitch who had once called me a leech.
I snapped, “Windsom!” and my voice cut through her wailing like a knife. “Cut the noise, or I’ll cut your throat. If I had proof that you had anything to do with Lervin trying to kill me, I’d turn you over to the magistrate. But I don’t. I don’t have a place for you here either, so gather your stuff and leave.”
Her face turned toward me, and for a moment I was almost tempted to relent. Then the old bat spat at me, and my resolve returned. I turned to the enforcers and pointed toward the younger one.
“You, what is your name?”
“My Mama calls me Jory, Lair’ Drake.”
“Jory, take this old hag to her room, let her get her clothes, then throw her out. She can find another to leech off.” My use of the term “leech” snapped her head around, but she held her tongue. When they had gone, I turned to the other enforcer. “And you are...?”
“My name is Ansenel Coopran, Laird Drake.” He was well spoken and had the look of a minor noble fallen on hard times. Or a noble bastard. The name Coopran didn’t have a familiar ring.
“Very well, Ansenel, carry on out here. I have books to look over.” Lervin may have been a thief and murderer, but he was a good businessman. Profits from the Falcon were what had led me into his company the last time I had been here.
In the office I found a surprise. “What is going on here?” I demanded loudly.
A young woman was bent over the table with her skirts flipped up onto her back. Her bare butt was shimmering in the candlelight, and I could see welts purpling into bruises. She didn’t turn or stand at the sound of my voice, but she did flinch. Then I saw the ropes that tied her ankles to the legs of the table. Moving around her I saw that her hands were similarly tied.
“Now why in the world did Lervin have you trussed up for punishment like this?” I asked.
Her face turned toward me, and I could see that both of her eyes had been blackened, and her lip was split. “Laird Combert complained about my performance last night and refused to pay Lervin, so he decided to take it out of my hide.” A tear slid down her cheek and dripped from the end of her nose.
Brutality disgusts me, so I freed her with a wave of my hand and cast a healing spell that would have her good as new by morning. I might not have had all the power I command as Amberdrake, but I was still an Adept Mage. “Straighten your clothes.” I waited until she looked up at me before I continued. “What is your status, young woman?”
“Indentured.” She continued to smooth her skirts, her hands in constant motion. “Who are you?”
“My name is Drake Standralson. I took over the Falcon from Lervin when he died. And your name?”
“Yes. They should be carrying his body out soon. Now again, what is your name?” I crossed my arms and waited. I am not a patient man, nor particularly kind. The girl had been offered or taken to settle a debt. That was fine and legal. But Lervin was breaking the law by beating her. She was not a slave.
“Brandis Signardsdotter.”
“And just how much did you cost the late and unlamented Lervin?” I liked the girl. The more I saw of her, the more I talked to her, the more I wanted to keep her around. But indentured meant that she could buy herself free.
“Fifty gold crowns, Master Drake.”
I felt my jaw sag open. “Fifty gold crowns? Girl, I’ll grant that you’re a fine little bit, but fifty gold is more than the Falcon is worth. What makes you worth so much, and where did Lervin come up with that sort of coin?”
“My father is High Laird Newberry Shanbelson, Master Drake.”
“You are his acknowledged bastard?”
She nodded once. “Yes, Master Drake. Lervin and some others wanted to shame him into doing something. When he wouldn’t cooperate, they put me to whoring, selling me cheap. Father’s enemies come here a lot.” She kept her head up, never looking away from my eyes. The girl has spirit, I have to give her that.
“Things have changed, Brandis. Go get cleaned up and tend to yourself. I am no whoremonger, and if Lervin has turned the Falcon into a whorehouse, it is going to change back.” Something in my face must have reassured her, because she smiled before she left.
I stuck my head out of the window into the main room and called, “Letten, bring me a beer.”
The account books kept me busy through the rest of the night. Lervin had been fanatical about his wealth and kept very exact records of each transaction. I found that Brandis had told me nothing less than the bare truth. Lervin and his cronies had bought her mother’s farm out from under her and forced her to offer Brandis as collateral to keep what was rightfully hers in the first place. Then they’d put Brandis on display, offering her to select clients, to shame High Laird Shanbelson. But their plan had failed. The High Laid had not given in to their demands in order to save his daughter’s disgrace, and the girl had been put out cheap as punishment.
All the employees of the Stooping Falcon were indentured. Even Monas had been bought for an old debt. Seventeen sparks left of two gold crowns? After over fifteen years? Where did his wages go?
Still, Lervin had left the Falcon unencumbered by debt. Profits were as to be expected. That would change when I announced the girls were not for sale with the beer anymore. If they wanted to continue on their own, as I suspected Letten would, then that would be their own business.
I walked into the main room early the next morning and found the entire staff gathered and waiting for me. “Good morning. I have spent the night with Lervin’s account books. Each of you know your status here. There are going to be some changes, though. As of now, any whoring you do will be on your own, and on your own time.” They looked at one another, then at me again. “I want to know who each of you is, and how you got here, but that will wait. For now, I want Lervin’s room cleared out. I will be in the back second-floor guest room when you are done.” I scanned the faces and picked out Brandis.
“Brandis, can you write?” The insulted look on her face was answer enough, and I smiled. “Very well. Put a sign out that the Falcon is closed today. Letten,” I waited until I had her attention, “I want fresh bedding and linens. Send Lervin’s clothes to the poorhouse, unless you want some reminder of him.” The sour look on her face said more about that idea than words ever could. “The rest of you clean this sty up. Lervin let the Falcon slip, but I want a semi-respectable establishment. Wake me for the midday meal.” With that I turned and headed up the stairs. I did not require a great deal of sleep, but I did require some.
I awoke to the feel of a hand on my shoulder and the smell of cava. “Master Drake? It’s midday.” I rolled over and found Brandis standing just out of arm’s reach, holding a tray. The smell of the cava woke me far faster than her voice or hand. I pointed to the table and she deposited the tray, then left. I quickly dressed and went to check on the progress in Lervin’s room.
The room that Lervin had kept for himself was a suite that took up the entire front of the second floor, and had a window that looked out over the main room, as well as two windows looking out to the street. It was split in to a main room and a sleeping room, with the sleeping room being the same size and shape as the good rooms that share the second floor. Letten and the others had cleaned out most of Lervin’s things, leaving behind anything that might be of value. I’m sure they took a few things that fit conveniently into a pocket or pouch, but I didn’t mind. I’d probably be throwing out most of his junk in the near future.
I walked downstairs and found the staff busily cleaning the main room. Tables and chairs were stacked against the walls while the middle of the floor was being holystoned. The stones were scraping up large gobs of spoiled food and beer, along with what I suspect to be less wholesome things. Letten approached me with a girl that I had not met that morning.
“Master Drake, this be Candry. She’s the girl what sees to the stock and stables.”
Candry showed all the signs of a hasty bath. Dirt smears were still on her neck, and her hair was hanging limp. “And?” I find that a single word, with the right inflection, can ask many questions.
Candry stepped forward and bobbed an approximation of a curtsy. “Master Drake, I wants to come inside now. I been in ta stables fer a year. I wants ta make good and buy free.” She was obviously looking for something else, but it didn’t come to my mind what it could be. Brandis stopped briefly to look at us, then passed on. The look on her face was noncommittal, but it alerted me to something. Candry had a distinct cast to her features, but I could not identify it.
“How did you end up indentured to Lervin?” I asked.
“My ma sold me, that’s how.” Her face took on an unpleasant look, and I wondered how her mother would fare when she bought free.
“For what? And who is your father?” I am aware that many indentured servants consider themselves to be sold, but slaves are completely different.
“To Silasten Coronadoson, the Ice Laird, for a fist-bag of ice. And don’t ask ‘bout my father. I don’t know who he was. Ma don’t know neither. But I has ta come inside if I is ta buy free.” Her face was pleading more than her voice but pleading women didn’t affect me as they once did.
“You will have to stay in the stables for now. There is no one to replace you. But, I will allow you to come inside occasionally if the stables are kept up. And you bathe better than you did this time.” I looked at Candry closely and saw her blush.
Both women bobbed and left me alone to explore the rest of the inn. Lervin had made a few improvements over the years, and I find the addition of indoor privies to be the most significant. I used my extra senses to explore his office and room and found a number of hidden cubbies filled with gold, silver, and in one case, parchments.
The parchments surprised me until I read some of them. Lervin had accumulated evidence against several major lairds and was using it to blackmail them. I’m not surprised to see that he concentrated on lairds who were considered “respectable.” I thought for a moment, then put them back. In time I would return the documents to the lairds in question, but for now I would hold onto them. You never knew when a little leverage, or gratitude, might come in handy.
Lervin’s accounts listed eleven servants, all indentured. Monas, Ansenel, and Jory Manstanson are the only men, unsurprisingly enough. Letten Wentersdaughter and five other women who had been serving last night supplemented Brandis Signardsdotter, and Candry Lerinsdotter.
I decided to take the time and interview each of the other women. Elanste Frandran was the eldest, being nearly thirty. She was a fine-looking wench, but her temper showed. She had been placed in d
ebt by the Cloth Merchant’s Guild for destroying a loom in a fit of anger. She was the cook.
Portence Delnet was a fluffy little bit with the mouth of a sailor and breath that would gag a maggot. Her debt was due to her husband’s gambling.
Xendra Sedransdotter had been indentured to pay past taxes on her father’s farm. She was an altogether unremarkable woman with a placid face and dirt brown hair.
Amber Rose was a blond with a taste for beer and had drunk her way into debt to Lervin without help from anyone else. Her name caused me to pause, remembering the other Amber who had so briefly held my heart.
The last was a dusky-skinned woman with coal-black hair and a smoldering look that warned me she’s trouble. Her name was Gatherndis Dandersplant. A trader who had claimed she owed him money had sold her to Lervin cheap. She was a foreigner, from a land far to the southeast, and hadn’t had anyone to speak for her.
I continued my assessment of the Falcon after an unremarkable meal of boiled bison and vegetables. The Falcon was a surprisingly large building, measuring twenty-eight cubits wide by seventy cubits long, consisting of three floors.
The ground floor had the main room in the front, with my office, the kitchen and pantry, privies, and the cheap rooms along a hall that leads to the stables. The cheap rooms were still large by the standards of most inns, being a solid six cubits by ten cubits. The stables consisted of eight normal stalls and one large box stall that adjoined the hen house. The hen house fitted in behind and under the stairs to the second floor.
The second floor was where the good rooms are, as well as my own. There were only four good rooms, being larger and more comfortable than the rooms on the main floor. The bathing room was also on this floor, as well as access to the hayloft and the stairs to the attic and servants’ rooms.
The Chronicles of Amberdrake Page 37