by M. Gregg Roe
“Saxloc!” she barked as she walked toward him.
He gave her a startled look. “Yes?”
“After your dates, did you ever walk Rosalind home?”
The question clearly surprised him. “No. I offered each time, but she refused.”
“Good. That explains why you never noticed that she doesn’t have personal Novox insurance. She apparently gets robbed frequently and simply hands over all of her money.”
“You’re kidding!”
“No. Forget about Audrey for the moment. Go over to Novox and pay for Rosalind’s insurance. Then I want you to investigate her employer. Unofficially. There is something not right there. The amount they are paying Rosalind is much too low, but she is too ineffectual to have noticed.”
She was pleased by the look of determination on her son’s face as he promptly replied, “Yes, Mother. I’ll see to it.”
“I know you will.”
Almera turned and walked out. She had discovered something else surprising about Rosalind, but now clearly wasn’t the time to mention it. One thing at a time.
6
‡ Luck ‡
Gabriel grimaced as the sword slammed into his right side. Despite the leather armor, he would probably end up bruised. He didn’t mind getting hit while training, or even being soundly beaten. It was all a learning experience, and he needed to face superior opponents in order to hone his skills. But losing to his own mother was depressing, even if she was very experienced. Deep down, he felt that he really should be able to defeat a woman who was more than twice his age.
“Your follow-through was too extreme,” said Medea helpfully. “You left yourself open.”
“Thank you,” replied Gabriel. “I will try to work on that.”
He readied himself and nodded at her. Seconds later he was flat on his back with the blunted tip of his mother’s practice longsword at his throat and her left foot on his right wrist. She had used her speed and momentum to drive her shield into him and then used the flat of her sword to sweep his legs from behind. He outweighed his mother substantially and was certainly stronger, but he simply couldn’t match her speed. Or her inventiveness—she had never done that to him before.
Medea stepped back, dropped her sword, and then her shield. She took off her leather helmet and shook her head to straighten her long auburn hair. There were a few strands of gray in it now, but Gabriel thought that his mother still looked remarkably beautiful for a woman her age.
“Watch out for that too,” she told him. “Properly used, a shield can knock an opponent down or force them back. In the right situation, you can force someone off of a cliff or into a pit. I can see you’re getting tired, Gabriel. That’s enough for today.”
Gabriel let go of his sword and shield and carefully stood up. He was feeling both tired and bruised, but that was hardly unusual. If he was too badly bruised, then he would ask his mother to heal him, because she was also a spell-caster. Gabriel nodded at her. “That is fine. I will take care of things. You may go ahead and clean up.”
“Thank you, my polite son. I will do just that and then start lunch.” She quickly peeled off the separate pieces of her leather armor, letting each fall to the ground, before turning and walking away.
After removing his own armor, Gabriel carefully cleaned the individual pieces and stowed them away. He picked up his bundle of clean clothes and then headed to the castle’s men’s bathing area to wash up and soak. It was all very familiar; he trained nearly every day. It was also relaxing and gave him time to think.
His most recent adventure had involved fighting a great many undead, and he actually had employed his shield to drive a number of wolf skeletons back through a doorway so that he could enter. It simply hadn’t occurred him to that his mother would employ that tactic.
The lunch his mother prepared was delicious. He was pleasantly surprised that his sister was not only present but fairly well behaved. Marryn’s behavior was becoming a problem for all of them. She was rebellious, disobedient, and even rude at times. Gabriel just couldn’t understand her. He would never disobey his parents, especially his mother.
After lunch, Gabriel went outside the Witch’s Castle to the market area outside. He seldom purchased anything there; he simply enjoyed browsing and watching the people. But he soon spotted something that concerned him: His sister Marryn was standing in the jewelry section of the market conversing with Cinda. The last time he had seen the two of them speaking like that, it had ended in an altercation. He desperately wanted to get close enough to hear what the two of them were saying, but the noise of the market made that impossible. They were bound to notice him. Instead, he casually worked his way closer while frequently glancing their way.
Gabriel breathed a sigh of relief as the two parted smiling. He watched as his sister headed toward the clothing section—another one of her favorites—and was promptly accosted by their mother, looking very stern. She had clearly been keeping an eye on Marryn as well.
“Master Gabriel. Good day to you.”
There was no mistaking Cinda’s voice, and he gave her a sidelong startled look before turning to face her. Clad in an elegant black cloak, she sported a mischievous smile. Gabriel always felt uncomfortable around her because of what she did for a living, and Cinda, unfortunately, was well aware of that fact.
It was bad luck, but that was normal for Gabriel. Growing up, his mother had frequently told stories that illustrated her own abysmal luck. Medea always seemed to be the one who set off traps, was caught unawares, or was struck by one of Albert’s poorly-aimed spells. Bad luck wasn’t supposed to be hereditary, but Gabriel didn’t know how else to explain his own misfortune. Enemies seemed to selectively target him. He dropped his sword at inopportune times (and in one case spent the entire melee trying to retrieve it). He always seemed to be the one to be stunned, paralyzed, or poisoned. Things went wrong for him so often that his companions weren’t even surprised anymore.
“Good day to you, Mistress Cinda,” replied Gabriel, matching her formal speech and smiling pleasantly. It was a bad sign that she looked to be in a playful mood.
Cinda raised her left eyebrow. “Pray tell, Master Gabriel. Were you spying on your sister, or upon myself?”
“My sister,” he replied hurriedly. “I was concerned that she might—”
“Call me a whore? Assault my person?”
“Yes.” Marryn had done both of those previously.
Cinda put her right hand over her mouth and laughed delicately. “Be not concerned. Mistress Marryn simply wished to know more of my employment. She inquired as to the number of men with whom I have copulated. Would you care to know as well?”
Gabriel dearly wished that someone—anyone—would show up and interrupt them. Cinda was simply smiling primly, but he knew his face must be bright red. And the worst part was that he really was curious. But there was no way that he would ever admit that.
“No answer? I shall tell you anyway. Twenty-two. That includes five of my fellow courtesans. Mistress Marryn was surprised that the number was not higher, but I explained that our services are expensive and that many of my clients are regulars. I have also copulated with three women,” she concluded with a proud look.
“I see,” he managed to say, wondering how it was possible for two women to copulate. “That is impressive.”
“It is.” Cinda smiled saucily at him. “Master Gabriel, perhaps you might be number twenty-three? Would you not care to sample my skills? I guarantee that you will not be disappointed.”
Gabriel simply stared at her in shock, unable to stop his imagination from running wild. Cinda had teased him before, but not to such an extent. But even if she was serious in her offer, he had an out. He bowed his head slightly. “I regret that I am unable to afford your services at this time, Mistress Cinda.”
“Perhaps you might borrow sufficient funds from him?” she asked, nodding to her right.
“Sorry to interrupt,” said Saxloc as he walked
up to them with a harried look. “Cinda, I need to speak with Gabriel.”
“Very well, Master Saxloc.” She looked directly at Gabriel. “Begin to save sufficient funds,” she ordered, before turning abruptly and walking away.
“What was that about?” asked Saxloc.
“Never mind. Is something the matter?”
“Yes. There’s an issue with Rosalind and Sharp Edges. I need your help.”
“You have it.”
He didn’t care what Saxloc wanted; he was just grateful to be free of Cinda.
♦ ♦ ♦
Marryn had gotten away with lying to her mother earlier that day, but it wasn’t working now. Her desk and bed were covered with tax forms, none of which she had obtained properly or had permission to look at. But it had been a chance too good to pass up. It was an opportunity to impress the young man that she one day hoped to marry.
“Saxloc asked me to look at these,” she explained, trying to look innocent.
“Saxloc doesn’t have permission to see these either,” said Medea in an ominous voice. “How did you obtain them?”
“Colin!” said Marryn abruptly. “I asked him to get them for me.” There was no point in trying to hide it now.
“In exchange for?”
“Some kissing. That’s all.”
Her mother’s intense frown of disapproval was not promising. “Now who is acting like a whore?” she demanded.
“It’s just kissing!”
“And what if he wants more? You have no self-defense skills.”
“It’s Colin!” protested Marryn. “He just has a crush on me. He’s shy!”
“Yes, but I am trying to make a point.” Medea sighed and shook her head. “Are you certain that Sharp Edges is cheating on their taxes?”
Now Marryn was on familiar territory. “Yes, but I haven’t uncovered the full extent yet. I’ll return everything tomorrow morning. And I’ll apologize to Lothar.” But she really didn’t like the creepy little bald man that ran the Witch’s City Tax Office as if it was his personal property.
“Yes, and also to Colin.”
“Of course. Can I get back to work? This may take a while.”
Medea sighed again. “Just don’t stay up all night. Tomorrow, your father will take what you’ve found to Ermizad. She will decide what action to take.”
As soon as her mother had departed, Marryn sat down on the floor next to her bed feeling weak. She might just get away with it after all, although there would probably be some form of punishment coming.
Spotting Saxloc outside the tax office looking frustrated had been like a gift from the gods. She promptly volunteered to help him but was certainly surprised by the subject. Sharp Edges was her brother’s favorite shop, and probably Saxloc’s too. At any rate, Saxloc had no real idea of how to even go about the investigation.
Marryn knew exactly how. She loved numbers and mathematics. They were nice, neat, and logical. There was only ever one right answer. That was also why she liked Sparrow—her favorite game by far. It was complicated, but the rules were precise.
As far as Saxloc was concerned, Marryn had come up with a plan two years ago when she turned twelve. She would marry into wealth and then use her skills to manage the household and estate. Saxloc was her prime candidate, but she hadn’t stopped there. She had files on virtually every single wealthy man in town, and age wasn’t necessarily an issue. If he died before her, so much the better. She could remarry or simply take a lover. But gathering that information hadn’t been easy, and had gotten her into trouble on several occasions.
Saxloc had been concerned about a young woman named Rosalind, and Marryn had already determined that she was being paid less than any of the other clerks. That, surprisingly, was clear from the shop’s tax filings. It wasn’t illegal, but it was unforgivable in her opinion. And mean. Marryn really didn’t want to help Rosalind, because she was a threat to her plans, but impressing Saxloc was more important.
Marryn’s real problem was her age. Her parents insisted that she not date until she turned sixteen, and they simply wouldn’t listen to reason. She might only be fourteen, but she was a mature fourteen. She had already seen several possible husbands taken by other women and really didn’t want to wait. Both Rosalind and that horrible girl Audrey were after Saxloc, despite the fact that she was the one who had grown up knowing him. It was depressing. She hadn’t given up, but it might already be too late to snare him.
Earlier that day, she had learned a number of things from Cinda, who Marryn now realized was smarter than she appeared. She had hoped to learn about wealthy men making use of Desires’ services who might want that fact kept secret, because she was not above using blackmail to achieve her ends. Due to some kind of confidentiality guarantee, Cinda wouldn’t tell her anything about that. But Marryn had learned that the minimum age to become a courtesan was only fifteen. That suggested another possibility. She could apply there, receive an offer, and then threaten to accept it if her parents didn’t capitulate and let her start dating. And if she had to back up her threat, that was fine too. Desires paid amazingly well, and Cinda had told her that many courtesans ended up marrying former clients.
One way or another, Marryn was going to get her way.
7
‡ Rosalind ‡
Saxloc had gone from irritation at his mother’s interference to feeling real concern for Rosalind. Something was definitely not right at Sharp Edges, and he feared that the owner might suspect Rosalind now. Sharing his concern, Gabriel had promptly volunteered to keep an eye on things there.
A former employee of the shop confirmed that personal insurance wasn’t provided. He had quit his job there because of low pay despite earning substantially more than Rosalind was now. Thinking back, Saxloc realized that Sharp Edges had a high turnover of clerks compared to other businesses he was familiar with.
Getting Marryn to investigate the tax filings had been a lucky break. It had been Hankin’s suggestion, but Saxloc had to admit that he really didn’t know how to go about it. And they certainly hadn’t been very friendly at the tax office. Marryn was usually a pest, but she did know all about taxes and finances.
Saxloc’s solution to needing to speak to Rosalind had been to go to Sharp Edges himself. While there, he asked her out to dinner, delighting her and looking natural since the two of them had been dating.
Rosalind’s appearance when she showed up at The Watch to meet him was a surprise. She was wearing a pale pink dress that he had never seen before. It was both more expensive and more revealing than anything he had ever seen her wear. She also looked to have spent a great deal of time on her hair, making use of silver hair clips to style it. He thought that she looked quite nice, cute even. But it was a bad sign overall, indicating her continuing interest in him.
The restaurant wasn’t crowded, and the two of them were soon seated opposite each other at a small table. Looking nervous, Rosalind began to rub her left wrist with her right hand. It was a habit of hers that he had seen before. He ordered the chicken and noodles, and, as always, Rosalind chose the same meal. He complimented her appearance and made small talk while they waited for their rice wine to arrive. Once it did, he started the real conversation.
“How was work today?” he asked while maintaining a friendly smile.
“Buris scolded me for taking such a long morning break,” she told him with a sad look. “I had to take a short lunch and didn’t get an afternoon break.”
“Rosalind, I want you to quit your job at Sharp Edges. You are being underpaid. And other shops that size pay their employee’s insurance.”
“But the last time I asked for a raise Buris said that Sharp Edges wasn’t doing well,” she objected.
That was clearly a lie on the owner’s part; Saxloc had gone by where he lived, and it was quite luxurious. “It’s possible that Buris was lying. I’ve got someone looking into the matter.”
Tears began to fill Rosalind’s eyes as she said, “I can’t qu
it. That was the only job I could find.”
“I’ll help you find another job—one that pays better.”
“How long will that take? My rent is due soon. I’ll lose my apartment.” She glanced down briefly. “I shouldn’t have bought this dress. It took all of my savings. Do you think they will take it back?”
Rosalind was crying now, and Saxloc felt guilty. He hadn’t realized how truly poor she was. “I can give you money,” he offered. “I paid for your personal Novox insurance this morning.”
“You shouldn’t have done that!” she protested. “I don’t want charity.”
It wasn’t the response he had expected. He had always worried that anyone he dated would only feign interest in him because of his parents’ wealth. Rosalind, remarkably, seemed to hold similar views as Audrey, which meant that she really was interested in him. That was a definite surprise.
Saxloc smiled gently. “Then I will loan you money and you can pay it back.”
Rosalind wiped her eyes and hesitated a long while before saying, “Okay, but I’m still going to try to return this dress.”
The waitress brought their food, giving Rosalind a concerned look before departing. They both began to eat, and he could see that there was nothing wrong with her appetite. After they had finished, she asked him a question that stunned him.
“Your mother said that because I can sense magic it means I’m a spell-caster. Is that true?”
She looked very earnest as Saxloc just sat and gaped at her. “You can sense magic?” he finally managed to ask.
“Yes. It’s kind of like a glow, but I feel it instead of seeing it. You have it, but the waitress doesn’t.”
That was exactly right, but she had never mentioned anything like that before. “You’ve never had any training?” he asked.