There was something decidedly enigmatic about Katryn. Over the previous days, Chip had found a dry, understated sense of humor, coupled with quick wits and sharp observation skills. It was a description that could apply to many Rangers, but Katryn was quiet and unassuming—and that was unusual. Rangers tended to bravado. It was not easy to earn the right to the green and gray uniform, and most Rangers took every opportunity to flaunt it.
Katryn’s behavior was atypical of Rangers in other ways. Chip had not seen Katryn drink more than two tankards of beer in an evening. The women who were drawn by her good looks and uniform wasted their time. The nearest Katryn had come to showing anger was when a groom gave soiled oats to her horse, and the anger had shown itself only in her clipped tone as she watched over the replacement of the feed. It was an awkward fact that Chip’s initial attraction to Katryn’s appearance had been strengthened by knowing her better as a person.
They rode on in silence until they reached the first outlying buildings of the city. The road squeezed between the crooked, overcrowded shanties of the poorest laborers. These constructions looked as though they could be washed away in a storm, but soon, the houses became more substantial. As they approached the river, they occasionally saw run-down mansions—relics from the days when the north side of the Liffey had been a prestigious neighborhood, before it had been swallowed by the expanding slums. They reached a band of docks and warehouses; then the buildings fell away on either side to be replaced by a view over the river. It was slow progress making headway on the overcrowded bridge, but at last, they crossed into the heart of the city.
Ahead, the great temple to Celaeno dominated the skyline. The street was wide and crowded. Waves of screams, shouts and laughter rose on all sides. Women, children and crones swarmed over the cobblestones. Chip’s eyes took in the scene. Her stomach churned. It was so familiar, and the most awful thing was that she could almost feel she belonged there. It was so tempting to search out the memories: the tavern where she had first gotten drunk; the small upstairs room where she had first made love; the cold doorway where she had cried and slept on a wet, miserable night.
“Um…ma’am. Do you know where we’re going?” Katryn asked hesitantly.
“Yes.” Chip forced her thoughts to the present.
Even without Chip’s knowledge of Landfall, their first destination was easy to find. All the main roads converged on the old market. Just before they came to it, Chip turned aside into a smaller street and then through an archway leading to a gravel square. Around it were the offices of the joint military command complex. The two Rangers slipped from their saddles, hitched their horses to posts and went through the nearest door.
They had to repeat their story several times, but eventually, they were shown in to see a Militia lieutenant seated at a desk. She listened to what they had to say, read the dispatch from Captain LeCoup and scribbled a note. “Of course we’ll do what we can to help. We can give you billets and stables, and this will get you fed in the mess.” She offered the sheet to Chip. “I’ll have someone show you where everything is.”
“Thank you, ma’am.”
The lieutenant walked to the doorway and called to an orderly. She glanced at LeCoup’s report once more before returning it to Chip. “Coppelli? You know that’s a distinguished name in Landfall?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
The orderly arrived and led them outside to reclaim their horses. The stables were the first stop, followed by a short tour of the site. Conversation was limited to the practical, most of which Chip already knew. The room they were finally shown into was on the third story of a block behind the mess hall. It was small but very clean, with scrubbed wooden floorboards. The only things in it were two unmade bunks and a chest. A tall window was opposite the door.
When the orderly had gone, Chip threw open the shutters and leaned her shoulder against the frame. Late-afternoon sunlight flooded in; with it came the sounds and smells of the city…and memories. She was back in Landfall again. Chip stuck her head out, taking in the full panorama. Little more than a view of rooftops was on offer, but if she twisted her neck, she could just catch sight of one corner of the temple.
Katryn dropped her saddlebag on the chest and stood in the middle of the room. “What do we do now, ma’am?”
Chip turned around. She felt tired and sticky after the days on the road, and if you could not avoid civilization, you might as well make the most of what advantages it held. She knew exactly what she wanted to do.
“There is a really first-class bathhouse around the corner. I want to get clean.” Chip spoke with feeling.
Katryn smiled. “That sounds like a good idea.”
It then occurred to Chip that maybe it was not.
*
Chip sat on the bench with her back against the wall, feeling the sweat bead and trickle all over her skin, taking with it the dust, odors and muscle aches of the journey. Her eyes were closed. It was safest that way. A fine mist of steam filled the hot room of the baths, condensing on the mosaic wall tiles and occasionally dripping from the ceiling. It carried a clean lemon scent. And it did very little to obscure visibility. Chip had tried not to make too obvious a point of not looking in Katryn’s direction—and not to make her response too evident when she did.
Three other women who had been sitting nearby got up and waddled off toward the cold pool, feet slapping, still gossiping about the affairs of their acquaintances. Katryn took advantage of the space left by their departure to lie face down on the bench, her head buried in her arms. Chip took advantage of Katryn’s pose to stare at her. She could not help herself; the rest of Katryn’s body was as perfect as her face. Chip’s examination started at the ankles and traveled slowly upward, pausing only briefly at the bottom. The skin of Katryn’s back was flawless. Whatever else, she had never been flogged. Chip felt painfully guilty about the shameless ogling—and even more guilty about wanting proof that Katryn had not been court-martialed.
Katryn turned her head. Chip tried to pretend that she had been staring blankly into the distance.
“What the lieutenant said about the name ‘Coppelli,’” Katryn began, “I’ve been trying to think where I’ve heard it. Wasn’t it the name of the previous mayor of Landfall? The one who held the post for years?”
“Yes.” Chip closed her eyes, but for a different reason than before.
“I don’t suppose you’re related?”
Chip bit her lip. “My birth mother.”
“What?” Katryn’s head shot up. “Aren’t the family incredibly rich? Don’t they own half of Landfall?”
“No, no, you’re thinking of the Tangs. They’re the really wealthy ones—my gene mother’s family.” Without looking, Chip knew that Katryn’s jaw would be hanging open. She went on. “Now you’re going to ask what someone from my background is doing as a sergeant in the Rangers.” Chip met Katryn’s astounded gaze. “It’s simple: I’m running away from home.”
Katryn dropped her eyes. “I’m sorry, ma’am. I didn’t mean to pry.”
Chip laughed, happy to have something else to focus on. “For the love of the Goddess, drop the ‘ma’am.’ We are definitely off duty at the moment.”
Katryn smiled and laid her head back on her arms. “We could discuss mission plans for tomorrow.”
“Not much to plan. First, we’ll talk to the merchant, Mistress Drummond. I’ve got her address. Then we’ll talk to the local Militia captain. And then we’ll pick up on any leads we get.” Chip settled back against the wall. “How far is it to Woodside from here?”
“A day and a half to the south. Why?” Katryn suddenly sounded defensive.
“We might need to go there. Talk to more people who know the suspects.” Chip glanced over. “It would be a good excuse for you to visit your family.”
“I’m not too bothered about that.” Katryn’s voice was muffled by her arms, but her unease was unmistakable.
Chip pursed her lips; obviously, she was not the only
one who lacked fond memories of home. “On the short-term plans, when we leave here, we can get a meal. I know I’ve got a chit for the mess, but there are some wonderful eating places in Landfall, and they won’t even make too big a dent in a Ranger’s pay.”
Katryn turned her head on one side, smiling again. “Great. I could do with getting something inside me.”
Chip thought about that statement for a few seconds. Then she got up and jumped in the cold plunge pool.
*
Early the next day, they set out on foot. The merchant had a large property in the slightly less fashionable part of town. It was on one of the older streets, close by the temple. For years, the area had been in decline, but as Chip led the way on the short walk, she noted signs of money flowing back. Several facades were freshly painted; repairs on one rooftop were under way.
Their destination looked much like its neighbors. Chip and Katryn were led into a large open hallway and asked to wait while a servant went in search of Mistress Drummond. Chip looked around. Like its surroundings, the inside of the building had the air of a place undergoing alterations. She guessed that Drummond’s fortunes were changing, but whether the direction of the change was up or down was harder to tell.
It was not long before the two Rangers were escorted into a counting room. A middle-aged woman rose from her ledgers to greet them. She was overweight and overdressed and made the expansive gestures of a market trader. “Ladies, how may I assist you?” Her eyes narrowed. “I assume your visit has something to do with the appalling events in Redridge?”
“Yes, ma’am.” Chip spoke formally. “We have a few questions.”
Chip did not get the chance to go further. Drummond leaped in. “It was shocking. Business has been going well, but there’s no way I can afford losses like that. And three of my employees dead! What do I tell their families? When the news came, I couldn’t believe it. Nothing like this has ever happened to me before, and it wouldn’t have happened this time if Grosskopf had listened to me.”
“Grosskopf?” Chip queried.
“The buyer in Fairfield. Going via Redridge was her idea. She said it would be cheaper to take the river to Petersmine and cut down on the land part of the journey, even though it meant crossing that high pass. I’d have sent the shipment via Fort Krowe. You don’t get bandits hanging around there. When Clarinda told me the Militia was trying to find the murderers on their own, I knew it wouldn’t work and they’d have to call in the Rangers.”
Chip managed to get a word in. “That would be Clarinda Wright?”
“Yes. Praise the Goddess that she survived. My business has suffered enough without losing one of my best workers.”
The description of the suspect clearly astonished Katryn. Her eyes narrowed as a disbelieving frown creased her forehead. The response was noticed, and Drummond faltered, her own expression less confident.
“Has she been with you long?” Chip asked in the sudden silence.
Drummond’s eyes flicked between the two Rangers. “Just over a year.” The abrupt cut-off in the flow of words was conspicuous.
“And she has been a reliable worker?”
“Yes. I don’t employ people I don’t trust.”
“I wonder if it would be possible to talk to her? Or the other survivor?”
“I’m afraid not.” Drummond’s composure and talkativeness returned in a rush. “After what they’d been through, it was only right to let them take a short holiday. In my experience, it pays to treat your staff sympathetically. You can’t expect loyalty if you don’t act like someone it’s worth being loyal to. When Clarinda came to me last week and asked for a month’s leave to go and visit her relatives, I agreed, of course; and Nosheen went as well.”
“Her relatives? That would be in Woodside?”
Again, Drummond hesitated, but she recovered quickly. “Yes…yes, I think that’s where she said. It was definitely to the south of here. But my foreman in the warehouse spoke to them at length before they went. Maybe she could answer your questions about the robbery. I’ll send—”
Chip cut in before Drummond got going again. “I’m afraid it was those two we really wanted to get in contact with. It seems as if we might have to follow them to Woodside. If they return early, could you send word to us at military command?”
“Yes, of course, Sergeant Coppelli. And I’m not going to forget that name. You know that the last—”
“Yes,” Chip interrupted. “Well, thank you for your time, ma’am.”
The two Rangers said nothing until they were out of the building, surrounded by the midmorning bustle on the street. Katryn voiced their joint impression. “I don’t trust her.”
*
In response to their request for a meeting at the Militia station, the Rangers were asked to come back after lunch. After lunch, they were asked to return again still later. When they were put off a third time, Chip lost her patience and announced that they would wait by the captain’s door until she was free. She selected a chair and threw herself down with an uncharacteristic scowl on her face.
“Must be an epidemic of lost dogs today.” Chip made no attempt to keep her voice down. Katryn took a seat beside her in a calmer fashion.
The military was comprised of three branches: the Militia, the Rangers and the Temple Guard. All three sections disliked the other two. Bitter rivalry existed between the Rangers and the Guards. Each saw itself as the elite service, for different reasons. And although everyone started in the Militia, the opinion was frequently voiced that only the second-rate stayed there—an attitude that did not endear itself to the Militiawomen any more than the trivializing of the work that they performed. It was a distortion to claim that even in rural districts, the job of the Militia amounted to no more than rounding up drunks and stray animals. The gibe was particularly unfounded in Landfall, where the Militia saw more violent encounters with more criminals than most squadrons did.
It was half an hour before Chip and Katryn were shown into the room. The thin-faced captain in the black uniform scarcely bothered to look up from the papers on her desk. “Good afternoon, Sergeant. I am Captain Gutmann. Can I do something for you? But you’ll have to be quick.”
“Yes, ma’am. We’re investigating a robbery and three murders that happened just north of Redridge. We’re trying to locate two suspects,” Chip said crisply.
“You think they might be in Landfall?”
No, we just came here for the pleasure of seeing you. Chip restrained her first sarcastic thought. “This is where they said they were going.”
“You’ve spoken to them already?”
“We have copies of statements they gave.”
“And you let them go?” The captain’s voice was smug. “That was careless.”
“They had been released before my squadron arrived in Redridge. I’m afraid it was the Militia that was careless…ma’am.”
“You’re saying the Militia made a mistake?” The captain’s voice held a dangerous edge.
“An error of judgment, ma’am.”
The two antagonists glared at each other—or, more accurately, the captain glared at Chip while Chip glared at the wall a few centimeters above the captain’s head. Eventually, the captain drew a sharp breath and snapped, “So who are these two?”
“Their names are Clarinda Wright and Nosheen Paulino, ma’am.”
“I’ve never heard of them.”
“They work for Mistress Drummond in Upper Street.”
“If you have questions about her employees, I suggest you go to Mistress Drummond herself.” The captain’s tones implied that the meeting was over. She returned to the papers on her desk.
Chip was speechless in frustrated anger, but Katryn entered the debate. “Ma’am. If I may, I have some more information.”
“What?” the captain barked.
“Before I joined the Rangers, I was in the Militia in Woodside, which is where I came across these two. As a member of the Militia, I personally arrested
them both, and they were picked up on other occasions as well. Clarinda Wright was a particular problem. After we in the Militia had done our job, half the time, she’d talk her way around the magistrate and walk out of court free. We’re concerned that she might have duped Mistress Drummond as well.”
Some of the hostility faded from the captain’s face. After a few seconds’ thought, she pulled a sheet of paper out from a pile. “What did you say their names were?”
“Clarinda Wright and Nosheen Paulino from Woodside, ma’am.”
The captain scribbled a note quickly. “I’ll see if anything is known about them.” She glanced up, her eyes still glittering angrily. “And if that’s all…”
This time, there was no avoiding the dismissal. Outside on the street again, Chip could finally give vent to her irritation. “Yet another bloody waste of time, courtesy of the Militia.”
“She said she’d ask around,” Katryn pointed out.
Chip sighed bitterly. “Yes, she did, and that was only because of you. Thanks; you did well. I’d lost my temper and couldn’t think straight.” Chip kicked a loose pebble across the cobbles. “I noticed you didn’t try to confuse her with doubts about Drummond’s honesty.”
“I just tried to keep things as simple and calm as possible.”
“Well, you obviously knew how to handle her.”
“It was just knowing that Militia captains hate gullible magistrates even more than they hate arrogant Rangers.”
Chip stopped short. There was a definite hint of criticism in the remark. “You think I could have been more tactful?”
“Um…” Katryn hesitated, searching for words. “I’m not sure blaming the Militia for letting them go was wise.”
“The captain was the one who started making accusations of carelessness.”
Rangers at Roadsend Page 4