by P. A. Wilson
“But, I wasn’t doing anything wrong.”
He dipped his pen in a pot of ink “That’s up to the judge. Name?”
They’d come up with fake names and Springheart would be using it to get her released. That way nothing tainted the reputation of the courier guild. “Butterflower.”
She watched as he scratched the name in the first box on the form, adding the word elf after.
“Address?”
“I’m between residences,” she muttered the words to give them a little veracity. “I was hoping I could bunk in the scree’s house for a while. Who called you anyway? He seemed surprised that you came.”
The head guard scribbled homeless in the address box and then sighed. “Now tell me the story from your side.” He settled back in a listening pose.
“I just did, why don’t you just let me go?” This stalling wasn’t getting her anywhere. If Springheart didn’t come soon to rescue her, then she was going to spend some time in a cell. There was no way she could talk her way out of this situation.
“You were found in a citizen’s house. He claims you were stealing.” The head guard looked her over one more time, signed the form, and the put it aside. “Put her in the first cell. We can keep an eye on her.”
“Why does his word count more than mine?” Willowvine pleaded as she was shoved toward the doorway leading to the cells. Knowing it was inevitable didn’t help now that she could smell the sourness emanating from the darkness.
Springheart had better find a solution to this problem soon. If it came down to a choice between the stone and her, he’d have to take the stone. Either she’d be free in a couple of hours, or she could be here until after the full moon had risen and the elves were doomed or saved.
* * *
The girl must have it, Maynard thought. They wouldn’t be delaying the contract to get her out if they’d missed it. “Do you have a plan?”
He looked at Springheart. The elf was watching the doorway, seeming to ignore the growing foot traffic. The scree were done with the gambling distraction, and not all were heading home. A few taverns would get a boost in business before all the warriors were in barracks.
“It’s going to take some powerful leverage to get her free, and she can’t spend too long in there. We need her.” Springheart looked toward the center of town.
The fool was going to ask the guild for help. That would work for Maynard because getting the guild involved with the guard would drop the two elves down a few points in the ranking. It just seemed too easy. “Maybe Lisseline would be the best choice. She has good relations with the guard and the mayor.” He could probably manipulate her better than most of the others as well.
Springheart turned to him. “Are you insane? Bringing the guild in will only make it worse.”
Too easy all right. Maynard bit back a retort and said, “We can try bribery.”
“We don’t know how many people are involved, and we don’t have enough money for many. Vitenkar will be able to buy more loyalty than we can, anyway. He has fear on his side as well as money.”
Maynard moved to match Springheart’s pace as the elf marched away from the safety of the shadows. “Maybe we can let her stay there until the scree is no longer interested. We can bribe a lower level guard in a couple of days. We must have money for that left in the expenses.”
The stone wasn’t on the girl, there was no way she could have hidden it in a pocket. If it was that small, they wouldn’t have had time to find it before capture. And she’d had no time to hide it before the guards caught her. Even if they didn’t have it, they knew where it was. He’d bet his reputation on that. “The scree won’t deal with this until the morning. It would make him look bad to have been vulnerable enough to let a child in his home. Or worried enough about such an event.”
Springheart turned a corner before answering, “He’s probably turning his household upside down try to figure out what she stole. And stop referring to her as a child.”
Suddenly realizing where they were going, Maynard came to a halt and grabbed Springheart’s arm. The elf shook him off but came to a stop. Maynard drew them into the shadows. “You can’t be serious. The guild board will dismiss you for contacting the client.” No matter what he’d overheard in the guildhall, Maynard knew that client courier meetings were restricted to instructions, and delivery. Both meetings were held in the guildhall, most of the time with a board member present.
Springheart leaned in to answer quietly, “This is a special contract. I have to talk to Devissial.”
* * *
Springheart walked along the path to Devissial’s house. He wished he could think of an excuse that would send Maynard on his way, but the man was there to help, so Springheart turned his thoughts to what he needed to say to Devissial. “This must be discreet as well as fast,” he said. “Let me do the talking.”
“Of course,” Maynard agreed. “Far be it from me to interfere.”
Taking a chance on Maynard being unwilling to break guild custom, Springheart said, “If you want to leave me here, I’m happy to do this alone. If you go now, then the guild won’t have any issue with you going to a client. It’ll all be on me.”
Maynard reached for the doorknocker. “You said it was a special case, so let’s get the girl out of jail. We’ll worry about what the guild thinks of your decision when the contract is complete.”
A human servant answered their knock and ushered them into a small receiving room. Springheart glanced at the furnishings, trying to get a feel for the man who owned them. There were few decorations, the walls were plastered white, the furnishings dark wood with deep red cushions. The atmosphere welcoming, and clearly expensive. Devissial wasn’t shy about displaying his wealth, but did so with taste. Without Willowvine’s ability, he would have to read the man’s emotions the mundane way.
The servant returned with three glasses of wine on a sliver tray. “Mister Devissial will be here shortly. Is there anything I can bring you?”
Springheart thanked him as Maynard opened his mouth to ask for something. They would not be in Devissial’s debt for anything other than information. Maynard would have to keep quiet. Perhaps he would be better at it than Willowvine. As soon as the thought entered his mind, Springheart felt shame. He had to stop thinking about her negative traits as her only traits. In fact, those traits had been of use, so perhaps they were not always negative.
The servant nodded and departed as quietly as he’d entered. Sitting in one of the chairs Springheart waited until they were alone before saying, “We aren’t here for a visit.”
Maynard took a glass and leaned against the wall. “I know, but I’m hungry. I thought elves were civilized.”
Springheart refused to respond. Why Maynard Slack was suddenly insolent was unexplainable. Whatever had caused it he wasn’t going to feed the mood.
“What can I do to help?” Devissial asked as he entered. The man looked polished as if it was midday rather than the early hours.
Springheart told him the details, as much as he could share in front of Maynard. “We need your help to get Willowvine free before morning.”
Devissial looked to Maynard who seemed to take the attention as permission to speak. “I’m sure it was not her fault, sir. The girl is competent.”
The tone of Maynard’s words made it clear that he didn’t think that at all.
Devissial raised an eyebrow. “I know that. She would not be on this job otherwise. Why are you here?”
Springheart stepped in before Maynard could take offense and make matters worse. “The guild has provided us with Maynard’s time to ensure we are able to use our efforts to the critical tasks. He is not aware of any details. Now, will you provide the funds for a bribe?”
Devissial smiled, placed his glass on the table, and said, “Better, I will use my influence. That way we do not need to waste time finding the right person to bribe. Let us go now. The girl will leave with us. I can guarantee that.”
Sp
ringheart glanced at Maynard as they exited the room. He seemed calm now. Perhaps the rebuke would keep him from interrupting again.
A few minutes later they entered the guard station and Devissial pointed his companions to the chairs lining the far wall. “Let me do this. Don’t argue or react to what I say.”
Springheart watched as his client marched up to the desk where a guard was rising, having just noticed the man approaching.
“Citizen Devissial, what brings you here at this hour?” He spoke with respect.
“I am here to retrieve my servant. The hour was determined by your actions.” Devissial seemed to grow in stature as he talked.
The guard licked his lips. His voice shaky, he asked, “Which servant?”
Springheart’s froze as his heart stopped in fear that Devissial would use her real name.
“An elven girl. How many of them do you have in your custody?”
Springheart quietly took in a breath as he admired the man’s ability to avoid any details.
“She was found inside a private home.”
“Where is her accuser?”
The guard swallowed. It didn’t seem like he was happy that Vitenkar was taking his time. “He said he will come as soon as he is sure what she stole.”
Devissial leaned toward the guard who shrank away. “More likely he is preparing false evidence. The child is naive, but not a thief. I will take her home.”
Springheart watched the guard as he clearly considered arguing. He pitied him. The man was trying very hard to do his job in the face of political expediency. Eventually the political aspects won out. “I’ll have her brought out.”
They waited only a few minutes before Willowvine strode into the room, a second guard right behind. She smiled at them, until Springheart narrowed his eyes to signal her to be more humble. The desk guard pulled a form from a folder and handed it to Devissial who looked at it with contempt and crumpled it before dropping it to the floor.
“Thank you for your cooperation. Now, we will go home, child. You will tell me what really happened when we are there.”
Chapter 23
Devissial left them outside the guard station. Willowvine knew they had used him to free her, but could wait for the details until Maynard left. They still had time to retrieve the stone if they went back right now. But that meant Maynard had to be gone.
“We need to let the guild know what happened,” she said into the silence of the dark street. “If they hear about it from anyone else, we’ll have to explain away the interpretations.” As much as she wanted to be free of the guild, she didn’t want to be ejected. The anonymity that the guild provided was precious. The wards the guild had around their doors were not the usual ones. The guild wards clouded the minds of anyone trying to figure out which of the people entering were clients and which were couriers.
She was certain that the only reason she was freed so early was that the guards didn’t know that she was a courier. If they had, they wouldn’t have listened to her story at all. She would probably have been left in the house for Vitenkar to deal with. Or turned over to the marshal depending on the views of the guard in charge.
“We don’t have time,” Springheart said. “We can’t wait until the guild board convenes.”
Willowvine watched Maynard consider her statement, his gaze on the ground. If she was right he was now torn between staying with them and taking the opportunity to bad mouth them to the board members. She’d thought about this while sitting in the cell. He had always been competitive with them, and he’d wormed his way into the contract as their agent. He wanted to be the number one courier. If he agreed, Maynard would be gone at least a couple of hours. The trick was to make it his idea.
“If you don’t think it’s important…” she let the words trail off giving Maynard an opening.
He took the bait. “The girl is right,” he said. “We cannot let them hear about this from anyone else. Devissial may already be composing the message.”
“We need to prepare for our next search,” Springheart said.
Maynard straightened. “I’ll take care of the board. Shall we meet for breakfast and discuss our plans?”
That agreed, Willowvine watched Maynard head toward the guildhall. “We have time, right?” She tugged at Springheart’s arm. “I wasn’t in there too long?”
He shook off her grip and started walking toward their rooms. “What tripped you?”
“The stupid rug. I can’t believe I tripped over the rug. One second I was right behind you, the next my hands hit the ground.”
“Will you be tripping later?”
Springheart was angry with her.
“No.” She grabbed his arm. “What do you want to say to me?” They couldn’t enter that house again with hardness between them.
“I need you to be ready for surprises. If you get caught again, it won’t be so easy to get you free.” He held open the door to their rooming house.
“You are angry because I tripped?” Willowvine tried to stop the fight she felt from showing in her voice. It wasn’t her fault, but there wasn’t time to talk him around.
“I’m not angry. It scared me when you fell. I don’t want to lose you.”
They were inside their room now. It was a safe place to talk. Willowvine opened the chest they shared for storing tools and mementos. It hadn’t occurred to her that Springheart would be afraid. He should have more confidence in me. “I’ll be careful,” she said tying off the coil of rope they’d need to get in through the vent. “I’m sorry I scared you.”
Springheart handed her the hammer and screwdriver, and then slipped the crowbar into his own sack. “I know. Look, Vitenkar has had time to move the stone, but not enough to have moved it far. We can be fast because there’s no one to dodge. We’re not going to search the house if the stone isn’t in the warehouse.”
“But—” she stopped herself from finishing the sentence.
Springheart tucked another rope into his pack. “We still have time enough for Vitenkar to get careless again.”
She thought that Vitenkar would be more vigilant as time passed, not more relaxed, but didn’t argue.
* * *
The bulk of his army was settled in their beds, but Vitenkar didn’t care. They should have been there earlier. Wherever they were, they would regret leaving him unprotected. It could have ruined his plans. With only a few warriors around, the damn elf had the run of the house. He was sure that she hadn’t found the stone. It was too well hidden, and too big for her to have concealed on her person. Anyway, she was in a cell now and would be there until morning.
Time to make sure that his warriors were more alert from now on. The battles wouldn’t be too far away and warriors that who were lazy or distracted would not help him win control of the world.
He marched into the barracks, expecting the men to come to attention. No one moved. He scanned the room for Dintral or Ballian. Dintral was unfortunate enough to be curled up on the floor asleep. Vitenkar brought his lieutenant to his feet with a kick to the ribs then snarled, “Get their attention.”
It took far too long to get the men to rise. Most were weaving on their feet as they stood, drunk. He was wasting his money. If there were any other way, any other mercenaries available, he’d have these fools out on the street before they were sober. But there were no others to hire.
“We were attacked tonight,” he shouted. “It was not successful because even at reduced numbers the scree always triumph.”
Rather than a roar of victory all that Vitenkar heard was a loud belch.
“Our time is nearing. To ensure that we are ready, no one will be absent from this house. Sober up. Tomorrow you will all be in training until you are too weary to drink. Anyone who disobeys will learn what punishment means in my army.”
A few groans responded.
He turned to Dintral. “Find Ballian and relay what I said. If any of the men are unable to train at dawn, the two of you will receive the same punishm
ent as they do.”
He didn’t wait for a response, simply turned and marched from the room.
In the main hall, Vitenkar took a moment to calm himself. He had no doubt that the warriors would perform when needed. It was in the nature of the scree to fight, not to lay waiting for the fight. It would probably have been a better tactic to keep them occupied for the last few weeks. He would make sure that they had no time to waste between now and the first battle.
He turned to go back to his bed, but something seemed to be pulling him back. Spinning to face the door to the warehouse, his confidence drained away. He told himself that there was no way the girl had entered the warehouse, but the question kept appearing in his mind — was there? Did the elves have a way to break the unbreakable lock?
Sighing at his doubt, Vitenkar pulled the key from his pocket and went into the warehouse. Lighting the torch set beside the door, he looked for clues that someone had been there. No footprints, but that was simply because there was no dust. He supervised the cleaning of the warehouse to ensure no dust or other contaminants infiltrated his crates.
Vitenkar made his way to the far corner of the warehouse to where the Stone of Family resided in its crate. Despite the fact that it was still crated and there was no evidence of tampering, Vitenkar knew he had to move it, or he’d fret all night.
He knew that the warehouse was still the safest place for the stone, but if in the unlikely event that the elf had entered, there were other places to hide the crate without taking it from the room. He hooked his fingers through the space in the slats and effortlessly lifted the small square crate. Walking the length of the row of racks, Vitenkar stopped at the end, this was actually the farthest place from the only door. If it sat here, against the back wall in this far corner, it would blend in with the other oddities of all different sizes and weights.
Vitenkar placed the torch in the bracket on the wall to free his hands. Moving a crate aside, he slipped the one containing the stone behind it. He stepped back and looked at the arrangement from a couple of angles, finally deciding it looked fine in the light from the torch. Thieves, elf, or other species, wouldn’t dare to have a bright torch lit when they were here — no. not when, if.