Starwatch

by Ian Blackport

  “This might work,” Aeyir affirmed. “What about the galens though? They’ll definitely identify us, and that’s not conceit talking.”

  “Local highbrows take the opportunity to schmooze with famed galens that night, yes?” asked Cyriana. “I’d wager they’ll be too distracted with incessant queries to notice you. But keep an eye out for any shabby robes and be poised to slip from sight into the crowds.”

  “Who are you?”

  “As I told you, someone the galens wronged many years ago. You can call me Lana.”

  “Is that your real name?”

  “Would you believe me if I said it was?” Cyriana shrugged and traced a fingernail through cracks in the table surface. “But no, it isn’t. My real name is familiar to certain elder galens, the ones responsible for my mistreatment. I prefer not to use it while in Arroyo, regardless of my current company.”

  “Fair enough. How should we coordinate this?”

  “I’ll be in touch during the coming weeks. Primarily via letters to minimize contact and avoid arousing suspicions. Are you residing at an inn?”

  “The Starlit Cove, yeah,” answered Thran.

  “Good. I’ll have our correspondence sent to you there. And I’ll be the one deciding whether we should meet in person again. I suspect it’ll be a necessity at one point or another. For now continue like nothing has changed and I’ll be in touch.” Cyriana stood and deposited several coins atop the table. “Like I said, drinks are on me.”

  *

  Cyriana entered the Dawning Repose common chamber to find Eloran and Maylene perched at a table together. Neither one seemed to be bleeding profusely or decorated in dark bruising, which struck her as odd. “Now here’s an unfamiliar sight. Shouldn’t one of you be standing in triumph over the other’s corpse when you share a room alone? Or at least flinging furniture at one another?”

  “How amusing,” droned Eloran. “And though I’d suspect Maylene has fantasized committing the act, even she must sometimes admit to needing my assistance.”

  “However grudgingly,” Maylene conceded. Without glancing over a shoulder she jabbed one thumb toward the opposite wall. “Plus we have a witness.”

  Cyriana shifted her gaze to find Baskaran seated in silence, tending to his beloved rapier. “Didn’t even notice you sitting there. For such a threatening man it’s strange how you can shrink your presence to almost nothing. Not that I mean to be insulting.”

  “No offense taken,” he replied. “Eloran shared this chamber with me for an hour before realizing he wasn’t on his own. I even said hello to him when he first entered.”

  “Or so he claims,” muttered the old forger.

  Thorkell poked his head through the open entry and eyed Cyriana. “Zalla said you demanded my presence.”

  “I did, yes. I’ve been stricken with an imaginative ploy thanks to my new acquaintanceship with a couple willing dimwits.”

  “I like pawns,” Maylene affirmed. “Always so eager to do as we tell them.”

  “These ones especially. They’re former students who were expelled for academic dishonesty and are practically salivating at the chance to enact vengeance against the galens.”

  “What’s the plan?”

  “Thorkell, how are your supplies regarding black and gray cosmetics faring?”

  “Depends how you plan to use those colors.”

  “Not for anything subtle,” Cyriana explained. “I need a harsh, glaring intensity. Colors that can be unmistakably glimpsed from a reasonable distance.”

  “Blacks and grays in my current arsenal are understated and meant for concealing. They exist to blend in rather than stand out.”

  “You have an order to fulfill then. I want black bordering on ink, though not like that shiny crap some people use to dye their hair. I’ll also require a pallid gray that can be an adequate facsimile to the shade flesh turns after death.”

  Thorkell lifted a brow, pursing his lips in wary mistrust. “I’m abruptly less inclined to inquire what ruse you’ve cooked. It sounds unsettling.”

  “Nonsense. It’s inspired. Though you may need to craft specialized containers for the makeup to bypass touchy feely guards.”

  “We won’t be applying beforehand?” he questioned.

  “Nope. Only way to make this viable is to smuggle the colors into Starwatch. Nothing gets rubbed onto faces until the Eclipsing Radiance Fete is nearly finished.”

  “I might be able to conjure narrow flasks that can slip into belts or pockets.”

  “That’s the spirit. Oh, and anticipate training acolytes for the most dramatic false-facing con in living memory.”

  “You’re not lacking confidence, I see.”

  “Never am,” Cyriana asserted. “Plus I’m particularly giddy about this tactic.”

  Maylene lifted her hand and shooed in Thorkell’s direction. “Go away. I have to prepare for the first job interview in my life. Baskaran can stay, since he’s quiet. On the other hand, you’re nothing but a tiresome distraction.”

  “Nervous, are we?”

  “Yes, because I have no clue what I’m supposed to say. Can someone answer me why I chose Captain of the Starwatch Guard for the honor?”

  “Try not to be your usual charming self and it should go smoothly,” Eloran advised.

  “If he doesn’t hire me it’ll be your references that are the problem, wise guy.”

  “As ever, my work is impeccable and the only thing allowing this ploy to happen. A lesser man than myself might insist on reveling in commendations.”

  Thorkell balled a fist in front of his mouth and uttered a blatant cough. “Is no one planning to thank me for my role in making this all possible?”

  “And we’ve found our lesser man,” quipped Eloran. “Right on cue.”

  “I don’t rightly know why you insist on fishing for compliments,” Cyriana muttered to Thorkell. “Gods know there isn’t enough room to pat you on the back, since you’re so busy doing it yourself.”

  Baskaran glanced up from oiling his rapier. “I understand Eloran’s role, but how is Thorkell involved in helping Maylene be hired at Starwatch?”

  The false-facer unveiled a devious smirk. “She’s pretending to be a former employee for an old acquaintance of mine.”

  “More like folks who yearn for nothing but to see you hanged,” countered Maylene. “Thorkell conned Lord and Lady Mervan two years back. With fewer funds they had to bid farewell to several estate staff, and I’ll be posing as one.”

  “And if Captain Graycloak hopes to inquire further with the Mervans?” questioned Baskaran.

  “Can’t,” Thorkell affirmed. “They live at the base of the Halinsa Mountains on the opposite side of Asdor. Good luck dispatching a message to them in a timely manner. Even if by some minor miracle Starwatch does, the Mervans truly did have a servant bearing an uncanny resemblance to Maylene.”

  “Yes, and she’s bloody exhausted with all these distractions.” Maylene leaned on a creaking table and cast narrowed eyes toward Thorkell. “Time for the noisiest ones to leave.”

  “You can’t boot us out of the common room.” He noticed her murderous expression and lifted his hands in a placating gesture. “Fine, I’m gone.”

  Cyriana stood and followed Thorkell into the hallway. “I might regret these words, but I’d like to see your extensive cosmetic collection. I’ll have a better idea what we’ll need for my ruse.”

  “My pleasure. Perhaps you’ll even allow me to improve your foundation. A little coloring and we can really make your eyes pop.”

  “That didn’t take long.”

  “For what?”

  “Me to regret asking.”

  Chapter 14

  Damn straight I work alone. Accomplices muddy your prospects and introduce unknown quantities. Unless I’m an utter moron, I can’t disappoint myself. On the other hand, I’ve spent a lifetime watching others disappoint me.

  From the Trial of Farien Taerlon, Day 3

  308 Black Ruin, Year of
the Tangled Glade

  6 Nashrenir

  Almar Graycloak finished reading the letter and eyed Kalyna across his desk. She wore a formal close-fitted jacket, though of a material that common laborers could afford. No mends or stitching were visible, suggesting she had recently scraped together enough funds to purchase the article specifically to wear during her interview. Almar was pleased she demonstrated sufficient professionalism and showed the necessary respect for this position. It suggested an innate care that many other candidates lacked.

  “I have only one opening left I hoped to fill.”

  She waited in patient silence, exuding a nurtured confidence that bespoke experience. “I believe my references speak for themselves.”

  “An impressive endorsement, no doubt. Tell me about your time working at the Mervan estate.”

  “There were eight guards, including myself. I patrolled the grounds, monitored serving staff and sometimes accompanied Lady Mervan when she traveled.”

  “How far afield?”

  “Only within Rallanis and to neighboring towns. She hired caravan guards from a company her family did business with for farther distances.”

  “Did you earn any complaints or reprimands?”

  “Not once. My employers place their trust in me and I don’t intend to betray them in return. I’m told the Draugans execute legionaries caught sleeping at their post, under the accusation it places their comrades at risk. I admire the practice and wish it was implemented elsewhere. It’s an unfortunate fact that many thugs claiming to be guards give a bad name to the rest of us.”

  Almar lowered his gaze to pristine script decorating the page. “Given an exemplary record, I must ask how your former employment came to an end. Termination does not bode well, I’m afraid.”

  “Regrettable and forced downsizing. Lord and Lady Mervan fell into hard times after a failed venture and needed to cut expenses among the estate staff. They respected seniority, though I wasn’t senior enough to remain. I assure you there is no lingering animosity.”

  “I suspect not, since his lordship was kind enough to compose this letter of recommendation for you. When did you finish working for his estate?”

  “In Adonastis,” Kalyna answered. “Nearly two years ago.”

  “And what have you done in the meantime?”

  “Taking work where it could be found. I traveled a caravan route between Elarenth and Chiridion for a spell. Mostly I’ve been hired for short-term periods when there’s a need for extra guards.”

  “You’ve not thought about enlisting in the legions?”

  “I might have no choice if I can’t find a permanent position somewhere. Though to tell you the truth, I have little interest fighting in a war.”

  “One can hardly blame you.” Almar rapped his fingertips on the desk. “I’m impressed with what I’ve seen. Return here in two days hence for outfitting and training.”

  “Yes, sir. Thank you for the opportunity, sir.”

  “Rensan will escort you off the grounds.”

  Kalyna stood and left the chamber at a brisk stride to where Rensan waited. Almar felt a flush of satisfaction that the final guard was hired and his search concluded. Conducting endless interviews was an exhaustive process fraught with irritation. Fifteen positions needed to be filled initially, and he suffered through forty-three candidates finding ones deemed sufficient. Many were ill-suited to defend a vegetable cart, let alone serve at Starwatch.

  Almar rubbed his face and climbed upright, relieved he could resume tackling important affairs rather than weeding through contemptible applicants. Perhaps several temporary hirelings might prove skilled enough to remain employed here following the festival. Perish the thought, so far as senior galens were concerned. Swelling guard numbers meant diverting funds from areas more preferable to galen sensibilities. Erecting yet another statue or commissioning further paintings took priority, after all. Though if any recruit proved especially talented he planned to impress on Chaereas the necessity of expanding their ranks. Beautifying the grounds should have long since been relegated to a lesser urgency.

  He tugged gloves over scarred hands, brushed a scuff from one polished boot and vacated his office. Almar smiled in greeting to several students walking through the hallway and passed beneath vivid mosaics glittering a fiery orange amid torchlight.

  “Captain Graycloak, might I have a word?”

  Almar pivoted and offered a courteous nod. “Of course, Galen Dranna. How can I be of assistance to one of the Governing Circle?”

  “Initiate Saevor from Hathanik informed me several items were stolen from her chambers yesterday evening.”

  “How regrettable.”

  “Indeed. She hopes a member of the Guard might look into this unfortunate incident and discover who had the temerity to enter her room uninvited and thieve a cherished belonging.”

  Close to being understaffed only weeks prior to the Fete, but of course he would be expected to treat this trivial issue as though crucial. “As well we should. Theft cannot be tolerated.”

  “I don’t feel the need to remind you how dutiful her parents are in donating to our institution,” she asserted.

  Almar had never even heard the name mentioned before, let alone how much gold her parents threw at Starwatch. He had no interest in who bequeathed the largest amounts or owned the vastest tracts of land. The information should not be relevant to how those studying here received treatment. “I understand, Professor. I’ll speak with Initiate Saevor myself and see what can be learned.”

  “Thank you for your prudence in this matter, Captain. We don’t wish to offend such an influential benefactor.”

  The less influential ones evidently did not justify effort, whereas confirming accusations of favoritism appeared to not be a worrisome concern. “No, we do not.”

  “Good day, Captain.”

  “And to you, Professor.” Almar tucked his head again, watching Dranna depart. He adjusted his drooping belt and continued onward through a corridor adorned with watercolor portraits painted centuries earlier.

  Theft among students was not uncommon, yet the Starwatch Guard were rarely tasked with investigating. Only the wealthiest offspring warranted attention it seemed. Invariably the fault traced back to the complainant, who either left their chamber door unlocked or misplaced the item thought stolen. Many were noble born children accustomed to pampering servants. Without an ever present attendant, these mollycoddled juvenile aristocrats often proved unable to keep track of their own possessions.

  Almar planned to locate the whining initiate and calm her with meaningless words of reassurance. Fooling Saevor into believing her grievance was taken seriously is what mattered. He felt thankful the majority lost their old affiliations and spoiled tendencies once finally affirmed as galens. Years were required in Starwatch’s walls to undo the failings of patrician families. Perhaps Saevor might feel less entitled by the time she reached adept rank. Otherwise pity those she ended up one day serving.

  *

  Cyriana eyed an oblivious Maylene enter the inn, heading absently toward the staircase. She licked basil clinging to greasy fingers and whistled. Halting with one foot poised on the lowest step, Maylene turned and noticed Cyriana enjoying a meal. Boots clomped atop dirt and crinkled straw scattered through the room as she ambled over.

  “I see you’re in the dining hall today,” Maylene said, lowering herself into a vacant chair. “A happy coincidence. I’m starving.”

  Cyriana slid a plate toward the other woman. “You look so fancy.”

  “I feel like a bloody tool.” She unfastened one button pinching the collar against her skin and rubbed a rosy neck. “To think this is Thorkell’s entire life.”

  “How’d the interview go? Are you a respected sentinel in that hallowed institution?”

  “Do you even need to ask? I blew Graycloak’s mind with my undeniable capabilities. He wanted to make me a lieutenant but figured the senior grunts would be resentful toward a neophyte.�
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  “Pleased to hear. It’ll be nice having someone who can stroll through the gate.”

  Maylene ripped chicken from a bone. “Have schemes for me to undertake in the coming days?”

  “Nope. Don’t want to risk your cover unduly. Safest route is for you to gain trust and become a common sight on the grounds. I might not even have you do anything until our burgling night.”

  “You want me to arrive first thing on certain mornings as requested and train?”

  “In a nutshell, yeah.”

  “When I signed on for this conspiracy of yours, the last thing I ever anticipated was that you’d ask me to get a normal job and perform it well.”

  Cyriana sipped ale from a clay mug and fanned herself with a parchment sheet. “We’re all making sacrifices here.”

  “Funny, since I haven’t seen yours yet.”

  “I’m sure it’ll sneak up on me eventually.”

  “Only if the gods believe in fairness. I’ve yet to see evidence in my life.”

  “You have a free day tomorrow, yes?”

  Maylene uttered a longwinded sigh, sagging in her chair. “I did.”

  “I have an important task that needs doing. Find me a secluded inn.”

  “A third one, huh? Looking to visit them all, are you?”

  “I want a site hidden from everyone outside our crew.” Cyriana leaned closer with an elbow propped on the table. “I meant for this one to serve the purpose, but it’s a safe bet my secret admirer knows about it.”

  “The perils of having a voyeur. Is that all you need from me? Find an inn that truly is clandestine?”

  “Essentially. I’d do it if it weren’t for Rope’s pet. And if I lose him it’ll only arouse suspicions.”

  “Easy enough,” Maylene answered with a shrug. “Have any recommendations?”

  “Just be certain no one is tailing you. I can’t yet be sure Rope isn’t having us all followed, despite his claims to the contrary. Once you’ve found a suitable location, book rooms in advance to begin the day before our heist. I want a furtive hidey-hole the Shiylan and his cronies know nothing about, should we ever find cause to retreat.”