Realizing that he should get off the streets, he searched around for a likely soul to ask for directions. Nobody looked promising as everyone hurried along, their gaze firmly fixed on the ground in front of them. After a few fruitless attempts at quietly gaining someone’s attention, he selected a man bustling by and stepped in his path.
“Pardon me, sir.”
The man gave a start as he nearly ran into Keltin. He looked up in agitation then immediately balked at the sight of Keltin’s heavily armed appearance. Keltin spoke quickly in an effort to avoid a scene and draw the attention of the ever-present officers of the MLP.
“Excuse me. I’m new in town and looking for a place to stay. What’s the nicest place to eat in town?”
The man blinked and sputtered for a moment.
“Eh? Oh, ah... I suppose that would be Jacoby’s.”
“And where is that?”
“Just... just down the street, sir. You’ll see the sign, on your left.”
“Thank you. Goodnight.”
The man hurried on without giving a response. As Keltin began to follow the man’s directions, he was frustrated to realize that he was already beginning to question his performance. Had he acted too politely? Should he have been more gruff and intimidating? He cursed to himself as he made his way down the street. This business of playing a role, no matter how close to himself, was something he would never get used to and certainly never enjoy.
Jacoby’s proved to be an impressive two-story building with golden light spilling onto the street outside. Keltin climbed the steps to the outer porch and took a quick glance through the window at the well-populated round tables and bar within. He breathed a quick sigh of relief at the sight of Harper seated at one of the tables. Taking comfort in having found the right place, he entered through the sturdy front doors to the sound of playful music coming from a player-piano in the corner. He felt a number of eyes upon him but did his best to ignore them as he walked past the tables in the front room and made his way to the bar. On an impulse, he leaned his rifle against the counter and then swung the Ripper from off his shoulder to lay the savage-looking weapon on the bar before him. The man behind the bar gave the weapon a guarded look before addressing Keltin in a somewhat stiff voice.
“Can I help you, sir?”
“My name is Keltin Moore. I need a room, and I’d like something to eat.”
Was that too polite again? Keltin suppressed his uncertainty as the bartender replied.
“Well, we can provide you a room, and supper is beef and carrot stew. That’ll be seven dunlens.”
Keltin froze. With everything else on his mind, he had forgotten to account for the change of currencies in Malpin. What could he do? Should he try paying with either the Krendarian marks or Riltvinian jeva that he carried? He was still trying to decide when Harper appeared at his side.
“I’ll handle all of our expenses,” he said smoothly before turning to Keltin. “Mr. Moore, I’ve already gotten you a table. Please take a seat and I’ll see to it that your dinner is brought right away.”
Keltin nodded, not trusting himself to speak as he picked up the Ripper and his rifle and followed the newspaperman to a table near an impressive fireplace against the side wall. He took a seat and looked up to see that he had drawn more than a few curious looks from the crowd. Despite his uncertainty, he forced himself to avoid looking away. Doing his best to look more confident than he felt, he met each onlooker’s gaze until they turned away uncomfortably. When the last of them had looked away he removed a box of Capshire shatter-rounds from his pocket and pretended to slowly count them on the table, feeling for all the world like an actor that had forgotten all of his lines. Harper finished at the bar and sat down next to him.
“You’re doing fine,” he murmured under his breath.
“I feel like an idiot,” Keltin replied softly.
“Just stay strong and silent. I’ve been talking you up most of the day. In fact, It’s probably time to make a little announcement. Just follow my lead.”
Harper stood up and addressed the assembled room.
“Excuse me!” he said in a clear, confident voice. “This man is Keltin Moore, the most famous and deadly beast hunter you’ll ever see, recently returning from killing beasts in the southern territories. If any of you wish to hire out his services, you can speak with me. If you’re plagued by the visitations of some beast or monster of nightmare, this man will kill it, skin it, and bring the hide back to your doorstep in a fortnight.”
“You say he’s famous?” called a weathered man from one of the tables. “I’ve never heard of him.”
“Have you been to Lost Trap in Drutchland, or Dhalma Province in Krendaria, or the hill country and lumber camps of Riltvin? No sir, I think you haven’t, or you’d have heard of the great hero Keltin Moore.”
“If he’s so great, why doesn’t he give some demonstration of it?” called a younger man from another table.
Keltin tried to give Harper a worried glance, but the newspaperman regarded the heckler with perfect coolness.
“If you would care to trot a beast into this restaurant, I’m sure Mr. Moore would be happy to kill it for your pleasure.”
Harper was met with a laugh from the crowd, and the young man went red in the face and sat down quickly.
“Well, what sort of things has he done?” asked another fellow. “I’d like to hear some of it, if you can spin a good yarn.”
“Ha! I can do that for certain. Turn your chair around, and let me tell you about how Mr. Moore single-handedly tracked down the Ghost of Lost Trap.”
Harper then proceeded to regal the crowd with a rousing and highly embellished tale of Keltin’s time in Drutchland. The newspaperman clearly had a gift with words, and soon had the entire room’s attention as he accepted free drinks from his makeshift stage next to the bar. For his part, Keltin tried not to let his burning red ears show, dipping his hat low and focusing on the stew that had been placed before him.
Suddenly, Harper was interrupted by a young man that had been sitting at the end of the bar. Keltin could see that the fellow had clearly been deep into his cups already as he shouted at Harper in a slightly slurred voice.
“Aw, shut it with your wobble shobbing. If you love the man so much, why don’t you take him upstairs with you then?”
Harper gave the man a frosty look. “If you don’t care for the story, sir, then you don’t have to listen to it.”
“How can I help it? You’re blabbing it all over here. Well, we don’t care what some polished up git with a fancy pickax and his lying trash picker have to say. So why don’t you two get a room, or shut your gob.”
“Ah sit down, Lough,” called someone from the bar. “Let the man tell his story, he ain’t hurting you.”
“I won’t! This man comes here and makes us all out to be fools. What are these two doing here? Maybe they’re highwaymen, come to steal women and kill children.”
“You’re drunk boy, sit down, or go home. Don’t bring the Grays in here after us.”
But Lough was having none of it. He shoved his stool back and made straight for Keltin, still seated at his table in the corner.
“And what about you, gob? You saying anything?”
Keltin looked up at the young man. He was unarmed, but bore the sturdy build of a hard worker. Keltin had seen plenty of blustering fellows like him, but he’d never had an audience like this before. With Harper’s elaborate tales still ringing in his ears, he spoke in an even tone that was just loud enough to be heard throughout the room.
“You should listen to your friend and go home.”
The young man’s eyes flared. He swung his arm to swipe Keltin’s empty bowl to the floor.
“Don’t you tell me what to do, or I’ll sockmouth your runny face right here!”
Keltin took a deep breath and slowly rose to his feet, carefully setting aside his Ripper and rifle. He stared at the young man coolly as he adjusted his stance, keeping his tone leve
l.
“Go home. You’re drunk.”
Lough swung a meaty fist at Keltin’s head. Keltin easily dodged it by dipping his body low, rising up with a driving fist to the man’s stomach. There was an audible rush of air out of Lough’s lungs as he stumbled back, face red as a tomato as he clutched at his middle. For a moment it looked as if Lough might throw up, and Keltin watched him carefully as someone came up to the young man to help him.
“Come on Lough, let’s go.”
But the young man pushed the fellow away and reached into his pocket. Keltin saw a flash of polished steel as Lough flipped open a folding knife. In a single, smooth motion, Keltin pulled his Lawrie hunting knife from its sheath and leapt forward. He clamped his free hand onto the wrist of the hand holding the folding knife and held the blade of the Lawrie against the young man’s throat. Lough’s eyes went wide with sudden fear. He began to shake, his chin trembling.
“I... I...”
Keltin kept a steely eye on the young man as he spoke to Lough’s friend. “Take away his knife before he hurts himself.”
Once Lough had been disarmed, Keltin released him to the care of his friend.
“See that he gets home.”
Turning away from the pair, Keltin made his way through the silent room to the bartender.
“Is my room ready?”
The bartender nodded and swallowed. “Yes sir. Up the stairs and on your left.”
The man fumbled for a minute to detach the room key from a ring under the bar. Keltin took the key and turned to go, giving Harper the barest of nods before making his way up to the room. He unlocked the door, stepped inside, closed the door, and threw himself on the bed to allow all of his pent up tension to finally rise to the surface.
His hands were shaking and his head swarmed with a pulsing headache, neither of which were the result of the brief fight with Lough. He’d handled far worse exchanges with men before, to say nothing of the scores of beasts he’d tangled with. But the constant pressure of being on display was exhausting. Keltin wasn’t sure how he would keep it up.
He stood up and paced around the room until his breathing had returned to a calm, natural pattern. Too late, he realized that he was still hungry, but knew that he couldn’t go back downstairs to get something more. He sat in the room’s single chair by the shuttered window and tried not to think of the pangs in his stomach until he heard a knock at his door. Keltin tensed, feeling the full rush of tension flowing back into him as he sat up.
“Who is it?” he called, trying to fill his voice with confidence that he didn’t feel.
“It’s me.”
Keltin slumped with relief before rising from his chair and opening the door. Harper hurried inside and closed the door behind him, turning to Keltin was a look of concern.
“Are you all right?”
Keltin heaved a heavy sigh and nodded. “I’ve dealt with worse bullies. Frankly, it was almost a relief to have a reason to leave, though I wish I’d gotten something more to eat.”
Harper gave him a humorless smile.
“Well, it may not have gone perfectly to plan, but at least we’ve got a story to quickly spread rumors of the legendary beast hunter staying at Jacoby’s in town.” He lowered his voice. “I’m just worried about the attention it might draw from the MLP.”
“Do you think they’ll find out about it?”
“There’s no question of it. Just from the little that I’ve seen today I can tell you that the people here don’t want any trouble with the authorities. The MLP have likely already received multiple reports of your little scuffle, if only to clear the names of the people doing the reporting. We should expect to answer some questions from the MLP any time now.”
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have let it get violent.”
“There wasn’t anything else that you could have done. I caught some gossip about that young man after you left. It sounds like Lough had plenty of weight on him before you ever showed up. Apparently, his father owned a carpentry business in town with a Loopi partner. When the Heterack Empowerment came, the Loopi partner wanted to leave, but Lough’s father convinced him to stay. Two months later, the shop was burgled and vandalized, forcing them to close it for good. The Loopi partner disappeared, and Lough’s father remained an outspoken critic of the Vaughs until he was arrested by the MLP for disturbing the peace. Nobody’s heard from him since.”
Keltin closed his eyes and bowed his head.
“I wish I’d known,” he said softly.
Harper placed a hand on his shoulder. “There’s nothing more that you could have done. Don’t forget. We’re not here to right every wrong that we find. We’re here to help the Destovs. Speaking of which, I don’t suppose you saw anyone you recognized downstairs?”
“Only you.”
“Too bad, though I’m not surprised. We’ll just have to wait. With luck, the Brothers of Kerrtow will hear about the new beast hunter in town and get in touch with us.”
“I hope they’re quick about it,” said Keltin. “I’m not looking forward to dealing with the MLP if they become too nosy.”
“That’s true. We’re going to have to walk a fine line between making enough of a noise to draw the attention of the Brothers without getting into the sort of trouble that will make us disappear like Lough’s father.”
Chapter 15 – The MLP
It was early the next morning and Keltin was in the process of getting dressed when he heard a sudden, insistent knock on his door. He’d barely managed to open the latch before Harper had shoved his way inside, closing the door behind him.
“What’s the matter?” asked Keltin.
“MLP officers downstairs. They’re investigating last night’s fight. They’ll be up here any time now.”
Keltin glanced at the pale light of morning coming from his window. “I’m surprised they’re here so early.”
“I’m not. That’s why I was downstairs. I had a hunch they would come. Quickly, do you remember the story we discussed last night?”
Keltin’s reply was interrupted by a harsh knock at his door. They exchanged a quick look, and Keltin quickly pulled on the last of his clothes.
“Just a moment,” he called. “I’m getting dressed.”
A harsh voice answered him.
“This is the Malpinion League of Protection! Open up!”
Harper opened the door as three large men entered the room, each one wearing the insignia of the MLP on his arm. Keltin turned to face them from where he stood next to his bed, keeping his hand close to the pillow where the tiny pocket pistol that Jessica had made for him lay hidden underneath.
“Can we help you gentlemen?” asked Harper.
One of the officers closed the door before turning to speak. He regarded Harper for less than a moment before turning his attention to Keltin.
“Are you Keltin Moore?” he asked.
“Yes.”
“We’d like to ask you a few questions.”
“About what?”
The man cocked his head to the side slightly, reminding Keltin of a winged strangler. “You needn’t be so closed off. After all, this is not an official inquiry.”
“Then maybe you should introduce yourself.”
The man’s thin lips curled in a sneering smile. “All right. My name is Yassel Panz. I am the Prefect of the League here in Carris, tasked with keeping peace and order.”
Keltin gave a slight nod.
“Nice to meet you. I’m Keltin Moore.”
“Oh yes, I’ve already heard about you. A legendary beast hunter from Riltvin. Please, take a seat.”
Keltin sat on his bed as Panz took the only chair in the room, sitting with his back to the door and the two accompanying officers to either side of him. Harper stood in the far corner, all-but ignored by the MLP Prefect as he began his questioning.
“Tell me, Mr. Moore, what has brought you so far away from home?”
“I came to Krendaria to protect its northern farmlands fro
m the seasonal influx of monsters.”
“A noble and lucrative venture I’m sure. But, Mr. Moore, this is not Krendaria.” Panz’s voice was soft, but his eyes betrayed an edge to his questioning. “What brought you to Malpin, Mr. Moore?”
Keltin resisted the urge to glance towards Harper. As much as he would have preferred to have the newspaperman speak for the both of them, he realized that it would only increase Panz’s suspicions if Keltin didn’t speak for himself. Staring into the Prefect’s searching eyes, he tried to speak as much truth as he dared.
“My contract with my employer ended once the last of the crops were brought in. Work in Riltvin is often light during this time of year for beast hunters, so I thought I’d try my luck in Malpin and see if I could find some work here.”
“And how did you get across the closed border?”
Keltin braced himself as he plunged headlong into the lie.
“The border closed after I came across.”
Panz arched an eyebrow. “And yet here you are, miles north of the border. How odd that your first thought was not to immediately attempt to return home.”
Keltin shrugged, doing his best to look unperturbed. “As I said, my intention was to come to Malpin to seek out bounties. The fact that the border closed behind me had no bearing on that. Besides, I’d assumed that the closing of the border was to keep your own people in, not foreigners.”
Panz’s smile was predatory. “A closed border is not like a net, Mr. Moore, allowing some fish through while others remain caught. You may be ignorant of it, but let me assure you that you are indeed ‘caught’.”
Keltin’s eyes narrowed. “Well, I suppose I’ll just have to worry about that when I’m ready to go home.”
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