The Inquisitives [4] The Darkwood Mask (22 page)

“Marvelous work, as always.”

“I know,” she answered, accepting the compliment, “but I don’t want to see you here again. King’s fire is on you, and the authorities are stirring all over the city. Clear things up or don’t come back. Fair enough?”

The Midwife’s motherly tones carried a true sense of menace. Tallis looked to Ranec, who minutes ago had gently applied a shaving razor to his throat. Now the changeling fingered a fine-bladed stiletto.

“Fair enough.”

Soneste searched the archives of the
Korth Sentinel
for two hours before finding the same article that Tallis had tacked to his wall. With Jotrem working nearby, she quickly skimmed the article and buried it again among the stacks of broadsheets. She wasn’t about to discuss the particulars of her research with him.

The full article described an event which place in 974 YK. Twenty-six sons and daughters of Karrnath were put to the sword by the Aundairians who’d captured them. Before they could burn the bodies—an Aundairian policy when battling Karrns—the enemies were routed by a platoon of undead infantry led by a bone knight. The recovered bodies were, of course, claimed by the royal corpse collectors and became property of the state.

Why was this article of such interest to Tallis? Or was it some arbitrary clipping, meant to mislead anyone who found his residence?

Soneste spent the next hour cross-referencing the skirmish against a roster of the dead maintained by the Ministry. Hyran had granted her limited access to Karrnath’s archived casualty reports. The battle was a minor one and hadn’t even been named, but the date allowed her to find the names of the fallen.

Then she found something, the fifth name on the list from that unnamed battle in 974 YK.

Recruit number 966-5-1372. Captain Tallis.

The Midnight Market
Zol, the 10th of Sypheros, 998 YK

A
t sunset, Tallis had taken to the streets again, confident he could move around freely in his new disguise. He’d followed every possible lead in search of Haedrun, yet every dead end pointed back to the one place he might be able to find her—the Midnight Market.

Having confirmed the Market’s location for this week, Tallis set out to find himself something to eat. He turned onto one of the major roads and was startled by a lone figure trudging towards him, moving slowly away from the docks beneath a suspicious burden.

It was an older man, the lower half of his trousers soaked through as though he’d opted to take a midnight swim in the river but had changed his mind at the last moment. He carried a large, leather-wrapped bundle over one shoulder and steadied his pace with a metal-shod staff. Two feet, one missing a shoe, stuck out of the bundle at one end.

Under the circumstances, Tallis knew he ought to just keep moving, but something about the man gave him pause. Perhaps it was the holy symbol of Dol Dorn the stranger wore around his neck or the glimmer of moisture in his eyes. Despite his solemn
burden, the man was no corpse collector. He looked more like some errant pilgrim.

“Need some help, friend?” Tallis asked, surprised that he really meant it.

The man looked him up and down then smiled sadly. “I fear not,” he answered, continuing on with weary steps. “He’s already dead. I thank you, though.”

“Of course,” Tallis said in parting, doubting the man even heard him.

He watched the stranger walk away. Maybe it was the man’s dignified bearing or the holy symbol he wore, but he’d brought Lenrik to mind—a resilient, battle-hardened man who hadn’t let the war steal his compassion from him. It weighed heavily on Tallis that he’d relied so much upon his old friend in this crisis. He’d been forced to stay the night in Lenrik’s undercroft yet again.

The Brelish inquisitive had found his flat. The ever-predictable Jotrem had staked it out all night from across the street, counting on Tallis to return like some idiot cutpurse. At least the Brelish girl knew better. She’d pulled whatever clues there were and left it behind. Still, it wasn’t safe for him to return there again. The Justice Ministry would have it on file. Damn it, it had been one of his favorite haunts.

But edible birds didn’t live long—he had to let it go.

Still, how long would he need to keep relying on Lenrik? Tallis supposed that’d depend on what he learned from Haedrun tonight. The thought helped him refocus. There was work do to.

It was midnight. Tallis left Aureon’s shrine and made his way, tier by tier, down the city. Whenever he passed a patrol of Lions, he strode by with the pretense of an important house errand. The signet brooch upon his lapel proclaimed his affiliation with the Windwrights Guild, and that was enough to satisfy most without comment. Under other circumstances, Tallis might have enjoyed
playing up the role of a scion of the House Lyrandar, but this wasn’t a time for role-playing. This was survival.

In the plaza at the center of the Community Ward, Tallis passed beneath the giant-sized statue of Karrn the Conqueror. He glanced up at the grim, marble countenance of Karrnath’s namesake and greatest hero. The famous warlord had fought for and established human civilization upon Khorvaire millennia ago. In his wake, Karrnath and eventually Galifar itself had been founded.

A small entourage of well-dressed revelers emerged from the street on the opposite side of the plaza. Despite their languid stroll, a handful of guards kept pace on either side.

Tallis felt a stab of fear as he realized the latter were members of the Conqueror’s Host—the king’s own royal guard, among the finest soldiers in the land! They weren’t wearing their customary silver and black surcoats, no doubt pretending to be hired bodyguards so as not to draw attention, but Tallis recognized the signature greatswords strapped to their backs, weapons specially commissioned at the Bluefist of Mror. Not many would.

To his dismay, the young revelers moved to intercept him. The nobles walked close together, most hanging upon each other, a couple bottles of Nightwood passing back and forth among them.

“Where at this late hour do
you
go, friend?” one of the men asked, slurring the words. The girl on his arm giggled.

Tallis doffed his hat and offered a smile, aware that the flanking soldiers were eyeing him. Under the wisplights, his brooch gleamed silver and bright. “To Rivergate, my young friend. I must charter more vessels to ensure a steady stream of exotic wines into the keeping of gentlemen such as yourself.”

There were awkward laughs and a “Well, carry on!” or two in response, but Tallis caught the eye of a young woman in their midst who was obviously
not
amused by her companions’ antics. Something in her pretty face—an expression, perhaps—reminded him of the Brelish inquisitive. This girl was at least a few years younger than she, but the secluded look in her eyes seemed familiar somehow.

Tallis gave a half-bow to the entourage and continued his
course. When he had left them behind and entered another darkened avenue, Tallis stopped and looked back. Wait, he thought, the Conqueror’s Host! Had that young woman been—?

“Keep moving,” issued a strident voice from the shadows.

A figure in black and white resolved itself from the darkness. Tallis could not repress his scowl in the face of the tall figure in bonecraft armor who held a broadsword freely in hand. Very bad memories rose to the fore, but Tallis pushed them away.

“Of course,” Tallis answered. “I only—”

“Look to your own business,” the knight said. Tallis felt the presence of a second knight walking on the other side of the street, eyeing him dangerously.

“As you say, sir,” he replied without enthusiasm. A delayed parlance would lead only to violence. Now was not the time to act on principle alone.

Tallis soon entered the Low District, letting the cool air calm his nerves. He was heedless of the quiet, vacated streets, reflecting as he was upon the brief encounter.

Unless he was mistaken, that had been Princess Borina herself—youngest daughter of Breland’s own king—in the company of Korth’s gallivanting aristocrats. Gamnon’s death certainly
had
increased security within the city’s garrison. It only made sense that the royal court would be taking new steps to ensure the safety of
all
its foreign guests.

And rightly so. King Kaius III was one of the chief supporters of lasting peace. Lacking children of his own, he’d sent his sister to Breland and his brother to Thrane as part of the diplomatic exchange.

And now? Bone knights escorting Brelish royalty. Tallis choked at the irony.

Without further incident, he reached the district’s western edge at the base of the cliff wall that sequestered it below the
manors of the High District. There he spied his destination, a narrow street junction with a lone wisplight swaying from its post under the cold autumn breeze.

For just a moment, the pure white light flickered as if the lantern’s magic were failing—then it shone anew. Two minutes later it pulsed again, confirming the location of the Market for those who knew how to look for it. Utter darkness lay beyond the lantern’s reach.

The Midnight Market appeared every Zol at the appointed hour, each time in a new location within the Low District. None could say in advance where it would set up again, but the shadow players who planned its movements had ways of spreading word of the next location to the right people.

The Justice Ministry knew about the Market, of course, but on those rare occasions when it gathered the resources to find it, the fences and their clientele always vanished into the Low District’s innumerable dark holes. Finding the Market’s planners was impossible. The few rogues the White Lions had caught were incapable of revealing the next location. In a city where even petty infractions were punishable by death, the criminal element had to compensate.

Tallis turned the corner, passing easily through the curtain of magical darkness that concealed tonight’s chosen street from ignorant passers-by. He was once told that the effect was supplied each week by an anonymous heir of House Thuranni who possessed the Mark of Shadow.

Behind the magic veil, artificial twilight reigned. A host of candles and floating magelights displayed a city block full of dubious, whispering hawkers, street fences, and purveyors of every vice and contraband available in Karrnath.

Tallis fell easily into the crowd and began his hunt for Haedrun.