Trading Close To Light

by C. M. Simpson

  Marsh snorted.

  Repairs? Some of them needed replacement!

  Unfortunately, there’s no one I can ask to step into your shoes, Roeglin retorted, deliberately misreading what needed replacing. Seems none of them have that big a sense of adventure.

  Thanks, Ro.

  “What happens if we have a meeting today?”

  Roeglin pointed to a table where almost-completed garments were being worked on.

  “They’re making some quick alterations for that.”

  Marsh realized that, unlike the garments being made, these garments weren’t almost-completed but ready-made and being adjusted to fit. Every now and then, one of the seamstresses and tailors would stop work and cross to another table to glance at the page of measurements their colleagues were working from.

  Roeglin turned his attention back to Per.

  “Why?” he asked.

  “Because we have some paperwork for you to go over that might help in your investigations.”

  Roeglin raised his eyebrows and glanced at the tailors.

  “From the office?”

  Marsh straightened in her chair. There was only one office he could be referring to, and that was Kearick’s.

  “Where?” Roeglin wanted to know.

  “Upstairs.” Per gestured toward the tailors. “They won’t need us just yet, and I’ve told Monsieur Calais which room to come to. He assures me it is an acceptable arrangement.”

  Oh, he did, did he?

  She didn’t say it out loud, just waited for her uncle to explain, which he very shortly did.

  “Henri helped me.”

  He stood as he spoke and lifted the tray of pastries from the table. Gustav followed his example, taking the pitcher of hot kaffee and his mug. Roeglin lifted the chocolate, and together they headed for the stairs.

  “We’ll be upstairs, Dominique,” Per called, catching the tailor’s eye.

  Dominique paused in pinning the cloth of a pair of trousers and looked in his direction. When his eyes had roved over all of them, the tailor waved and nodded and went back to work. A few short moments later, and they were settled around a table in what looked like a meeting room set in one corner of the waystation’s second floor.

  Marsh frowned, looking around at the chamber—and Per smiled.

  “A while back we had a surface caravan that wanted somewhere ‘private’ to discuss business with its clients…and a way for those clients to attend the meeting without being seen coming and going.

  He crossed the room and lifted a lever hidden in the wall.

  “Here it is.”

  Marsh watched as a panel of stone slid aside to reveal a set of stairs leading down.

  “Comes out in a change room downstairs,” Per explained, “or the ladies powder room, depending on who needs it. I had to borrow a rock mage, and it took me a while to find one that wanted something I could actually find for them. Fortunately, hot baths haven’t gone out of fashion in the Deeps.”

  When they’d all come in and settled themselves around the table, he closed the door and joined them.

  “Before we begin,” he said, “you should know that Kearick left a couple of weeks ago. Took six heavily laden mules and headed for Dimanche, with a short detour through Downslopes in the hopes of meeting someone there. Didn’t say who, but I got the impression he wasn’t fussed. Sort of like it was a chance meeting.”

  A couple of weeks…

  “Did he plan on waiting to see who showed?” Marsh asked.

  A couple of weeks would put his departure just after they’d left Ruins Hall, almost a week after Madame Monetti’s assassination. Marsh wondered if Kearick was really running from them…or if there was someone else he was more afraid of. Of course, he could always be running to someone…

  “That’s interesting timing.” Roeglin’s voice brought her attention back to the table. “I wonder what triggered it.”

  Per shrugged, but the shadow mage wasn’t finished. He leaned back in his chair and regarded the station master with curious eyes.

  “How did you get the boxes out of Kearick’s office?”

  Per cast a glance at Henri and the big guard blushed.

  “That was me,” he said, continuing when Roeglin signaled for him to say more. “I worked for Kearick. He wanted me as a spare bodyguard, so he ran me through a trial run and then assigned me to one of his teams. Only problem was that when Jorj wanted me to look after Lennie on that last run. Kearick was furious. Threatened me with all sorts of mayhem, so I said I’d quit. He came round, said I could do this one final run, but I was to tell Jorj no more.”

  He paused, and Roeglin looked puzzled, like he hadn’t heard the story from Per already. If Marsh hadn’t known any better, she would have said he was testing Henri’s loyalty. It made her wonder what the caravan guard had done to make Roeglin feel he had to.

  You can never be too careful, the mage told her where no one else could hear it. Out loud, he said, “I still don’t understand how you got the boxes out before the guards came back.”

  “Kearick had a secret passage built. Came up under his desk. We just went in through that, same as when I snuck Per out before the guards came looking. We waited until they’d left and went back for the boxes before they could hunt us down at the bar.”

  He cast a quick glance over at Izmay and Zeb.

  “Helped that this lot called the shadows to hide us and muffle the sound. Didn’t know you could do that. Sneaky bastards, the lot of you.”

  Marsh smiled.

  Henri had every right to call them sneaky; he’d fallen afoul of their dirty tricks often enough during training. Hiding themselves in shadow shouldn’t have surprised Henri, but the muffling of sound was new. Marsh wanted to ask more about it, but Henri’s next words caught her by surprise.

  “Might get you to show me how. See if I can do a bit of what Jakob does when he calls the shadows to his sword. Fight we’re heading into, those tricks might just save a man’s life.”

  Might… Man had a point.

  Those tricks would go a darn sight further than ‘maybe’ saving a man’s life; they’d go pretty much to being the only thing that made a difference between his life and death. Marsh couldn’t blame Henri for hoping he had the ability to do the same things the shadow mages did.

  Roeglin glanced over at Gerry. From what Marsh could work out, the redheaded shadow mage was the senior of the three guards.

  “Gerry, when this meeting’s over, check him out and help him see what he can do.”

  Marsh noticed that Roeglin said nothing about there being some people who just weren’t able to wield the magic, just said it like Henri was going to manage it for sure. She studied his face and noticed not a smidgen of doubt—which was a good thing, given just a smidgen was all it would take to prevent Henri from finding out what magic he might have.

  “We got the files out the same way,” Per added. “I told the others what you’d found, and we thought the town guard might return for them. We didn’t want them disappearing, so we borrowed them for a while.”

  He gestured at several neatly stacked piles in front of him.

  “It’s interesting reading, but most of the names I’ve come across left town around the same time as Kearick.”

  Kearick, who’d sent the seeker to retrieve his goods and kill her. Kearick, who’d somehow heard of Madame Monetti’s fall and their plans to unlock the route between Kerrenin’s Ledge and Ruins Hall.

  Not necessarily, Roeglin said, but he didn’t expand on it.

  Marsh frowned.

  “Did any of them leave before him?”

  Per indicated the piles.

  “I’ve put them in groups according to the time they left. This one’s Kearick’s”

  Per had found five names, only one of which had left before Kearick. By the time Monsieur Calais knocked at the door for the first fitting, they’d found fifteen names, and by mid-afternoon, they had twenty.

  Jakob was outraged.
r />   “But I knew him. He was a decent sort of man.”

  “Don’t forget the raiders take family and hold them hostage.” Marsh indicated the piles. “There’s a good chance some of these might have relatives among the missing.”

  She turned to Per.

  “Are there abandoned farms or mining claims close to town?”

  His face darkened, and he nodded.

  “Like your parents,” he told her.

  “Anyone still living outside the walls?”

  He nodded.

  “Mika’s Outlet. It’s a small settlement. The Deeps know why they think they can hold off the raiders if they choose to come for them, but they do.”

  “Maybe they don’t need to hold them off,” Izmay said, and they all looked at her.

  She caught the expressions on their faces and shrugged.

  “All I’m saying is that there are other ways to stop someone from attacking you, and it doesn’t have to be strength. They might be cooperating with them.”

  “As much as I hate to admit it,” Roeglin said, “I agree. We’ll visit the community, but we’ll go carefully.”

  “We also need to know who these people associated with,” Gustav added.

  He tapped the nearest pile.

  “People like these…they have a lot of connections. Not all of them will have gone away.”

  He was about to say more when Daniel knocked at the door.

  “Messenger’s here,” he told them, and he could only mean the messenger from the council.

  “That took them a lot less time than I’d expected,” Per replied, pushing away from the table at the same time as Gustav. “Shall we?”

  11

  Attacks Without and Within

  “The Kerrenin’s Ledge Council requests your attendance tomorrow two hours before mid-meal,” the messenger said.

  She waited, not taking her eyes from Gustav and Roeglin. When they did not immediately respond, she spoke again.

  “The council requires your confirmation in reply.”

  “Two hours before mid-meal may not allow enough time for the matter to be considered,” Gustav told her. “Tell the council of our concerns, and that we will meet with them as required.”

  “Attendance confirmed, but there are concerns that the time allowed is not sufficient,” the messenger replied.

  “My exact wording,” Gustav insisted, and there was a hint of iron in his words.

  “Two hours before mid-meal may not allow enough time for the matter to be considered. Tell the council of our concerns, and that we will meet with them as required.”

  “Thank you.”

  The messenger turned about and strode across the dining room, the sound of her boots shifting from a swift walk to a trot the second she was out the door. Gustav and Roeglin stared at the door for a moment longer and then Gustav looked at the tailor.

  “Will you be ready by then?” he asked, and Dominique nodded.

  “I could also have your new outfit completed,” he said. “If you would rather wear that…”

  Gustav shook his head.

  “No, thank you.” His lips twitched into a small, grim smile. “I’d like to unveil the new outfits all at the same time. The impact…”

  He let the words trail off and made a gesture with his hand that said the tailor understood. Dominique’s face lit up.

  “That would be the best,” he said and went back to his work.

  Gustav interrupted him.

  “Have you and your people eaten?”

  From the puzzled look on the man’s face, the thought hadn’t crossed his mind, although Marsh noted Gustav’s question had caught the hopeful attention of several of the men and women working around the table.

  “I will send something,” Per told him. “That is, if you don’t mind.”

  Marsh saw anxiety flit through the expressions of the observing tailors and seamstresses, but Dominique nodded.

  “Please.”

  “I’ll provide beds for any who wish to overnight here rather than returning home.” He paused, catching the tailor’s eye. “I take it you’ll be working late…”

  “Of course.”

  Marsh watched money change hands at the other tables—quietly and secretively. Apparently, there were some members on the tailor’s team who didn’t know their master’s work habits. When Dominique’s attention shifted back to his work, Gustav cleared his throat.

  It was hard not to laugh at the man’s look of consternation, but Gustav didn’t waste any of his time.

  “Could I commission traveling clothes for my team?” he asked. “We’ll be here for at least a week, and their clothes were ruined on the journey.”

  That was an understatement.

  Marsh shuddered when she thought of the state her clothing was in. Blood from both shadow monsters and raiders stained the cloth, alongside patches of ichor and dirt—and the skirmishes they’d had clearing the road or defending their campsites had all left their marks. Marsh didn’t think there was any part of her clothes that didn’t have some kind of nick or tear.

  “Do you require an armorer?”

  Gustav studied him as though searching for some kind of deception.

  “Why do you ask?”

  The tailor smiled.

  “If your traveling clothes are in the condition you say, then the armor is most likely in need of repair—and I have an armorer whose work I’d recommend.”

  Gustav held his gaze a little longer and then dipped his chin.

  “If you could.”

  “Piet!”

  The youngest of the tailors set his work aside and crossed to his boss. The similarity of their features was obvious, and Marsh wondered what it would have been like growing up with and working for her parents at Downslopes. Loss seeped through her and she pushed the thought away, listening as Dominique gave Piet his orders.

  “Tell the smith to come see Per at Hawks Ledge for some work.”

  Well, at least the man had the manners to go through her uncle. It was his station, after all. She watched as Piet left, his blond hair bobbing in the glows’ light. The tailor turned back to Gustav.

  “Is there anything else?”

  Gustav shook his head.

  “No. Enjoy your meal.”

  As he spoke, Daniel and the red-haired server returned to the dining room carrying trays of pies and pastries. Instead of taking them to where the tailors and seamstresses were working, they set them on a separate table and returned to the kitchen. They were back moments later with cutlery and crockery and set about laying places so everyone could eat.

  When Gustav turned to go back up the stairs, Daniel glanced in his direction.

  “I’m only serving lunch once,” he said, his tone brusque.

  Marsh noticed Per color but he held his tongue. Gustav returned Daniel’s glance, his lips thinning in mild annoyance—and then he smiled.

  “Good. Then you can serve it upstairs so we can eat while we work.” He turned and headed up to the second floor, not giving the cook time to respond.

  As if on cue, Henri and the other guards followed, and Roeglin looked at Marsh.

  “You coming?” he asked, but what he added was more for Daniel’s benefit than hers. “Gustav gets tetchy when his work is interrupted.”

  “Coming,” Marsh confirmed, but Per hesitated.

  “I need to help prepare for the evening meal,” he said. “I’ll have other customers arriving soon.”

  The tailor opened his mouth, but Per was ready.

  “I’ll keep your space clear,” he told Dominique. “There’s not as many as there used to be.”

  Marsh remembered the small group of merchants that had been present when they’d arrived the day before, and it struck her that he was right. Before she’d left for Ruins Hall, the Hawks Ledge restaurant and bar had been busy every night.

  “People don’t like going out after dark,” Per explained. “That and the lack of trade means things are tight for a lot of folks.”


  He gestured at the tailors.

  “You’re doing a lot of good here.”

  As he spoke, the door opened, and the merchants she remembered from the previous night came through. Their leader, a solidly built man with sandy hair, looked around the dining room, his eyes widening when he saw the tables laden with cloth and partially-finished garments. When he found Per, though, he came straight over.

  “Stationmaster,” he said, “I trust you are open for business.”

  It was less a question and more a demand for service, but Per greeted the man with a wide smile.

  “We are always open for business where you are concerned, Master Gage. Let me show you to a table.”

  Marsh and Roeglin headed for the stairs, not wanting to keep Gustav waiting, but they had just reached the bottom of the steps when a bell began to toll. That was new. Marsh stopped and looked at her uncle.

  He was standing, his head lifted as he listened to the bell and the cacophony of lighter chimes that followed it.

  “There are raiders attacking the Deeps wall.” He paused, looking at Marsh. “That’s the wall facing the route leading to Ruins Hall.”

  A third set of chimes joined the first two, these harsher and more like the clanging of the bells worn by moutons when they were released into a cavern to graze. Per’s face turned grave as the tailors set their meals on the tables and headed for the door.

  “They’re calling everyone to assist,” he said, and then looked at the trader even as he hurried over to the bar. “I’m sorry, Master Gage, but the city needs us.”

  The trader snorted as though claiming the Ledge was a city was beyond belief. Per ignored him but waved a hand toward the food that had been set out for the tailors.

  “If you’re hungry, you can share the tailors’ lunch…or I’m sure your assistance would be appreciated on the wall.”

  That caught the trader’s attention.

  “Appreciated?” he asked, and Per nodded, pulling a sword belt and sword from beneath the counter and strapping it to his waist.

  “Oh, yes,” he said, reaching back under the counter to take out a sturdy crossbow. Marsh realized his belt had a quiver of bolts hanging opposite his blade.

  “Dani—” but Marsh’s cousin shoved open the kitchen doors and hurried across the dining hall.