False Dawn: Ageless Mysteries - Book 2

by Vanessa Nelson

  “I am about to go out on patrol and thought you might like some tea, ma’am,” he said. He held out a mug. There was a trail of steam rising from the liquid.

  She blinked. It was so unexpected that she was tempted to ask him to repeat the words.

  But, no, it really was a mug of tea. He set it down towards the edge of the desk, in one of the few clear spots.

  She realised that they were the only two people in the building. The rest of the Watch was out on patrol. Or in one of the local taverns. So there was no one to witness the young Watchman’s act of kindness.

  She did not blame him for his caution. The Sergeant had picked her as the target for his bullying. He was small-minded and mean, and she was quite sure was capable of turning his attention to others as well.

  “Thank you,” she managed to say.

  “Is that Watchman Drew’s report, ma’am?” the junior Watchman asked. Everson, she remembered. He had been born far from the city, judging by his accent and the burnished shade of his skin. Somewhere far to the south, she thought.

  “It is,” she said, setting it down and picking up the tea. Her head was thumping and her back ached. Too long sitting, scowling as she tried to work her way through the odd spellings and terrible handwriting.

  “He writes just like one of my uncles. I was the only one who could read his writing. I can try, if you like, ma’am?”

  “I would like. Yes, please.” Thea handed the paper across to the junior Watchman and blinked in amazement as he took one glance at the paper and then read it aloud to her with almost no hesitation.

  “Is that alright, ma’am?” he asked, when she had been staring at him for far too long.

  “Watchman Everson, you are a treasure,” Thea told him, taking the paper back. “You have saved me from another headache. Thank you.”

  “My pleasure, ma’am,” he said, colour rising in his face. He glanced aside at the sound of heavy footsteps. “Is there anything else?”

  “No. That is more than enough, thank you,” Thea said.

  The Watchman moved away, heading for the crossbow rack to one side of the room, as the Sergeant and Watchman Drew came into the room, their heads together, talking in unusually quiet tones.

  Thea’s brows rose to her hairline before she managed to control her expression. She had never seen the Sergeant here after the day shift had ended.

  “Is that report ready yet, March?” the Sergeant asked. His normally florid face was a bright shade of red. He’d been absent from the Watch Station when she had arrived for her shift a few hours ago. Apart from long lunches at some of the local taverns, usually with one or more of the Watch from this station, she had no idea what he found to do to pass the time, and was not sure she wanted to know.

  He had left her instructions, though. Conveyed by one of the other Watchmen. She was to prepare the week’s report for the Watch Captain. After the past few weeks, she had been expecting the order. As well as giving her a chance to find out what was going on in the district, it also gave her something to do.

  “Not yet, sir,” she answered, not bothering to get up from her chair. He normally insisted that she stand to talk to him, but he was on the other side of the room.

  “Well, get on with it. It needs to be with the captain tomorrow.”

  “Yes, sir,” she said.

  He glared at her from across the room, and for a moment she wondered if he was going to march over to her and make his point more forcefully. She set the mug down, meeting his gaze.

  He had never frightened her. He was human, over-confident in his power and abilities. He did, however, have power over her as her senior officer. When she had begun to understand him she had taken care to do her job and avoid conflict with him. Her promotion was still quite new, and it was too early to apply for a transfer to another station. She needed to work here, and with him, for a while longer at least.

  Besides that, a few weeks ago she had faced a creature from a nightmare. And survived. Compared to the escalus she had helped to kill, the Sergeant was an irritation, nothing more.

  She was not sure what he saw in her face, but he glowered at her, and turned back to Watchman Drew. The pair of them went into the Sergeant’s office and shut the door behind them. She wondered briefly what they were so busy talking about, then turned back to the papers scattered across her desk. And the mug of tea, which was still hot. And perfectly made.

  The report was done by the time the Sergeant and Watchman Drew left.

  Thea eyed their backs with a mix of curiosity and envy as they headed out. They looked as serious as she had ever seen them. And they were both normally on the day shift. She could not imagine what it was that had brought them back to the station, and the Sergeant’s office, out of hours.

  They left her without a backward glance. And with nothing more to do. Something she had never expected, when she had signed on to the Watch. She had imagined a busy working life, with little time for idleness. And that had mostly been true. Until she had come to this station and, simply by being here, made an enemy of her Sergeant.

  He didn’t know what had happened with the escalus. No one knew, apart from her and Mage Niath. All the Sergeant did know was that there had been some kind of incident in his district, involving one of the shop keepers, and that she had been involved. There was a burned-out shop not far from the station, and an extraordinary amount of gossip and speculation about what had happened.

  And so he was keeping her on a tight rein, mostly confined to the station.

  Which left her feeling restless.

  The report was done.

  The station’s filing was up to date. A task normally carried out by junior Watchmen, but as Thea had been stuck in the station anyway, she had done it.

  She was even considering washing the station’s mugs or clearing out the cupboard next to the kettle. The last time she had opened the cupboard door she thought she had seen something move. It would probably be disgusting inside. But at least it would not be boring.

  The Sergeant had decided that as the only Watch Officer on the swing shift, she should stay around the station as much as possible. In case she was needed.

  It was stupid reasoning, and just another petty order from him. But Thea had not felt able to contradict him. She was the only Watch Officer on the swing shift. Neither of the station’s other two officers wanted anything to do with the swing shift. They confined themselves to the day shift, when they were not at lunch with the Sergeant.

  The Watchman who normally manned the front desk of the station had taken advantage of her presence to make himself scarce as well. So she could not leave the station now, even if she wanted to, as it needed at least one person on duty at all times.

  She checked the clock on the wall for the hundredth time. It was moving far too slowly for her liking. But it was not long now until she could leave. And then she had the prospect of actually getting to do her job in the morning, questioning the herbalist.

  CHAPTER TWO

  Delilah Soames was perhaps the oldest human that Thea had ever met. She must have been a formidable woman in her youth, standing as tall as Thea, with broad shoulders and brilliant red hair. Seen in the cool morning light, and carrying her many years, Delilah’s shoulders were stooped with age, and her hair was now mostly vivid white, with some red threaded through, set in braids that were curled around her head. Her eyes, brilliant blue, were sharp, narrowed in displeasure as she saw one of the Watch coming into her stall.

  In the way of many traders around the market, Delilah had set up a wooden stall at the front of her modest workshop, which meant that she could keep an eye on whatever she had brewing whilst she served her customers, and see whatever was happening in the market.

  “Good day to you, ma’am,” Thea said, ducking under the front of the stall. There were strings of herbs hung there, no doubt intended to advertise the herbalists’ work. Unfortunately, Thea’s sensitive nose told her that most of the herbs were decayed, and a few of th
em were mouldy.

  “What can I do for the Watch?” Delilah asked.

  For some reason, her attitude reminded Thea of the Watch’s scientific examiner, Dina Soter. Dina was probably less than half Delilah’s age, but had the same direct way of speaking.

  “I wanted to ask you about this,” Thea said, holding out the small pottery jar with the lid still firmly sealed. After looking into the jar, she had left it in the Watch Station overnight, in her own locker for safety.

  “It’s a pottery jar,” Delilah said, jaw tightening.

  Thea set the jar down on the plain wooden table in front of the herbalist and carefully prised off the lid. The contents were undisturbed. They looked like flakes of soap. Thea had only seen flaked soap once or twice before in her life. It was generally too expensive for everyday use, usually being sold in upmarket shops for wealthy patrons. Most ordinary folk would have a solid bar of soap that they used for their hair and bodies. Or if they were wealthier or, in Thea’s case, had a mother who was an expert apothecary, jars of thick liquid soap for their hair.

  “Looks like soap,” Delilah said. “Smells fresh. What of it?”

  Thea glanced up at the woman. She was hiding something.

  “I got this jar from William Young, the merchant. He said he bought it here.”

  “Might have done. I’ve sold a few of those jars.”

  “He said you sold it to him to help with hair regrowth,” Thea said.

  “I’m no mage,” Delilah said, snorting with laughter. “Regrowing hair, indeed.”

  “What did you tell him it was for, then?” Thea asked.

  “Soap,” Delilah said, sticking her chin out. “Pure and simple. And if he says different, then he’s lying.”

  “Well, he’s not lying about the fact it dyed his skin blue,” Thea said, spilling some of the soap onto the table top. There was a pitcher of water close by and she lifted it, pouring a little water over the flakes of soap on the table top.

  The soap dissolved into a brilliant shade of blue.

  “That’s not my soap,” Delilah said, taking a step away from the table, all humour done, her bones of her face showing as her expression tightened. “I don’t use dyes like that.”

  “So where did it come from?” Thea asked, puzzled by the woman’s reaction.

  “I don’t know. But he didn’t get it here.” The earlier confidence was gone. Delilah looked shaken. Frightened.

  “What’s wrong?” Thea asked, re-sealing the jar and picking it up.

  “Nothing. You need to leave. Get out.”

  “Ma’am, I have a complaint to investigate. Questions to ask,” Thea began, frowning.

  Delilah was backing away from her, towards the open door of her shop. Her eyes darted past Thea’s shoulder and her face tightened. More fear.

  Curious, Thea turned to see who was behind her.

  The market was surprisingly quiet for mid-morning. But there were four men lined up outside Delilah’s stall. They wore working clothes. Plain cloth tunics that split at the side and hung to their knees, worn over breeches made of heavier cloth and sturdy shoes. They also had what looked like weapons tucked into their belts. Short, thick sticks that were similar to the cudgels used by the Watch.

  They were staring at her with almost identical scowls. Not pleased to see her here. Or not pleased to see her talking to Delilah. It was not clear which. Interesting.

  Thea tucked the jar away in a pouch at her belt before taking a step forward, towards the men, curious as to their purpose.

  They hadn’t been expecting that. The scowls lifted a fraction into surprise.

  “Can I help you, sirs?” Thea asked.

  “What’s your business here?” one of the two in the middle asked. There was a hint of grey in his hair and in the scruffy beard covering the lower part of his face. There was also a jagged scar running from underneath the beard up to one of his ears. Someone had injured him badly a long time ago.

  “Watch business,” Thea said, keeping her voice pleasant and even. “What’s your business here?”

  “We ask the questions round here, little girl,” one of the other men said. He was the youngest of the group, chin jutting out, chest puffed up.

  Thea fought the impulse to laugh. He was probably a year or two older than her. Perhaps in his early thirties. Nothing more. Certainly not old enough to call her a girl.

  “I’m an officer of the Watch,” she said. “Now, let me pass,” she added, taking another step forward.

  They didn’t move. Of course not.

  Closer to them, she caught the faint smell of fried onions and cooked meat. They all smelled the same. So they had eaten together.

  Her brows lifted. She had not heard of any gangs operating in the marketplace, but then again, none of the other Watchmen would have told her. The information she had about the district mostly came from compiling the weekly reports for the Watch Captain, and rumours of a gang had never been mentioned.

  “Watch Officer March. How pleasant to see you again.” The voice sounded familiar, though she couldn’t place it immediately.

  Whoever it was, his arrival had an immediate impact on the line of men in front of her. They all stepped aside. They were still frowning, but the threat was gone.

  As they moved aside, Thea saw Matthew Shand standing nearby. He had a sack over one shoulder that looked like it was full. He was wearing similar clothes to the four men, but all resemblance ended there.

  Unlike the four men who had been facing her, the newcomer was not human. He was hiding his other aspect well, as most non-humans did, but Thea knew the truth. He was night kind. The leader of the local night kind clan, in fact. In his human aspect, he was a compact man standing around the height of her shoulder, with skin weathered from outdoor work and the grey of his eyes reflected in his mid-brown hair. Thea had only met him at night before, but he was as comfortable in daylight as he had been in the dark.

  “Good day to you, sir,” Thea said, moving through the line of human men, away from Delilah Soames’ stall. The herbalist had not given her any information, and Thea was not going to get anything more from her with an audience. The four strangers seemed to be far more interested in threatening Thea than Delilah, for now at any rate.

  “I don’t think I’ve seen you here before,” Matthew commented.

  “Probably not,” Thea agreed.

  He waved a hand and she fell into step beside him, moving away from Delilah’s stall, both of them walking with no hurry, deliberately casual.

  “Doing some shopping, Officer?”

  “Making enquiries,” she answered, sending him a sideways glance. “Did you just come to my rescue?” That was what it had felt like, although she was not sure why. She did not think they were friends and he did not owe her anything.

  “By no means. I think you had the situation well under control. But a public brawl would attract attention.”

  “So you were avoiding an incident,” she said, mouth twitching. It made sense. In this city, humans outnumbered everyone else. The night kind survived by keeping quiet, living their own lives and not interfering in others’ affairs. She understood that way of living very well. She had spent most of her life trying to do the same.

  As they walked, she could see other night kind moving among the stalls. More of the clan, she guessed, even though she did not know their faces. Very few humans would ever know the difference. But Thea was not human, and she had training that very few people ever received. The night kind moved with a fraction more grace than the humans. They tried to hold themselves to the slower, more clumsy human movements, and most of them did it very well. Thea was familiar with the technique. She used it every day. Blending in with the mostly human population. Walking about in plain sight.

  Far from protecting her, Matthew had been protecting his people. As a good leader would. The population of the city was mostly human, and many of them were wary of the other kinds. So many of the other kinds, like Matthew’s clan, took care to
wear their human faces and blend in as much as possible.

  “Thank you anyway,” she said. “I don’t like public brawls either.”

  “If you have business with the herbalist again, I would suggest early morning is a good time to speak with her. There are fewer people around then,” Matthew said. His voice was light, as if passing on a bit of information she might find useful. As if it was of no consequence. His particular type of night kind, the fiandar, drew in their prey with charm and seduction, and even in his human aspect some of that seeped through as he smiled at her. “Good day to you, Officer March.”

  “Good day to you, sir,” Thea said.

  They parted company, Thea heading back to the Watch Station. She would be early for her shift. But she would get nothing more from Delilah Soames today. And without the night kind’s presence, was likely to find the cudgels the four men had carried drawn against her.

  CHAPTER THREE

  The Sergeant did not appear at the station at all, which was a relief. With the station manned, and no specific instructions left for her, Thea took her chance to head outdoors.

  She spent her afternoon idly wandering the streets of Brightfield, exchanging a few greetings here and there with familiar faces. She had not been in the district long enough to know everyone, or to know many names. Not yet, anyway. The Watch was tolerated here, though, their close-fitting, dark red uniforms of long-sleeved buttoned-up tunic, trousers and sturdy boots standing out amid the more common browns, greens and blues and looser-fitting clothing worn by ordinary folk. And everyone would know what the badge at her lapel meant. Bronze was for officers. And Thea’s unblemished badge marked her as a junior officer. More senior officers’ badges tended to get scratched and dented over the years. She had not had hers long enough for any wear and tear to show.

  The citizens of Brightfield that she encountered during her wander were well-behaved, and she was back in the station when the day shift ended, mindful of the Sergeant’s order that he wanted an officer in the station. Even so, she had no official tasks to do until the morning, when she could go back to try and get some answers out of Delilah again.