A moment later and a Watchman appeared. He was stumbling a little as he ran, but raised a hand when he saw her.
“Will you stay here and make sure nothing is disturbed?” she asked Niath.
“Of course. And, don’t worry, I won’t touch anything,” he added, mouth tilting in a smile.
Thea ignored the mischief and made her way back around the ruined house and along the fence to meet the Watchman, who had reached the fence around the fruit thicket.
“Thank you for answering,” she said to the Watchman. He was a middle-aged man, belly overhanging his belt.
“Ma’am. You called for help?” he asked, words coming in short bursts between heavy breaths.
“Yes. There’s a dead body in the house back there. We need Physician Pallas and Examiner Soter here as soon as possible. And the captain will want to be informed. Can you call messengers?”
“Messengers? Yes, I can do that, ma’am,” he said. He looked relieved. Perhaps at the realisation that he wouldn’t need to run back to his station.
“Good. The physician and examiner might be at Caroline March's shop in Lowcroft. So send a messenger there and to Brightfield House. The captain should be in his office.”
“Yes, ma’am, I’ll get that done.”
“Thank you. Watchman …?”
“Hobbs, ma’am.”
“Any relation to Algar Hobbs?” Thea asked, brows lifting. It was a reasonably common name, but Watchman Hobbs had mentioned having relatives in the Watch across the city.
“My uncle, ma’am,” the Watchman answered with a grin. “There’s a few of us Hobbs in the Watch.”
“And we’re lucky to have you. I’m Thea March,” she told him.
“Mistress March's daughter? Your mother is a fine woman, miss. Er, ma’am.”
“That she is.”
“I’ll get those messengers sent for, ma’am.” He had got some of his breath back and turned away from Thea to send out four short bursts on his whistle, the Watch’s request for a messenger, and then repeated it twice more. Summoning three messengers.
When he had done that, Thea asked him to summon another Watchman. There was a possible murderer roaming the streets with a Watch tag on him. Thea gave him a description of the man she had seen. Watchman Hobbs’ face darkened to a frown that somehow reminded Thea strongly of his uncle, and he promised to see to it right away.
Leaving him to his tasks, Thea went back to find Niath frowning at the pony.
“What is it?”
“I’m sure I’ve seen that creature before,” Niath said.
“Oh? Can you remember where?”
“No, and it’s annoying me.” Niath had his arms folded in front of him, fingers tapping his elbow in an impatient rhythm.
“There aren’t that many ponies in the city,” Thea said.
“I know,” Niath said, still frowning.
“Try not to think about it, and you’ll probably remember. Shall we check its packs?” Thea suggested.
“Won’t that annoy Examiner Soter?”
“Possibly, but I’m prepared to risk it,” she said, making her way towards the pony.
It eyed her with disfavour as she approached, and its lip twitched. She stopped a few paces away as it began to turn its hindquarters to her.
“It does not look at all friendly,” Niath said, stopping beside her.
“No, it does not. Can you go around the other side? It can’t kick both of us at once,” she said.
“But you’re happy for it to kick me?”
“I trust you to move out of the way,” Thea answered, moving alongside the pony. It seemed to regard Niath as the greater threat, turning its head to follow his movements, which allowed Thea to get close enough to take hold of its bridle.
The pony snorted and tried to rear up. Thea applied some of her strength to the bridle and the pony planted all four feet on the ground, snorting again, and lifting its lip, showing flat, yellowing teeth.
“It’s alright,” Niath said, in a soothing voice. He was holding something out to the pony. Thea loosened her grip slightly, giving the pony room to turn towards Niath.
The pony sniffed the offering with suspicion, then took it, far more gently than Thea would have imagined possible, chewing whatever it was Niath had given it. The pony’s eyes widened, and it head-butted Niath, asking for more.
“Is that oatcake?” Thea asked.
“Yes. Horses seem to like it, so I wondered if a pony would, too. There’s nothing harmful in it,” Niath added.
“It’s certainly improved its mood,” Thea said, keeping one hand on the pony’s bridle as she lifted the flap on the nearest saddle bag. By chance, she was at the side that the man had put the pouch into. It was an ordinary leather pouch tied with a leather lace. She tugged the lace open one-handed, and the familiar gleam of metal met her eyes. “More coins.”
“And more grass,” Niath reported from the other side. He had found a cloth wrapping and opened it to show more of the grass bundles like the ones on the table inside.
“I wonder what that is,” Thea said. “Perhaps Dina knows.”
“Or your mother?” Niath suggested.
“I suppose.” Thea was not sure if Niath would understand her reluctance to involve her mother. Whoever was behind the forgeries was courting serious danger and the wrath of the Ageless. Thea and her mother had spent a long time hiding from the Ageless and avoiding anything to do with them. Given the choice, Thea would have preferred to keep it that way.
“Someone is coming,” Niath said. He put the cloth bundle back in the pony’s saddlebag and moved away.
The younger Watchman Hobbs was making his way along the side of the ruined building.
“Ma’am. I’ve sent the messengers off and there’s a pair of Watchmen out looking for the tagged man,” the Watchman reported, looking around him with curiosity. “I haven’t been here for ages. No one comes here unless there’s fruit on the bushes. And what is that awful smell?”
“Someone put herbs under the fruit bushes,” Thea said, pointing. “That’s what you can smell.”
“It’s foul,” he said, pulling a bright white handkerchief from a pocket and holding it over his nose. “Ma’am, if you don’t mind, I’ll wait on the street for the examiner and physician.”
“That would be helpful, thank you,” Thea said, frowning slightly as he left. Watchman Hobbs was human through and through, with a less acute sense of smell. For him to be so badly affected by the plant meant that someone had known what they were doing in picking that particular herb to plant.
“What is it?” Niath asked.
“That herb. It’s been planted deliberately. I thought it was hiding the smell of the furnace, but it might have been to put people off coming here. Who would want to eat fruit when the air smelled bad?”
CHAPTER NINETEEN
"By the Ageless, what is that stench?”
Dina’s voice broke the companionable silence that had fallen between Thea and Niath. They had taken up positions, almost without consultation, at either end of the building, keeping a lookout. For what, Thea was not sure, just that it seemed important to keep watch. Perhaps in case the forger came back, looking for his pony and the coins he had made.
Dina muttered curse words as she came around the side of the building, Iason behind her.
“Good day to you, ma’am,” Thea said.
“It’s Dina. And what in the name of the Ageless is that stink?”
“Someone planted herbs under the fruit bushes on the other side of the building,” Thea said. “Probably to keep people away.”
“Well, it would certainly work on me,” Dina said, pinching the bridge of her nose. “Did you bring a candle with you?” she asked, turning to Iason.
“Of course,” the physician said. It was difficult to tell under his beard, but Thea thought that he was also looking pained. She knew he was not human, either, and wondered if his species, whatever it was, had as acute a sense of smell as the Age
less-born.
Iason set his physician’s bag down next to the fallen wall and pulled out a large, shallow dish which contained candle wax and several wicks. He lit the wicks from a striker also brought from his bag, and set the candle on a higher point of the tumbled wall. “This is the body?” he asked, peering over the wall.
“Yes, sir,” Thea said. “Delilah Soames.”
“She was a herbalist, wasn’t she? With a stall in Brightfield market,” Iason said, gathering up his bag and making his way to the entrance to the building.
“Yes, sir.” Thea realised that her eyes were no longer stinging. Whatever was in the candle was doing its job. She took a step closer to the building and the fresh scent of citrus cut through the air. The scent that she associated with Iason’s mortuary. Whatever magic had been used to keep the mortuary smelling fresh despite the dead lying within it, had been added to the candle.
“Did you touch her?” Dina asked, putting her own bag down at the entrance to the building. Iason had gone inside and was kneeling by Delilah.
“No, ma’am. Er, Dina. We didn’t go into the building. There was a man here when we arrived. The Watch are looking for him. He was loading the pony,” Thea added, glancing across at Niath. The mage had been very quiet. He was still standing in his watch position, most of his attention apparently on the back walls of the distant houses that he could see.
“This is where the coins were made?” Dina asked, eyeing the furnace. “It looks recent.”
“Yes,” Thea agreed.
“Alright, let me work for a bit.” Dina went inside the building.
Thea stayed where she was. She had a fairly good view into the ruined building to watch Iason and Dina work, and could keep an eye on their surroundings as well.
“When did you last see Mistress Soames?” Iason asked a few moments later.
“A few days ago,” Thea said, frowning for a moment as she tried to remember. It had been a busy few days. “Three days.”
“She’s not been dead long. Perhaps a day,” Iason told her.
“May I come closer?” Thea asked.
“Yes,” Iason said, and then looked up, glancing across at Dina. “I assume that’s alright?”
“Yes. There’s been an army of clumsy oafs through here. Not much to get from the ground. Just don’t touch anything, Thea,” Dina said. She was crouching by the furnace, stirring whatever was inside it with what looked like a poker.
“Thank you,” Thea said. She glanced at Niath and exchanged a brief nod with the mage, somehow understanding that he would continue to keep watch, then moved into the building. “What are your findings so far, sir?” she asked Iason, careful to stand outside his direct light.
“She was stabbed in the chest,” the physician said, his tone dry. He glanced up at Thea. “I’m sure you saw that.”
“Yes,” Thea agreed, and crouched down to get a better look. “She was stabbed in the front, though. She was a tall woman, at least as tall as I am, and although she was old she was not weak.”
“I agree,” Iason said. He carefully lifted the front of Delilah’s shirt away from the wound. “It looks like a direct puncture through her chest into her heart.”
Thea’s brows lifted. Along with the weapons training, her mother had provided her with lessons in anatomy. “Straight through the bone?”
“Yes.” Iason’s face tightened as he looked up. “A very powerful, direct strike.”
“Someone with a lot of upper body strength, then,” Thea said slowly.
“And someone who knew what they were doing. It’s just this one strike. No other wounds that I can see. And straight on to her. She would have been facing her attacker.”
“No signs of restraint?” Thea asked.
“Not that I can see just now. I will know more when I’ve examined her more closely.”
“Yes, of course.” Thea frowned down at Delilah, remembering a strong-willed old woman. Remembering, too, the fear in her when she had seen the four men at the market. And Matthew Shand’s intervention, drawing Thea away from the four men.
From what Thea had seen of the four men, she did not think any of them had formal weapons training, or the skill or strength to make the wound that had killed Delilah. But the metal worker who had been here earlier might. He would need considerable upper body strength to do his work. And there must be more people involved in this forging enterprise, she thought.
She straightened to her feet.
“When will you be able to examine her, sir?” she asked, careful to make it a question.
“Later today,” Iason said absently. He had been distracted by something on Delilah’s arm. “Finding out where the coins came from is the highest priority just now, and she was found next to the furnace.”
“Thank you,” Thea said, and turned to see what Dina had found, if anything.
As she moved, she sensed rather than saw movement outside the building.
She was at the door of the building before she realised it, reacting to what she had seen.
“Mage!” she called the warning, seeing two figures moving through the shrubs near the pony. Niath was a little distance away, staring in the opposite direction.
He turned, one hand lifted.
Too late.
Something flew out of the shrubs towards the dark-robed mage, catching him in his chest and flinging him back.
Magic.
Thea cried out another warning, and ran towards the shrubs.
Another one of the things, a tightly coiled spiral of dark, flew out of the leaves towards her. She was ready for it, though, and ducked, rolling on the ground, bruises across her back protesting. She ignored them, coming to her feet and continuing to run with barely a pause in her stride.
Whatever the thing was, it hit the packed earth behind her and exploded with enough force to make the ground tremble.
“Stop in the name of the Watch,” she yelled, crashing into the nearest shrub.
There was no answer.
She had not really expected one.
The two figures rose to their feet. They each drew a weapon. Swords.
Thea stepped to one side, out of reach of the nearest figure. A man. Dressed in close-fitting dark clothing, his face covered. The sword he carried was short and business-like, with no ornamentation. And he knew how to use it. He followed her movement without difficulty, ready for her as she tried to approach him on his unarmed side.
She ducked under the tangled branches and grabbed a handful of fallen leaves and stones and dirt, rising up and flinging the handful into his face.
He had not been expecting that, and stumbled back into his companion, the sword wavering for a moment.
Long enough for Thea to get past his guard, shove her elbow into his mid-section and grab his sword arm, pinching hard around his wrist.
The sword dropped to the ground.
The man grabbed her hair, spitting a curse in her ear, and tried to turn her towards the other armed man. Thea kicked back, making contact with his leg, causing him to stumble. He cursed again and let her go.
She ducked forward, grabbed the sword, and turned to face the other armed man.
He was just as skilled as the first, meeting her attack with a solid defence.
Her free arm got tangled in more branches and she shook herself free, raising the sword just in time to block his attack.
There was shouting from somewhere nearby. She ignored it, focusing on the man who was trying to kill her.
He took a step back, and she followed, realising too late that he was luring her into a thicker part of the bush. She moved sideways, dragging herself through the branches and out into a comparatively empty space to find him waiting for her, blade catching the light as he thrust forward.
She blocked the attack, forced to take a step back to brace herself. He attacked again. She was more prepared this time, blocking the strike, the force of it ringing up her arm.
A sharp whistle sounding nearby snapped her attention a
way from the blade. The man stepped back, turned, and moved away.
The first man had taken hold of the pony and was leading it away. The second man joined him, pulling something out of his belt pouch as he did so.
He flung the whatever-it-was through the air to Thea.
She barely had time to duck before the thing exploded beside her, sending her crashing into the shrub, a shower of splintered branches raining over her.
CHAPTER TWENTY
Her head hurt. A lot. To add to the still-healing bruises across her back.
She got to her feet, unsteady, the sword still in her hand, and looked for her enemy.
The two men, and the pony, had vanished. There were some faint tracks on the ground, leading towards the nearest houses. Even the nearest houses were some distance away, and the men and the pony were nowhere to be seen.
Behind her, she could sense movement and rapid conversation.
She turned, swaying, and saw Iason and Dina kneeling on either side of Niath, who was still on the ground.
Thea made her way towards them on unsteady feet, distracted by a pair of running figures coming around the side of the house. She had her sword raised, ready to defend against another attack, when she recognised the newcomers as Ware and Sutter. They stared at her for a moment, then saw the mage on the ground, and moved across to Dina and Iason.
Thea’s head was ringing, pounding in counter-point to her heartbeat, and the voices were distorted. She could make out a word here and there.
Unconscious.
Head injury.
Magical wound.
She put a hand to her head and winced, looking at her blood-stained fingers.
A shadow appeared in front of her so abruptly she took a step back, fingers tightening around the sword hilt.
It was Ware, frowning at her, his lips moving. She shook her head, not able to understand what he said.
He held out a hand, moving slowly, fingers open. She stared at it for a long moment before she realised he wanted her to hand him the sword. Members of the Watch and citizens of Accanter were not permitted to carry bladed weapons. She released the sword into his hand, swayed as the slight weight left her, then sat down on the ground with a thump that jarred her teeth and sent a fresh wave of pain through her head.
False Dawn: Ageless Mysteries - Book 2 Page 17
