A Voyager Without Magic

by Guy Antibes

  “There isn’t another clerk?”

  She shook her head. “There is a crew that pilots ships to their berths. An office is closer to the docks where their boats are kept. Sometimes the pilot crews meet on the second floor.” She looked at the ceiling.

  “What is on the second floor?” Sam asked.

  “Supplies, but mostly old records. We track the comings and goings of ships, just like the customs people do on the other side of the wharf.”

  Sam sighed. “I’m sorry I asked you so many questions. What will you do now that the harbormaster won’t be returning to work?”

  She smiled at him. “You phrased that so nicely.”

  Sam blushed at her compliment.

  “I did most of the work, anyway. I will have to interface with the pilot shed more often. That is what he did.”

  “Did the harbormaster have an office on this level?”

  She nodded. “Through that door. It has his name on it.”

  Sam noticed the sign on the door for the first time. He felt a little foolish, but that made the girl smile. “Can I look inside?”

  “Sure.” She reached down under the counter. “Here is the key. Please don’t take anything.”

  “If anything gets taken, Commander Eshing will be doing it.”

  She gave him another smile. The outside door opened, and a grizzled man in nautical clothes walked in.

  “I’m here to complain about my berth. Is Pensie in?”

  The young woman lost her composure.

  Sam noticed the name on the door was Horis Penstock. “He won’t be in anymore. Can we go outside for a moment?” Sam said to the sailor.

  The man looked at the woman and nodded.

  Once outside, Sam informed the man about Penstock’s demise.

  “He was a good drinking buddy,” the captain said. “A little greedy, but aren’t we all?”

  “When was the last time you went out with him?”

  The captain looked at the ships in the harbor. “I’ve been gone for three weeks. Before then.”

  “Where did Penstock like to drink?”

  “Drink or eat? Drinking was the Pelican’s Maw, and eating was the Sailor’s Rest.” The captain laughed.

  “Something is funny?”

  “It used to be called The Sailor’s Restaurant, but at some point, someone painted out ‘aurant.’ It has been known as the Sailor’s Rest since then. Most sailors don’t like it, seeing as they don’t allow paid escorts, if you know what I mean. But captains, Pensie, and plenty of locals like it just fine. Better food, and for us old salts, the women part means less with every passing year. The spirit is willing, but the body?” The man chuckled. “I’ll make do with my assigned berth. Tell Salise to give me a better berth next time.” He gave Sam a salute. “You are a considerate enough fellow. I wish you well.”

  Sam walked back inside the harbormaster’s office and informed Salise, who was the young female clerk, what the old captain had said.

  She sniffed a bit but thanked Sam. He hurried to the office to look around before Commander Eshing returned with his men. Sam took his papers and finished documenting his interview with the captain, regretting that he didn’t get the man’s name, but Salise would know.

  The man’s desk was reasonably clear. He guessed the woman did all the paperwork. Personal items were decorating the walls. Sam took off his spectacles and was surprised that most of the items were pollen copies. Banna would have to take a look at them.

  He sketched a sword that hung on a peg behind the desk. It looked new, but Sam didn’t remember seeing the pattern before. Perhaps it was a bribe from the captain of a foreign ship. Sam looked through the drawers, hoping to find notes about berths and bribes. Perhaps Commander Eshing might have better luck.

  Sam made another pass of the office with his spectacles off but was disappointed. He locked the office and handed the key to Salise.

  “Thank you. I’ll be heading upstairs.”

  She nodded and gave him a weak smile.

  Sam climbed the stairs, stopping to take a quick look at the second floor. He noticed a shiny spot on two of the file drawers. He removed his spectacles, and the shine disappeared. They had to be wards. Sam tested the locks on the other filing cabinets. Were these placed as warnings? He couldn’t tell and decided the wards were something for Banna to examine.

  He heard a door close above him and waited for Eshing to arrive on the second floor.

  “You interrogated the woman?” Eshing asked.

  “Isn’t that why I was left behind?” Sam said.

  “Good. Did you learn anything?”

  “I did. This is a storage room, but you should seal it. There are wards on the files.”

  “Wards?”

  Sam showed the commander the shiny surfaces. “Here.” He handed his spyglass to Eshing, who looked through it at the file drawers. “The shiny parts?”

  Sam nodded. “Those are wards. I can detect them more easily with these.” He pointed to his spectacles.

  “As can I with this thing.” He held up Sam’s spectacles. The commander’s face was nearly white when he said, “We were going to go through these next. I will station one of my men downstairs. If you want to take a look upstairs on your own, now is the time to do so. I will be back at the Guard Office.” He looked back up at Sam as he descended the steps, shaking his head.

  A member of the guard took a chair and placed it in front of the stairs. Sam ascended to Penstock’s quarters. The place looked like it had been ransacked, and it probably was, as Eshing and his men performed their search.

  Sam spent some time cleaning up after their mess. It was apparent to Sam that Penstock was a neat sort of man once everything was picked up. Unless Eshing had found something that he could put in his pockets, the Carolank guard hadn’t found anything worthwhile.

  He stood in the middle of the living room and asked himself if he were to hide something, where would he put it? He went to the bedroom and had to do more cleaning up, but couldn’t find anything out of the ordinary.

  Sam opened a closet door and found a set of private stairs leading up to a fourth floor to what looked like an observatory, looking out the harbor through big windows. He walked to the main stairway and looked back at the single room that comprised the entire fourth floor. A table and chairs sat in the middle with a sideboard against the wall. Sam looked inside the compartments to find the kind of food he had been eating on The Twisted Wind; food that didn’t need to be preserved. Nothing looked remarkable about what was in the cabinet.

  He walked back down the stairs, still wondering where to hide something.

  Sam stepped on a stair tread that gave a bit more easily that the others. He ran his fingers along the under-edge of the step and found a latch. The tread slid out, revealing a hidden compartment. Small vest-pocket-sized notebooks were neatly stacked. He opened one of them. The pages documented the date and time of meetings, as well as the promises Penstock had made.

  Sam went through all the pages. The latest date was five weeks ago. He would have to ask Eshing if a notebook was found on Penstock. Sam had to ask the question, but he already suspected no notebook accompanied the harbormaster to his doom. All kinds of motives came to his mind. Smugglers and illegal entries into Norlank were two probable motives, but without the missing notebook, proving anything might be impossible.

  After taking the latest one to show Eshing, Sam latched the hidden compartment again. He warned Salise not to go upstairs, since the files might be warded, and said goodbye to the guard who protected the upper parts of the harbormaster office.

  Sam patted the notes in one pocket and the notebook in another. He had to ask for Eshing again when he walked up to the guard sitting below the officer in the lobby. This time he was shown to Eshing’s office.

  “Did you find anything?”

  Sam unfolded his notes and went over his conversation with Salise and the old captain.

  Eshing snorted and shook his head with a wr
y smile. “Our men couldn’t get anything out of the woman. One mention of the harbormaster would send her into tears.

  “Maybe it is because I am younger,” Sam said. He didn’t have any idea, other than he had tried to be sympathetic without being maudlin. “I found pollen-made objects in Penstock’s office, but none in his flat. Do you know what kind of sword this is?” Sam showed him his drawing.

  “Wollian, if I guess correctly.” He shrugged. “Is that important?”

  “Other than being very new, nothing, besides the fact that the harbormaster was wrapped up like a Wollian body, and there is a brand new Wollian sword in his office. That might be a coincidence, or it might be a real trail, or a false one.”

  “Why wouldn’t it be real?”

  “Wards,” Sam said. “If someone thought the harbormaster’s office was important enough for wards, they would remove any Wollian sign if they were Wollians.”

  “What if they didn’t care?” Eshing asked.

  “They cared enough to kill the harbormaster. What if someone wants to hide smuggling, human or otherwise? I don’t think anyone would kill Penstock for a better berth for their next docking at Carolank.”

  “That is thin evidence.”

  Sam tossed the notebook on Eshing’s desk. “Did you find a notebook like this on the harbormaster?” Sam asked.

  “What?” Eshing sat up straight. “Where did you get that?”

  “In a hidden compartment on the stairway leading up to the observation floor.”

  “My men didn’t find anything up there.”

  Sam nodded. “Neither did I, but the stair tread that covers the compartment is looser than the others. A simple latch allowed me access. They are neatly stacked and go back years. This one has the last two years of recorded bribes, except for the last few months. Penstock took his personal recordkeeping seriously,” Sam said.

  “You are a smart lad,” Eshing said. “Now I know what Bentwick saw in you. What do you suggest we do next?”

  “A Polistian pollen expert is on board. I knew her in Baskin. She can help us with the wards. She helped me with the pollen shroud. I’d like her to take a look at the second-floor files. I stayed away from them, but perhaps they are locked. The non-warded files weren’t.”

  “I’ll write a note for the guard. If your expert defeats the wards, let the guard know, so he can summon me. You stay there until I arrive. Can you do that?

  Sam nodded.

  “We will visit the restaurant and the tavern another time. I know where both of them are, especially the Sailor’s Rest,” Eshing said with a smile.

  Chapter Ten

  ~

  “T his is Banna Plunk from Polistia,” Sam said, as he introduced her to Salise.

  Banna barely cracked a smile at the still-saddened young woman.

  “We are going upstairs first, and then we will want to take another look at Harbormaster Penstock’s office.”

  She smiled at Sam and nodded.

  The guard moved his chair, letting Sam and Banna upstairs.

  Sam pointed out the wards.

  “I can see them,” Banna said irritably. “I don’t know why you dragged me off the ship. I could be arrested in Carolank, you know.”

  Sam clamped his lips together. “When we are finished here, I will take you back to the ship.”

  “You don’t have to take me anywhere. I know the way.”

  Her attitude softened when she looked at the wards. “Lethal. An expert created these.”

  “Better than you?”

  Banna snorted. “I’m a magician, so these are not better than what I can do, but dead is dead. That woman downstairs is lucky you found these. Touching either of these would blow up everything on this floor.”

  Sam sighed. “Lucky is right. Commander Eshing’s men walked right past these on the way to the harbormaster’s flat.”

  “Snoops? And they didn’t go through the man’s files?”

  “They went straight to the living quarters and were going to search the files next.” If the men who had tossed Penstock’s possessions around in his flat did the same to the files first, the building could have collapsed around Sam and Salise below.

  She dragged a chair in front of one of the warded files. “These don’t have the shock ward that mine had, but the exploding part is stronger. This is more like a military ward than anything I do, but it has been constructed more elegantly than most that I have seen. Can I borrow your gold tip?”

  Sam gave it to her. He wondered if he should evacuate the building with Salise, but before he could mention it to Banna, she straightened up.

  “Now for the next one,” she said. “You could have neutralized these with your wand. You have to work around the edges with the wand. A direct attempt to disable them will not lead to a happy result.” She moved the tip around the outside before mumbling a few words and pressing it to the second ward. Banna tried to open the file, but it was locked.

  Sam ran downstairs. “Do you have keys to the files upstairs?”

  Salise nodded. “Only the two newest files are locked. The harbormaster didn’t want to buy more locks,” she said before retrieving the keys from an unused desk.

  Banna sat with arms folded, tapping her foot impatiently when Sam reached the top of the stairs. “Do you still need me?”

  “For the office. First a quick look in the files.” Sam opened the first cabinet up. It didn’t contain the latest manifests. He opened the second one, and the newest document was two days old, just before the harbormaster was killed. He didn’t have time to look through the files, so he locked them back up and returned the keys to Salise and asked for the keys to the office.

  Sam took Banna into Penstock’s office and showed her the military decorations.

  “I don’t know what it is about these things and men,” she said. “Pollen, Pollen, Pollen, and Pollen.” Banna pointed to the fake decorations, not making a mistake.

  “You passed a test I wasn’t going to give,” Sam said, getting a bit irritable with Banna. “What level of expertise was required to make these?”

  “An expert, but maybe not a pollen artist. These would have taken some time, except for this one.” She pointed to a mask that was paint-over-pollen. “This was made quickly. Look at the back.”

  Sam removed it from the wall and flipped it over. The pollen was dark green. “The same color as the shroud,” he said.

  “Oh,” she said. “I didn’t expect that, and probably made by the same person. Take that with you to show Commander Eshing. It’s past time for me to leave.”

  “One more thing. Where was that sword made?”

  Banna’s eyes turned to the shiny sword. “I don’t have the foggiest,” she said. “I never learned to fight with a sword.” She turned and left the office and the building, leaving Sam holding onto the pollen mask.

  Sam locked the door to the office and handed the key to the young woman, still holding on to the mask.

  “Do you know who gave Penstock these?”

  Salise looked at the mask. “I don’t know. I didn’t stay for every dinner, and I rarely went into Harbormaster Penstock’s office,” she said. “I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t let anyone else upstairs or in the office without Commander Eshing’s permission for a few days if the guard isn’t around. Can you do that?”

  “Are you leaving like the woman?” Salise glanced at the door with a sour look on her face. “She wasn’t very nice.”

  Sam turned to the guard. “It’s time for Commander Eshing to return. Would you get him?”

  Sam watched the guard leave before he said, “Banna Plunk is a complicated woman.”

  “Banna Plunk? Now, where have I seen that name?” Salise shuffled through some papers on her desk and pulled out a paper. “She is to be arrested if she sets foot in Carolank.” She handed a copy of an arrest order to Sam.

  “By now, she is no longer on Carolank soil,” Sam said.

  “Oh.”

  “Please don’
t mention her name,” Sam said. “She is a friend, sort of.” He didn’t know what else to say. No wonder Banna was nervous about helping him.

  Eshing rushed into the lobby. “The wards are gone?”

  Sam nodded. “And so is my expert, it seems. She did her work, so let us go upstairs.”

  ~

  The next day was losing its light before Commander Eshing arrived at the harbormaster’s office. Sam was just about finished cataloging manifests. Salise had helped him for the first hour or two, teaching him how to understand the terms.

  “Have you found the culprit?”

  Sam shook his head. “Recording the data is different than analyzing it,” he said. “That is the next task.”

  “Are you done enough to join me investigating the tavern and the restaurant?”

  Sam nodded. “Especially the restaurant.”

  “You won’t be disappointed.”

  Sam replaced the manifests, locked his summaries in with the files, and kept the keys. He grabbed his notebook and headed out with the commander.

  The Sailor’s Rest wasn’t far. The name reminded Sam of Horner’s Rest, the first mountain village that Harrison Dimple and he had visited nearly a year ago. Sam was surprised to see cloths on the tables, even if they were made out of pollen. The restaurant didn’t look shabby at all, but the sign was. Perhaps the owner thought it made the place more popular.

  The place was nearly filled up. There was a bar, but Sam didn’t see drinking to the extent he would notice in a tavern. Women were sprinkled at the tables, but they weren’t paid hostesses; they were patrons.

  A serving maid wearing a low-cut blouse showed them to a table and handed them little chalkboards, similar to what he and Desmon had used to choose their meal a few days ago. Now the Sailor’s Rest reminded him of the Piper Club, but as Sam looked around, he failed to see any nobles.

  “I’m Toraltian,” Sam said to the server. “Something on the mild side.”

  The woman laughed. “That’s not what people come to the Sailor’s Rest for.”