“I need you to check the inns again. See if your friends have arrived yet.” He turned and strode away. Just as he reached the corner of the house, he paused. “Later this evening we'll discuss the fact that you weren't able to finish your work on time again. Perhaps we can find new ways to motivate you.”
Salmitaya shuddered as she watched him disappear around the corner. She dusted herself off, put away the bucket and brush, and headed to the tavern district. The streets of Baltria were filthy by Kaltinor standards. Though well paved and maintained, you could actually hear the mud and grime crunch beneath your feet. The city was situated in the very center of the largest delta in the world. The soil was rich and black, and the humid climate meant that the ground was wet for most of the time. It was nearly impossible not to track mud wherever you walked. Frequent rain helped to wash away the buildup before it could get out of hand, but it left a strong musty odor to which Salmitaya swore she could never grow accustomed.
The houses were mostly single story, bricks and mortar structures, even those owned by the nobles. However, as she drew closer to the docks she began to notice the many houses and shops built on tall pylons in order to avoid the occasional extreme high tides.
One of the largest cities in the world, Baltria was known mostly for its massive ports and market places that were as big as some towns. A colossal variety of goods were shipped both into and away from the Goodbranch River, and from there spreading to all points near and far.
Salmitaya despised the tavern district. Yanti had her coming here every two or three days to check the local gossip and pay his informants. At first, she feared she might be spotted by someone from the temples. Word of her betrayal had certainly traveled this far by now, and if she were caught then she would be doomed to spending the rest of her life in a dark temple prison cell. However, it soon became clear that, in her present state of filth and dishevelment, no one was likely to recognize her. Twice before she had seen sisters and brothers who she had known quite well, but they simply walked right past without so much as a second glance. After that, she removed the mirrors from her room.
Snow would be falling at this time of year in Kaltinor, but here it was unbearably hot. Her heavy clothing made the heat feel like a torture, and the humidity made the countless patches of filth on her skin cling like leeches.
“Taya,” called the raspy, uncouth voice of Saul Milspend.
Salmitaya clinched her jaw and stepped up her pace. Saul was a fish merchant and one of Yanti's local informants. His bald head, short round frame, and smile that was missing several teeth caused her to recoil every time she saw the man. Worse, he was constantly trying to touch her on the hand or shoulder in a clumsy attempt at flirting.
“Taya!” he called out louder.
Salmitaya dropped her head and stopped. She could hear Saul's lumbering footsteps running up behind her.
Saul seized her by the shoulder. “I am glad I caught you.”
Salmitaya recoiled. “What is it Saul?” The stench of rotten fish caught in her nostrils.
“The innkeeper at the Malt and Mane said you should come by. He said to make sure you come through the back.” He held out his hand and gave her a toothless smile.
Salmitaya reached into the small pouch that hung from her belt and gave him a copper. Saul tried to thank her, but she walked quickly away in the direction of the inn.
The streets were crowded with city dwellers and merchants, both local and foreign. Fashions from the farthest reach of the world could be seen everywhere. Salmitaya was particularly fond of the silk wraps and colorful dresses of the eastern desert, though every time she saw one, it reminded her painfully of her own poor appearance.
It took her the better part of an hour to wind her way through the city to the tavern district.
The Malt and Mane was typical of the many inns in Baltria. Not particularly nice, but not a flophouse either. Still, as a lady of culture and dignity, it was not a place she wanted to be. That she was instructed to enter from the rear was as much of an insult as she could bear, but she dare not ignore it. Yanti had intrigues everywhere and was constantly gathering information. Salmitaya reckoned he had dirt on every influential person in the city, and he made sure they knew it.
She was still thinking about this as she rounded the corner leading directly to the inn. Suddenly, she froze. Not twenty feet away stood Celandine. She was talking to a fruit merchant. Salmitaya immediately spun around and returned quickly the way she had come, pressing her back flat against the building on the corner.
Slowly she peered around the edge of the building, taking care not to be seen. Celandine was wearing a tan linen dress rather than her novice robes, and her hair flowed loosely about her shoulders. Even so, there was no mistaking who it was. Salmitaya watched her until she entered the Malt and Mane, then sped off back to the house, unsure what she was going tell Yanti.
By the time she reached the house she was drenched in sweat and her legs were burning. She paused, composed herself, and entered. It took a moment for her eyes to adjust to the gloom. A small lamp in the living room to her right was the only source of light. Yanti sat cross-legged in a plush chair, dressed in a white cotton shirt and trousers, reading a small, leather-bound book. How he could see to read, Salmitaya couldn't imagine.
Yanti looked up and smiled, closing the book. “Well, my love.” His voice was honey. “I see that you're back quickly. A bit too quickly.”
Salmitaya tried to meet his eyes but couldn't. “I saw Celandine in front of the Malt and Mane.”
“Celandine?” he remarked, raising and eyebrow.
“She was a novice...”
Yanti raised his hand, silencing her. “I know who she is.” He rose from his chair. “Interesting choice.”
“I don't understand,” said Salmitaya. “You…”
Yanti shot her a glance and drew close. “My love, there is much I know that you don't. The sooner you accept that, the easier your life will be.” He reached out and held her chin, lifting her head to meet his gaze. “You should stay out of sight for the time being. I wouldn't want you to come to harm. At least, not yet.”
She began to tremble. Whatever his plans were, she knew she was disposable to him. She needed to prove her value in order to stay alive. “Let me help you,” she begged. “I can watch her without being seen.”
“I am pleased with your enthusiasm,” he replied, sounding almost sincere. “And I'm certain you could do a wonderful job. But I have enough eyes. No. I will restrict your movements to inside this house for the moment.” He released her. “You should be happy. It will be a respite from your normal duties.”
“Thank you,” she said in her most submissive voice. Yanti laughed softly. “Get yourself cleaned and rested.” Salmitaya bowed her head and turned to leave.
“I don't want you to worry,” Yanti called after her. “I will have much for you to do, soon enough.”
A chill ran down Salmitaya’s spine. Tears welled in her eyes. Whatever he had in mind, she knew it wouldn't be good.
Chapter 16
Dina entered the Malt and Mane carrying a basket of fresh strawberries. She let the scent fill her nostrils. As a child, her father would often take her into the forest to go strawberry picking. Most of the time they would eat half of them before they even got home. Dina hadn't thought of this in many years, and a small smile crept across her face.
“You look far away,” remarked Lee, sitting at the table next to the kitchen door.
The inn was typical for the area. There were two large common rooms, one on either side of the entrance. The room on the left was furnished with a dozen tables, each large enough to accommodate six people. The room on the right offered customers a bar on the far side, with tables scattered along all the walls; it also featured a raised platform in the middle for entertainment purposes. Just next to the bar were two doors, one leading to the kitchen, and the other to the guest rooms. Brass lamps hung from the ceiling, and two small fireplac
es were in opposite corners.
Dina joined Lee at the table and handed him a strawberry, which he took gratefully. “I was just thinking about when I was a child,” said Dina, still with a faraway look on her face.
“Is your father still alive?” asked Lee.
“No,” she replied. “As you know, I'm older than I look. And I was very young when I found the Order.”
“I'm sorry.”
“It's fine,” she said, shaking off her melancholy. “It’s just that I haven't been home in a very long time. I'm still rather tired as well.”
Lee and Dina had only just arrived the previous night. Their trip was uneventful, but their rapid pace had pushed her limits. Lee figured that Millet and his son would make their way to the Goodbranch River and sail down. That would certainly cut down on their travel time, and he had wanted to be sure of arriving ahead of them.
“Perhaps you should rest,” Lee suggested.
“I think I will.” Dina picked out a large strawberry. “But not before I enjoy a few of these.” She popped the fruit into her mouth and sighed with pleasure as she bit down.
“Good,” said Lee. “In the meantime, I'll check with my contacts here. I should like to get the feel of things.”
Dina nodded in agreement. “I can check the temples this evening,” she said, still chewing.
“I don't want you going off by yourself. I’m certain there are agents of the north about. Probably informants among the locals as well.”
“How would they know who we are, or what we're doing?” she asked, swallowing the remains of the berry.
Lee lowered his voice to a whisper. “They knew about us from the moment we left Sharpstone. And we were followed, at least for a time, out of Valshara. Clearly they have a more efficient system for gathering intelligence than we do.” He scowled. “I intend to change that situation.”
“How do you plan to do that?” She picked up another strawberry.
“I am very wealthy, my dear,” he stated. “And so are many of the people we have met, such as Lord Broin and Lord Ganflin. Information is nothing more than a commodity. If you have the coin, it's yours.”
“But won't the informants have already been bought?”
“Almost certainly,” he affirmed, smiling. “But the one dependable thing about scum is that they will always serve as many masters as can pay. But I won't be contacting the street dregs directly. I have friends among the nobility. I'll make my inquiries through them.”
Dina furled her brow. “And what happens if your friends have been bought as well - or worse, joined our enemies?”
He shrugged. “Then that will tell me what I need to know. But I doubt they'd betray me openly. Most know me from my days studying under local sword masters. I had a reputation as a very skilled swordsman.” He chuckled and shook his head. “The nobles aren't what you would call courageous, at least, not in the way a soldier is courageous. They wouldn't risk my wrath unless they were certain they could get away with it.”
Dina recalled watching Lee battle the elf seeker, Berathis. “I don't imagine any of them would want to upset you.”
Lee grinned fiendishly. “Not unless they want me to pay them more than a social call. But I know one lord I can trust. I saved his life.”
“Really, how?”
“He made the mistake of drinking and gambling at the wrong tavern,” Lee replied. “And he tends to flash his money when he's had too much wine. Not something you want to do in Baltria after dark. I stopped three thieves from killing him for his foolishness.”
“Well, I certainly hope that would buy you a bit of loyalty,” said Dina. She yawned and blinked her eyes. “And on that note, I need to rest for a bit. Wake me before sunset.”
Lee nodded. “Just don't leave here until I return.”
“And you remember that you are not invulnerable,” she said as she got up from her seat, making sure not to forget her remaining strawberries.
Lee laughed, sprung up, and snatched a berry for himself. “I'll be fine.” He made his way to the door and ventured out into the city streets.
The sun was still high in the sky, and the heat reminded Lee of how far removed from Sharpstone he was. He had sent a messenger to his friend early that morning, asking that they meet near to the docks. He couldn't risk being noticed. Dina was right to think that the nobility could have been bought off. Their entire world revolved around the acquisition of wealth; in some ways they were no better than bandits. Then there was the real possibility that they had sided with Angrääl, which would be worse still. Bought loyalty could be changed, but a true believer...
It wasn't long before the houses transitioned from typical Baltria dwellings into the structures that had been built on tall pylons. Lee had been in the city during a particularly bad flood year when the water had risen sufficiently to cover even the high porches. He’d wondered that the entire city hadn’t been drowned, but then discovered that Baltria was equipped with a system of drains and manual pumps that could be used to keep the majority of the city reasonably dry.
The mold stench of the docks filled the air as Lee neared. Sailors in brightly colored shirts and hats stumbled drunkenly through the streets, while merchants enthusiastically shouted their wares to passers-by. It wasn't long before he could see the tall masts of the ships peeking over the rooftops, and hear the sounds of orders being barked and bells ringing. A minute or so later the massive dock came into view. It stretched out from east to west as far as the eye could see. When he had first come here, many years ago, there had been hundreds of ships coming and going, loading and unloading. But now there were less than fifty ships in all.
He frowned. The dark times have struck everywhere.
The Plank Walker’s Café, where he was to meet his friend, was located only a few yards from the docks. Mostly patronized by officers and merchants, Lee knew the place well. It boasted the best seafood stew in the known world, a claim well supported by popular opinion. Lee had once tried to get the owner to give him the recipe, but to no avail.
Lee climbed the stairs to the deck where a short, plump, young woman greeted him. She smiled warmly and showed Lee to a table.
“And what'll you be havin' today, sir?” she asked cheerfully, with a thick Baltrian accent.
“Seafood stew, of course,” Lee replied.
“Right away.” She spun around, heading for the kitchen.
A few moments later a young, dark haired boy brought him some bread and a bottle of wine.
“Careful, Starfinder,” said a voice from the steps. “That isn't weak northern wine you're drinking.”
“Lanson Brimm.” Lee laughed. “I don't think it's my drinking that needs to be monitored.”
Lanson was a tall, slender, middle-aged man. His fine, sandy blond hair blew carelessly in the sea breeze. He wore a blue cotton shirt and trousers with white silk embroidery. A silver-handled short sword hung from his black leather belt.
Lee stood and embraced the man tightly. “It's good to see you.” He offered him a chair. “Are you eating?”
“I'm sorry, my friend,” said Lanson. “I must leave you soon. Frankly, I was surprised to receive your invitation.”
“Why is that?” asked Lee.
Lanson shook his head and wagged his finger. “You've made some powerful enemies. Every noble in the city has been paid for information on you, and the gods only know how many street vermin are on the lookout.”
Lee straightened. “Paid by whom?”
“Don't be naïve, Starfinder.” He reached over and took a piece of bread. “The ambassador from Angrääl started making inquiries months ago.”
“Ambassador?” Lee exclaimed. “In Baltria?”
“I'm afraid so,” said Lanson. “He and his attendants have set up residence inside the governor’s mansion.”
Lee suddenly felt exposed. “The King allowed that?”
“Allowed?” laughed Lanson. “He gave it to him.”
“And the governor?” Lee ask
ed.
“He moved into his own private home, claiming it was his decision.” He bit off a piece of bread. “I personally think the man is no longer running the city in any capacity.”
“Why would you think that?” asked Lee.
Lanson shrugged. “Because crime is down, and in spite of the empty docks, profits have never been better. Governor Greenly is a moron. He couldn't even manage the city in good times. If he wasn't the King's nephew, he would never have been appointed in the first place. No, Angrääl is in charge around here. They're pumping gold on top of gold into the economy.”
Lee was appalled. “So you want them here?”
Lanson nodded indifferently. “Sure. They're good for the city. So long as they don't send an army our way, I don't mind.” He could see Lee's apprehension. “Don't worry. I'm not one of the faithful. Those people are lunatics.”
“The faithful?” said Lee. “What in the name of Dantenos are the faithful?”
Lanson cocked his head. “You have been gone a long time, old friend. The faithful follow The Reborn King of Angrääl. They claim he's the reincarnation of King Rätsterfel, and spend most of their time causing trouble for the temples. Lately it's become fashionable to become one of them if you're nobility. But if you ask me, it's a bunch of hogwash. None of them really believe it. They just like the idea of their purses getting ever fatter.”
“What are the temples doing to stop them?” asked Lee.
“What can they do?” Lanson replied. “King Talminian doesn't seem to care what the faithful do, just so long as the gold keeps flowing into his coffers. As for me - I have found it wise to stay out of it.”
“Talminian has always been a fool,” Lee grumbled. “And weak.”
“Dangerous words,” said Lanson. “But as you're already in danger, I suppose it doesn't matter. Speaking of which...”
He reached in his pocket, pulled out a small key, and pushed it across the table. “I assume you'll not heed my words and leave the city at once. So, in that case, you remember my rental house?”
The Godling Chronicles : Bundle - Books 1-3 Page 50
