“You still haven’t answered my question.” The Captain folded his arms and stared straight at Aldair.
“We don’t ambush your caravans Captain,” Aldair said.
“Then how do you account for the syndicate’s dramatic success rate compared to government caravans?”
“Luck,” said Aldiar slowly. “Thuane and I have a very busy night ahead of us with the recent shipments.” Aldair bowed as he spoke. There was a split second of silence. He rose back up to look at the Captain. Aldair’s expression was blank. There was no tinge of red in his face, no twitch of his eyes. There was no sign of emotion.
“You will notify my lieutenant posted here if you hear of anything related to our discussion tonight,” said the Captain.
“Yes Captain,” Aldair said, bowed a second time, and then walked over to the wagon and inspected the off-loaded inventory. The Captain mounted his horse and entered the street.
Linnouse was mapped much like the capital. The main government building was towards the center and the Barracks was located on the perimeter on the west side of the city. The sound of the horse’s steps penetrated the night as he walked closer to the Barracks. Two men stood with spears at the entrance. As the Captain passed by, the guards stood up straighter and held their spears more firmly.
“Captain,” they said in unison. The Linnouse Guard uniforms were similar to those in Noiknaer; the only difference was the helmet. Two ram horns curved from the back of the helmet, went down behind the ears, followed the jaw line and curved up just beneath the eyes. A pointed ridge started on the nose plate, traveled up between the eyes, over the top of the head and down the back of the helmet.
“Where is your lieutenant?” the Captain asked. The guard on the left stepped forward.
“He is in his office. Shall I wake him?”
“Yes, and you,” the Captain ordered, pointing to the other guard. “Find the stable boy and have him tend to my horse. I will be returning to him in the morning.” The Captain dismounted and followed one the guards to the lieutenant’s office.
The Barracks of Linnouse were similar to the Barracks in Noiknaer. Every turn and length of hall was too familiar. When they arrived at the lieutenant’s chamber, the guard knocked on the door. It too, was similar to the Captain’s. An impression in the shape of the lieutenant’s talisman was on the door.
“If I am to be bothered at this hour in the night, someone better be dead, dying or we better be under the attack.” There was some muffled bumping and hustling. “Because if there isn’t-”
The door opened. The lieutenant was a head and a half shorter than the captain and much skinnier. His head was shaven and he wore a white robe. He turned to the guard and then looked up at the Captain.
“Because if there isn’t what, Lieutenant Ryale?” the Captain asked, smiling.
“Captain, to what do I owe the pleasure?” Ryale responded as he saluted. The Captain returned the salute.
“It is unwise for a leader to make threats that he is not planning on carrying out,” the Captain said.
“That is why you are the Captain, and I am not.” Ryale looked at the guard. “You are dismissed,” he said. The guard bowed and left. “Please come in. Tell me, what news do you bring?” The lieutenant closed the door. A lamp was already lit. “I heard about Kosai. This wouldn’t have anything to do with that would it?”
“It has everything to do with it. I think that the syndicate is paying off nomadic tribes to attack government caravans.”
“But the syndicate has also suffered losses at the hands of nomadic attacks, recently too. There was an attack last week on a syndicate caravan making its way here. If your suspicions are correct, than the syndicate must be paying off only a few tribes.”
“And that is what bothers me,” the Captain said, “I need proof of it and I don’t have it. Today I went and questioned Aldair and by luck, Thuane was there too. He hired a government caravan to deliver what he called ‘personal goods’ that had nothing to do with syndicate business. He ordered dyes, cloth, and wheat. I recently visited Beoran in Noiknaer. He was fairly adamant about holding onto a letter or piece of parchment he had folded up in his pocket. The warrant I have is for ledgers, assets, documentation, anything that the syndicate as a business has done and will do. Beoran was upset that I would be able to take all of his documentation, as was Aldair, which makes me think that the syndicate is bribing or hiring nomads to hinder government caravans. The only solid way to know is to witness them in the act of hiring the nomads. I am ordering you to keep a firm watch out on them. Interrogate those who do attack the caravans if you can and obtain any information and then report back to me.”
“Captain, I will keep my eyes and ears open. I will order the Guard here to double their vigilance. What has the capital said in regards to this matter?”
“Some were quite pleased to issue the warrant, Steran being one of them. Surprisingly, Rodrick didn’t seem too happy about it. But it doesn’t matter, they are all self-centered and deceptive as always. Trying to perceive their motives past their own greed is futile. The point is to save lives. When the government caravans come, people are able to eat and live for another day. If the syndicate is hindering that process, they could just as well be held for murder. I need solid evidence.”
“I am sure you will find it,” Ryale said. He rubbed his hands to his eyes, stretched, and then let out a long, growling yawn. “Do you have a place to sleep tonight?”
“I was planning on finding room at an inn,” the Captain paused, and leaned closer. “I need to look into something first.”
“You have that look Captain. What’s on your mind?”
“Ryale, rouse one of your guards up and send them out. I want a set of eyes on Aldair this evening.”
“Yes sir, and I have just the man for you,” Ryale said with a smile. “Would you like to give the order personally Captain?”
“No. That won’t be necessary. I need to get some rest. I will see you early in the morning before the next caravan heads out.”
“Yes Captain.” Ryale saluted and the Captain returned the salute. “Oh, and Captain, I would recommend Desert’s Moon Inn for a decent nights rest. It is a newer inn and one of the finest in Linnouse. It is five blocks north of the fountain. If that one doesn’t suit you, there are others close to it that might.”
“Thank you Ryale.”
The Captain gave a penny to the stable boy to keep his horse there for the night and walked towards the fountain in the center of the city. There were homeless people tucked and snoring against the walls of buildings, but not nearly as many as the Captain was used to seeing in Noiknaer. There were a few transients scouring the streets for a dropped coin. They looked different than the homeless in Noiknaer too. They seemed stronger and healthier. Not one was dressed in tied rags, but instead wore threadbare, worn out clothing.
Different colored lanterns were hung outside the houses and shops, giving the city the gemmed glow it was so famous for. Some homes were made from tan cement and others from wood. Houses and shops were painted red, green, orange, or other bright colors. There were a few homes that remained unpainted, the brown cement a drab contrast to the colors around them. Some homes were one story, while others were three. Some were small and square, while others were rectangular in shape with many additions.
The pavilion was like a museum. Figurine statues were evenly spaced around the perimeter. A lush flower garden surrounded each statue and filled the air with sweet nectar smells. The pavilion was paved with square gray stones in a circular pattern around the fountain. The fountain itself was another sculpture that seemed to put the others surrounding it to shame. It was a woman, standing atop a pedestal. A robe covered one shoulder and draped down to her feet. In one hand she held a cluster of grapes, and her other arm was arched above her head, as if she were dancing. Her hair was tied up in a bun with some of her bangs twirling down by her cheeks. Water bubbled up from under her f
eet and poured into the pool which she stood in.
The Captain stopped, dipped his hand into the pool, and took a drink. The water was cold and sweet. There were three shops in the pavilion. To the north, there was a clothing shop. A yellow robe with red trim was on display in one of the windows. To the east was a rug and tapestry store called The Yarn. The sign was written in curved letters and the tail of the Y led to a ball of blue yarn. Hung up in the window was a tapestry that had sharp, black curves that led to knife like points on a brilliant red and orange background, giving the impression that one was watching a fire. Next to the tapestry was a sign.
“Help wanted,” it said. “Skills in weaving and dyeing required. Inquire within” was written in italicized subtext beneath it.
“I haven’t seen one of those in years,” the Captain said before taking another drink.
To the south was a metal smith called Hammer and Craft. On the sign were pictures of horse shoes, with gold rings hung on the ends. The smith was one of the graduates of the Forge and was exceptionally talented with custom metal work. The success of Hammer and Craft was a testament to his ability. Under the tutelage of Ellene, he became one of the best smiths she ever had. Ellene had bragged to the Captain about the former student, and planned on sending others to work for him once they graduated.
Refreshed from his drink, the Captain walked north, counting the blocks and looking for the Desert’s Moon, which wasn’t hard to find. The outside was white brick, with two spires at the front corners that looked like narrow pyramids. The building was five floors high. The entrance was a wooden double door with vertical brass bars for handles. The Captain stopped as he reached for the handle. Painted across the door was the name, Desert’s Moon, in light blue, but traveling up each handle was a brass snake. At the top of the handle, the snakes were facing each other, fangs bared. The Captain smiled and entered.
“Welcome, welcome,” the inn keeper called. He stood behind a polished oak desk that was common in most inns. The desk was decorated with vases that were white with blue and filled with gold-painted flowers. The innkeeper wore a gold-colored shirt with light blue cuffs. On his left hand, he wore a ring that was just like the one the Captain was wearing.
“I hear this is the one of the best inns in Linnouse,” the Captain said.
“Ah yes, yes, the best, simply the best, and I have just the room for you. Tell me, what are you looking for? You are the Captain of the guard are you not? I heard from some tenants that you were in town. We have rooms for luxurious pampering, a romantic evening, or some solid rest and relaxation.”
“Just a simple room will be fine.”
“Let me see what we have available,” he said as he pulled out a ledger from a drawer in the desk.
The Captain looked around the lobby. There were paintings of desert nightscapes hung on every wall. In front of the paintings were leather sofas and chairs with decorative pillows. The floor was made with white tile. Between the sofas and chairs were vibrant colored shag rugs. Bright red, oranges, greens, and blue squares were woven into a black fabric.
“I have just the room for you,” the innkeeper said. He opened a drawer underneath a desk and took out a key. “Follow me.”
The Captain followed the innkeeper up three flights of stairs and down a hallway. Halfway down the hallway, the innkeeper put the key in the door and showed the Captain to his room.
“This is one of our… simpler rooms. There is a private bath, I will be sure to have some hot water brought up to you, with scented oils and candles to calm tense muscles and ease the mind into a relaxed state. The bed sheets are made of satin and there is a feather comforter. If you need more blankets, they can be found in the top shelf in the closet. There is bell pull next to your bed if you need anything. Do you have any questions?”
“Is this hotel is owned by the Three Brothers?”
“Yes. They started the plans for building, provided the funding, and then hired staff and management.”
“And how much do you earn?”
“We have free room, plus ten pieces per day, just enough to feed the family and pay for their education.”
“How much for this room?”
“Fifty and five for the night,” the innkeeper said. The Captain was silent and looked around the room. “I know it is more expensive than others, but surely you deserve to indulge in comfort this evening.”
“Do you know where I receive my pay?” the Captain asked.
“From the Capital I would measure.”
“And where do they receive their money?”
“Taxes.”
“Yes, taxes. There are people in Noiknaer that are starving this evening because they don’t have money enough to buy bread. There are others who had to choose between paying taxes, and buying food. And there are others, who hope that these taxes are not used in vain. I cannot in good conscience spend their money on something this lavish.” The Captain began walking to the door when the innkeeper stepped in front of him.
“But isn’t your salary, something that you sacrifice over, rightfully yours? Who says that you can’t pamper yourself? It’s because of your hard work that the people who are taxed have a safe place to sleep. It is because of your training, and diligence that those who cannot do for themselves, are provided by the government caravans. Captain, you are being too hard on yourself. It’s your money, do with it what you will. You earned it.”
“You are right,” the Captain said, pointing a finger at the innkeeper. “I have earned my wages. I have fought, bled, and sweat over them. When people see the Council, who sit in lofty chairs, drink fine wines and eat well every night, they grow to anger and struggle to make ends meet. They do not trust the Council because of their behavior, and I will not betray their trust by supporting lavish living off of their backs.”
“Do not tell me Captain that you have eaten only bread and drank only water all these years. Would not a simple glass of wine, or anything beyond that be considered a betrayal of that trust? If you want their trust, sleep in the streets, and beg for your food. Give your salary back to the people and buy their bread.”
“I should have your tongue cut for that remark. You speak outside your bounds. Good evening.” The Captain brushed by the innkeeper, walked down the stairs and into the street. A vagrant walked up to him in dusty, tattered clothes with hands outstretched.
“Please spare a coin?”
“How about a trade instead? Where is next closest inn where I can find a stiff bed for a cheap price?”
“Two blocks to the east is The Dune. Cheapest bed in town,” the beggar said. The Captain nodded and flipped him a piece.
“One other question,” the Captain called out as the beggar walked away. “Do you have work?”
“Oh yes. I work in the mines each day for a loaf of bread. Not the fluffy stuff, mind you, but the hard squares. Need about a bucket of water to wash it down if you know what I mean.” The Captain nodded with a smile and watched the beggar walk off with his head down, searching for an extra coin.
The Captain came to The Dune and bought a room for ten and three pieces. The mattress had strands of straw sticking out all over, making it look like a pincushion. Ropes were tied to each end of the bed frame, supporting the mattress. The blankets were made from wool and the feathers from the pillow poked at the Captain’s cheek, but he fell asleep quickly and slept soundly.
CHAPTER 10
The stable boy was putting the tack on the horse when the Captain walked up. The sun had not yet risen and the chill of the desert night still lingered. The Captain didn’t say a word to the boy, but walked around the horse, patting its neck, shoulders, and legs. He checked the reigns and stirrups, making sure each were at their proper length. As the sun began to break over the horizon, Lieutenant Ryale walked down the stairs of the Linnouse Barracks. A tall, lanky student with shoulder length dark hair walked next to him. Dark purple bags hung under his slightly bloodshot eyes.
“Captain,” Ryale called down to him. “Mikael just returned from his assignment.” The Captain turned and stood in front of the guardsman with his arms folded.
“Good, let’s here it,” the Captain said.
“When I first arrived, Aldair was in his office. He has a desk in front of a window. He sits with his back to the window which makes for excellent spying. After an hour or so, he left his office and went to the loading docks. He visited with two syndicate caravan drivers there. I was unable to hear what he told them, but the meeting wasn’t very long and Aldair looked upset. I kept my eyes on Aldair the rest of the night, but nothing else happened. He worked on some papers in his office and then retired to his home for the evening.”
“Were you able to see the papers he was working on?”
“No. He is left-handed and leans over his papers in such a way that his whole upper body is bent over the desk. The paper is also skewed at a sharp angle. He writes in such a small print too and goes from one side of the paper to the other. I couldn’t see it from a distance, even with my telescope.”
“And what did he do with those papers?”
“He was working on two. One he put in a locked drawer in his desk and the other he tucked in the inside pocket of his coat.”
“Thank you Mikael,” the Captain said. He grabbed his money pouch from inside his uniform and paid the boy five pieces for his efforts. “Now go get some rest. That’s an order.”
“Yes sir,” Mikael said with a salute. After the guard had gone back into the barracks, the Captain mounted his horse and began to head to the gate.
“Captain,” Ryale called. “Why did you pay him? What value did he provide you?”
“More than you know lieutenant.”
At the city gate, the government caravan was just preparing to depart. The suon hissed and grunted. There were eight wagons on the caravan and it was led by the driver that the Captain accompanied the evening before. He and the Captain exchanged nods. Each guardsman carried a spear, a short sword on their hip, and a buckler tied to their back.
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