Secrets and Spellcraft

by Michael G. Manning

  It was half an hour before Will got a chance to speak to the clerk. “I’m here to ask about what happened with my case,” he told the man behind the desk.

  “Name?”

  “William Cartwright. I was supposed to appear before Magister Tumfrey about a blood-price.”

  “The case was dropped by Count Spry. You needn’t worry about it,” said the clerk immediately.

  “Can I ask why?”

  The clerk seemed bored. He propped his double-chin atop a plump hand as he answered, “I wouldn’t presume to know. Most probably someone paid the blood-price—either that or someone convinced the good count to forego his due.”

  “Is there a way I can find out?”

  The chubby clerk waved his hand dismissively. “I wouldn’t know. You’d have to ask the count himself.”

  Will shifted uncertainly on his feet. “Is there a chance he’ll change his mind? Could he ask me to pay the fine later?”

  “No need to worry. The petition was formally registered and then dismissed. The count can’t legally bring it up again now that it has been dropped.”

  “Thank you.” Will left the office and went back to the street. He felt considerably relieved, at least in the financial sense, but the place between his shoulders itched. Someone’s bound to try and stick a knife in me, he thought. He needed to put his armor back on, but the street was no place to undress.

  He spotted two men at opposite ends of the street who were still there from his previous study. One of them glanced away when Will’s eyes fell on him. Two buildings down from the courthouse was a large public house that probably did a brisk business serving the constables and those who frequented the courts. Rather than head for Wurthaven, Will decided it would be wise to get a meal and make a plan before risking the streets.

  The inn was named The Hanged Man, probably by someone with a strong sense of irony, but despite the grim label, it was large and well kept. It offered a small number of rooms for visitors, but it was obvious as soon as Will entered that its main business was feeding the people who worked at the courthouse. A quick glance at the tables showed him that at least half the patrons were either clerks, constables, or other professionals. The remainder were probably those who either had a case to be heard that day or possibly people who lived nearby.

  Will approached the bar, and when the tall, lanky man who was serving drinks came over, he asked, “Do you have any private spots to drink?”

  “You mean a snug?”

  “I haven’t heard that term before.”

  The bartender smiled knowingly. “Private booths. We have a lot of customers who don’t want to be seen drinking. Wait a second and Lynn will show you.”

  Will watched the entrance while he waited and saw one of the men he had noticed in the street enter and find a small table close to the door. He didn’t have any more doubts about the man’s purpose now.

  A few minutes later, a serving maid returned, her tray laden with empty cups. The bartender spoke to her briefly, and she walked over to Will. “Follow me.”

  She led him down the bar and turned a corner through an open archway that led into another large room separate from the front room. It was lined with small, box-like, wood-paneled alcoves with curtains that kept the identities of the occupants private. Will was seated in one and he marveled when he saw that the exterior wall had a small window with frosted glass to let in sunlight. A small table sat between two padded benches, and wood panels covered the walls on both sides. He had never seen anything like it before.

  “This is amazing,” he said in awe.

  Lynn smiled. “A lot of high-ranking officials like them, whether because they don’t want to be seen drinking, or when they’re here to meet a mistress. It costs one clima per hour, plus whatever you order.”

  “I’m actually very hungry,” Will admitted. “What do you have?”

  “Today it’s shepherd’s pie,” she answered. “That and a pint of ale will set you back five pennies. Are you eating alone?”

  “Pardon?” Will was confused, since there was clearly no one else with him.

  She laughed. “It’s a question with two meanings. Most who rent a snug either have a friend they’re meeting with or they want a lady to keep them company.”

  “I don’t have either.”

  Lynn laughed again. “I meant, sometimes they want us to provide a companion—for dinner or—” She rolled her eyes upward meaningfully, staring at the ceiling.

  Her meaning dawned on him, though he still wasn’t sure what she was looking at. He stared upward. “What’s up there?”

  “Rooms.”

  His cheeks warmed suddenly. “I don’t think I need a companion.”

  “Too bad.” She winked at him. “You look like you could use one. I’ll put your order in. Ale and pie for one.” Then she left, making sure to close the curtain behind her.

  Will was so flustered that it took him a moment to remember why he had wanted privacy to begin with. “Armor, right,” he reminded himself out loud. He quickly pulled his tunic over his head and then sorted out the brigandine so he could put it on.

  The curtain opened behind him, and Lynn stepped in with a wooden tankard. “Oh.”

  Will blushed again. “Sorry, I needed to change.” Hurriedly, he got the brigandine on and began working on the buckles.

  Lynn put the tankard down and stared at him dubiously for a second. Then she stepped over. “Let me help. It will be quicker.” Her fingers nimbly threaded the straps through the buckles and tightened them one by one. “So, why are you putting armor on? It seems like a strange thing to do in a tavern.” She finished and moved back a step.

  Will grabbed his tunic and pulled it over his head. “I’m worried someone is about to put something sharp between my ribs—or try to.”

  “They’d best think twice if they’re planning to try something in here,” she warned.

  “Not here,” he said quickly. “I just left court, but someone is following me. I wanted a chance to prepare before they catch me in the street.”

  “Ah,” she said. “So, you ducked in here.”

  He nodded.

  “Who’s after you?”

  Will hesitated, but something about the barmaid made him want to trust her. “Count Spry. One of the men he hired is already out front, sitting at a table by the door.” A shocked expression crossed her face and he began to regret his decision.

  After a second she responded, “We have a private back door. It costs a silver if you want to use it when you leave.”

  “Thank you!”

  “Don’t thank me yet. Let me talk to Jared. I’ll be back with your food in a few minutes.” A second later she was gone. She returned a short while later with a platter containing his food. “Bad news. Jared’s already taken coin to keep them informed,” she told him.

  “How much? I’ll double it,” offered Will.

  Lynn shook her head. “Jared doesn’t work like that. He’s got principles. Once he’s bought, he stays bought. If you’d paid him first, he wouldn’t have accepted their coin.”

  “That’s very trustworthy of him,” said Will. “But it doesn’t make me feel better.”

  She patted his shoulder sympathetically. “I’m not as principled. I shouldn’t have told you.”

  “Is there anything else you can do?”

  “Just advice. Don’t bother with the back exit. They’ll be waiting for you.”

  I’m screwed, thought Will. The best I can hope for is a bloodbath, and the worst involves me being gutted or kidnapped.

  “Eat your food. They can’t do anything until you leave. Jared won’t permit violence inside the inn. Maybe you can wait them out. I’ll be back to check on you in a little while.” With that, she left him alone.

  Chapter 30

  Will ate the food and sipped his ale, politely refusing a refill. He needed his wits about him. An hour passed, and he paid Lynn for a second hour in the snug. Then he asked, “If I wanted to rent a room, whe
re’s the entrance?”

  She pointed across the room. “There’s a private staircase from this room to the second floor where the rooms are. There’s another going up from the front room too, but usually the people who rent a snug don’t want to be seen going upstairs. Are you thinking about renting one?”

  Will shook his head. “No. I’m going to use the back exit once my hour is up.” He passed her a second clima. “For the use of the back door.”

  Lynn frowned. “I warned you about the back already.”

  He winked. “I know. Make sure Jared knows I plan to leave that way.”

  Her eyes lit with understanding. “Ahh, I’ll do that.” She started to leave, then looked back. “Good luck.”

  He waited until she had been gone a minute, then peeked out through the curtain. Some of the other snugs were occupied, but all of them had drawn curtains, so there was no one observing the open part of the room. Will cast the silent armor spell on his clothing, then went across the room to the stairs and ascended carefully.

  At the top of the stairs he found a long hallway with doors leading off at regular intervals on either side. He went to the first door and listened for a moment, increasing the sensitivity of his hearing as much as possible. Someone was breathing inside, though it sounded as though they were asleep. He moved on to the next door.

  He heard nothing, so he tried the handle and discovered the door was locked. Then he cast the unlocking spell, or tried to. At some point he misremembered the runes and his construct fell apart. Summoning the book from the limnthal, he studied the spell for a second, then tried again. This time he succeeded. Opening the door, he hurried inside just in time, for someone had started to open one of the other doors down the hall.

  Will breathed a sigh of relief, for the room was indeed empty. He was alone. His relief was short-lived, however, for it only took a second for him to note that there was no exterior window. He had chosen the wrong side of the hall. He spent a minute or two thinking about the layout of the building. I’m an idiot! he swore silently. Of course, the other side is the one with the outside wall.

  He listened for a brief minute to make sure the hall was empty before exiting again, then he crossed the hall and went down a few doors to listen outside the room that he thought the last guest had stepped out from. He heard breathing. Someone was sleeping inside. Damn it.

  He tried two more doors before he found nothing but silence. Casting his spell once more, he unlocked the door and went inside, then he relocked the door behind himself. Thankfully, this room did have a small window. If he had been given to fat, he wouldn’t have been able to use it, but it appeared to be just large enough to fit his frame.

  The style of the window was unfamiliar to him. He was used to curtains and shutters, but behind the curtain he found a wooden latticework containing glass squares. It took him a moment to figure out how to unlatch it and push the doors apart. Looking out, he saw wooden shutters lying against the exterior of the building, presumably to protect the glass in stormy weather. Beneath him was a side alley that was empty aside from a beggar sleeping against one wall.

  Will cast the climbing spell and descended to the ground, then crossed to the neighboring building and went up the wall as quickly as he could manage. Once he was on the roof, he moved to the backside of the building where he could survey the back alley. From there, he was able to observe the back entrance of the tavern he had left.

  Two men waited by the door, and four more stood ten feet further down the alley. All of them seemed to know one another, for they were talking back and forth. Will scooted as far back as he could, until he was just barely able to see them without exposing himself. He was prepared to wait.

  Half an hour went by before another man appeared, one who he recognized. It was the greybeard, Remi, the man who had hired the first group of thugs that had nearly killed him. Remi began loudly haranguing the men waiting in the alley.

  “What are you so upset about, Remi?” Will whispered to himself with a grin. “Did you lose something?”

  Remi finished scolding his hirelings and they separated, taking separate paths to search the alleys and streets around The Hanged Man. Will continued to watch, hoping he would get lucky.

  After a few minutes most of the men returned and Remi sent them out again, instructing them to search further afield. Once they were gone, he was left alone.

  Will summoned the rope from his limnthal and tied it around a heavy brick chimney emerging from the side of the building beside the side alley. Then he slid down it as gracefully as possible, which in his case wasn’t graceful at all, but at least he made very little noise, thanks to his silent armor spell. Once down, he hurried to the corner and looked around it. Remi was only fifteen feet away.

  For once, luck favored him. Remi was facing the other direction. Will advanced five or six feet and cast the source-link spell, then drained his target until the man collapsed unconscious. Rushing forward, the got his arms around the old man’s chest and dragged him back to his rope. He made a large loop around Remi’s chest, just beneath his arms, then tightened it up and tied it off.

  Using the climbing spell, he went back to the roof and then began dragging the old man up after him. Hauling on the rope hand over hand turned out to be harder than he expected. A year or two before and he might not have succeeded, but his time in the army had served him well. Will did have a brief moment when the old man was almost to the top when he considered just letting the old bastard drop. It would serve him right. But he persisted, and eventually managed to get the man up onto the roof with him.

  With that accomplished, he took hold of Remi’s legs and moved him toward the center of the roof where they couldn’t be observed from the ground. Taking his rope from the chimney, he used it to truss up his captive then went through the old man’s purse and pockets.

  He found seventeen gold, which he stored away in the limnthal, along with an assortment of daggers and blades that the wily old man had secreted all over his person. Will found the man’s wrist sheaths and boot knives particularly interesting. That’s me. Always ready to learn.

  The prospect of waiting hours and hours for the man to recover wasn’t appealing, so Will re-cast the source-link spell and studied his captive thoroughly. Once he thought he had a good feel for the man’s turyn, he tried to match it and slowly injected a tiny amount of his own turyn into the older man. The last thing I want is for him to start retching up here.

  Remi finally came around, his eyes opening slowly to stare at Will in confusion. “What?”

  Will loomed over him, his shadow keeping the sun out of the other man’s eyes. “I heard you were looking for me. Here I am.”

  A sense of alarm passed across Remi’s features, but he didn’t have the energy to sustain it. “What did you do to me?”

  “Very little, thus far,” said Will. “What happens from here depends on you.”

  “What do you want?”

  “Not being hounded by you and your dogs is rising to the top of my list lately. I didn’t enjoy hurting your men a few weeks ago, which is why this time I decided to cut the head off the snake. Tell me, Remi, are you the head? I don’t think so, and if not, it isn’t your neck that needs to bleed.”

  Will could see fear growing on the other man’s face. “I won’t bother you anymore. This was just a job for me. I won’t take it on again.”

  “If you sincerely mean that, then I need to know the name of the man hunting me.”

  Remi winced. “I don’t know who it is.”

  Will rolled the helpless man onto his side so he could see the slope of the roof leading downward. “If that’s really all you know, then I may as well dispose of you and try again with the next crew that comes after me.”

  “Wait! I haven’t finished,” begged Remi. “I don’t know who he works for, but I know the man who does. I can help you find him.”

  He rolled Remi onto his back again. “How can I trust you, Remi? You don’t seem like the trus
tworthy sort.”

  “I wouldn’t dare double-cross you,” said the gang leader. “Not after this.”

  Will rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “I don’t think that’s enough. You might try to run or hide.” Then he slapped his knee dramatically. “I have it!” He moved away from the prone man and turned his back on him.

  “What are you doing?” asked Remi worriedly.

  Will called up the limnthal then summoned one of his empty potion vials. Then he summoned the waterskin he had stored to replace the water jar. He filled the vial three-quarters of the way, then dismissed the waterskin and brought out the spice box. He added ground anise to the vial then re-stopped it and shook the vial vigorously.

  He turned back to Remi and showed him the clear vial, then he began a nonsensical chant and cast the color-changing spell on the water within, turning it a virulent green color. Remi’s cheeks paled. “Given that you’ve been hunting me, I’m sure you know that I’m an accomplished alchemist, don’t you?”

  The old man nodded anxiously.

  Will held up the vial. “This contains a magical poison, but don’t worry, it works very slowly.”

  “I’m not drinking that,” said Remi firmly, struggling to lift himself on shaky arms. Will recast the source-link spell and paralyzed the man, causing him to fall back. He caught Remi before he could start to roll.

  Remi’s eyes darted back and forth fearfully as Will pried his jaws apart and poured the anise-flavored water into his mouth. Then he released the paralysis of the man’s throat muscles while holding his mouth shut and blowing on his face, as though he was giving medicine to a dog. The old man gagged and choked, but eventually he was forced to swallow.

  Will smiled at him maliciously. “That’s a good boy.” He gradually injected a tiny portion of his turyn into the man, enough to make him nauseous and reinforce the illusion of his ruse. “You might feel sick for a little while, but it will pass. You’ll probably start to regain your strength soon, but don’t let that fool you. The poison you’ve taken will start to kill you in a week’s time. I promise you that it will be a slow and painful death.”