Dead Letter (17 page)

Kettna sunk her mind into the weave and examined the door.
There were no wards or magical locks upon it. It was a plain door.
She brought to mind
Minor Telekinetic
Shift,
hoping the tumblers were well
lubricated and willing to fall. She envisioned sigils of power and
traced them in the weave, precisely around the keyhole. In her
mind’s eye, her finger became a key that entered the barrel, and
she gently twisted it while incanting, “Vilun Telonune. Tarneth
dobnune.” With each cycle of the incantation she poured more of her
mana into the key she twisted. The lock refused to yield to her
telekinetic pressure. Kettna increased the flow until she knew she
was at her peak. With a final mental push, the key snapped and her
mind recoiled from the weave, pain jolting through her finger,
convinced that it too had snapped. Kettna grabbed her hand and
assured herself through the pain that her finger was whole and the
pain would go. The spell was simple for her, but the telekinetic
force required was too great for her ability. If she openly poached
from the mana frog in front of Lanuille she would be dragged off
and pitched into the Lake of Tears by the elders, forever shaming
her family. Without that added mana, she had no chance of opening
the door.

“
What now, Inspector?” asked Lanuille. “Don’t you have another
spell in your extensive repertoire to open it?”

“
Actually, no. I wasn’t studying for burglary.
You?”

“
I could melt the hinges off with a long burn.” Lanuille
centred her pose. “If I can keep my flow steady enough. Or
intensify the bur—”

“
No! Don’t do that. The door will catch fire and who knows
what else. You’ll burn the whole city down from the inside. The
Guildmaster has protected us from dragon flame for this long. Best
we not undermine those efforts. I’ll look for another
entrance.”

They
walked out of the alley, following the old defensive wall, and
doubled back to find that there was nothing behind it. As the city
had developed the wall had become a retainer, filled in and built
up to a narrow terrace of housing. The green door went underground
and, therefore, could link to any number of places. There was no
way of discovering where it went from the street. It might connect
the whole city in a hidden criminal network, or it might lead to an
abandoned storage room; it was pointless to speculate. More to the
point it didn’t matter.

“
Are you ready to head back up to the fortress?” Kettna asked
Lanuille. “We’ve got enough here to question Ginny. With the
Constable’s influence we’ll have his confession and the location of
the lockbox by the end of the day.”

“
You are too confident by half!” laughed Lanuille. “Did I miss
something here? You have nothing to prove anything; just the word
of a slumper and a picker of the dead.”

“
Did you see the slumper’s teeth?” Kettna asked, assured that
she had what she needed.

“
I think I smelt them.”

“
You said it yourself back in the Hall of the Dead. The victim
had perfect teeth. He was not a regular user, if he used at
all.”

“
The slumper has no credibility as a witness. The High Council
wouldn’t believe his word alone.”

“
We have more than his word. We have the word of the Hand of
Nathis, a member of the High Council. His description of events
corroborates that of the junkie. No blood, dead on arrival with
only the chain of office around his neck and blaze planted on him.
We just have to squeeze the truth, even a little, from Ginny to
make a case. He must know something of the Guillan’s lockbox and
gold. It all looks like a set up and I doubt Ginny is the
mastermind. My bet is that the Head Merchant is playing dirty
politics to get an advantage over the Guildmaster.”

“
What if Ginny and his crew are working for Bloody Agnus?”
proposed Lanuille. “What if a criminal mastermind like old Aunty is
stirring trouble in both camps? Theft, murder and corruption are
her daily brew. The Black Hand Boys must be a rival upstart gang.
It could even be payback in a turf war.”

“
You’re right. I’ve had enough warnings about Bloody Agnus. I
should be open to all possibilities.”

“
Bloody Agnus is a real player here, Kettna. The faces you
can’t see are the ones worth watching.”

They commenced the trudge up the hill. It was not yet noon
and her body was aching to sit down. She wished to drop into her
father’s ever so comfortable chair and read
Firelight Tales
. Instead the only
warmth she felt was the burn in her legs and the summer sun on her
neck. By the end of her commission as Inspector of the Guard she
would have the thighs of a warrior and a tan to match.

CHAPTER TEN

Guardsman Ginny

Before they reached Founders Fort, Kettna asked the twins to
disappear down a nearby street. The illusions did as literally
commanded, vanishing before the eyes of three children throwing
marbles. Kettna’s heart warmed with the wonder on the young
witnesses surprised faces. It was easy to forget the simple marvels
of magic when a sorcerer’s life was dedicated to fathoming arcane
intricacies. These children were a sweet reminder of how
captivating the gift of magic was.

Kettna
and Lanuille continued on until the spike crested guard with the
menacing halberd stopped them at the gatehouse. “What is your
reason for entry?” he asked, as if he had no memory of their last
conversation, nor who Kettna was.

“
I’m here to report back to the Constable,” she replied. “I’m
the new Inspe—“

“
He’s attending the morning patrol, Inspector,” said the
fighter, giving her a crisp salute, hand over heart. “I was just
pulling your leg. You’re one of us now, so you can come and go as
you please.”

Kettna
imitated his salute as thanks, but by the smile on the warrior’s
face, she made a poor copy.

“
Might need to practice that. Looks like you slapped your
chest with a fish.”

“
Sorry, how do I do it correctly? I’ve not had a lesson in
guard etiquette.”

The
guard demonstrated and Kettna tried again. “Right hand straight as
a paddle and palm to your heart. Briskly on the way and crisply to
your side. That’s it! Couldn’t be simpler.”

“
Looks like you are both trying to dislodge a chicken bone,”
said Lanuille.

“
Good thing we practiced before lunch then,” quipped the
warrior. “Wouldn’t you say, Inspector?”

“
Indeed! If Lanuille has any trouble with her meal, I’ll be
quick to impress upon her my newly acquired skill.”

The
adept failed to rally a smile. “Shouldn’t we find this guard you
are after?”

“
Who are you looking for?” asked the gate guard. “Any of us
would be glad to help.”

“
His name is Ginny. Is there a guard by that name
here?”

The
gatekeeper’s face pulled into a frown. “He’s not the helpful kind.
Thick as a ham, but thinks he’s a devil’s advisor. Mind that both
you ladies stick together. He’s a bit of a brute.”

“
Just the man I’ve been holding out for,” said Lanuille.
“Where do we find him?”

“
Boy!” called the gatekeeper, prompting the appearance of the
page who helped them earlier. The boy was rolling a barrel in front
of him. “You seen Ginny?”

“
Yes, sir. He’s on training duty with the
recruits.”

“
Gods help them. Take our Inspector to the sparring yard,
would you? And how’s that chainmail coming along?”

“
If I roll there and back, the links will shine brighter than
the silver you’ll owe me.”

The
guardsmen waved him off. “Get on with ya!”

The boy
rolled his barrel away and the mages followed, listening as the boy
instructed them on the importance of weapons and armour
maintenance. “But I have no armour,” explained Kettna.

“
What about a sword or something? Maybe a wand that shoots
lightning?” he asked.

“
That would be grand, wouldn’t it.“

“
A guardsman has to have something, or the street will swallow
‘em whole.”

“
I’ve just got my wits.”

“
I hope they’re sharp then.” The boy stopped and pointed to a
fenced off area with guards watching a fight in the centre. “That’s
Ginny in the middle.”

Ginny
was surrounded by three guards in training. One recruit was
overweight, his belly peeking out beneath his gambeson. Another was
tall and so skinny that his padded armour looked like a heavy
dress. The third recruit was a woman about Kettna’s age in armour
that squeezed her bosom so tight; she drew leers and cheers from
the onlooking men. Ginny wore no armour, but easily dodged and
parried the haphazard attacks made by the recruits.

“
Call the Constable!” yelled Ginny, turning his back on the
trio or trainees. “We need fresh meat, cause this lot’s
rotten!”

The
skinny man swung his blunted sword in a slow awkward arc at Ginny’s
back. The more experienced fighter was expecting it and stepped to
the side. The sword came down hard on the packed dirt of the yard
and jolted from the recruit’s grip. Ginny swung his leg in a dance
like parody and slogged his attacker in the stomach, dropping him
to the dust. “Or maybe this fat bastard ate all the good uns!” he
joked.

The
crowd laughed and the ridicule stirred the heavyset recruit to
motion. The big man screamed a battle cry and threw his sword at
Ginny, whose eyes betrayed great surprise. End over end it flew,
and the hilt collided with Ginny’s shoulder. The impact drew a
curse from the more experienced fighter, and he dropped his weapon,
clutching at the pain. With no armour padding, he would have a
bruise to remind him for days.

Ginny
charged the fat man, who was now defenceless, punching him in the
jaw and knocking him back. The big man took the hit and came at
Ginny, throwing his weight into a tackle that sent them both
sprawling in the dirt. Ginny manoeuvred out of the heavy recruit’s
grapple and lay into him. Punch after punch rained down. The man’s
head lolled in limp resignation, his face spilt in several bloody
gashes, but Ginny kept on.

“
We yield!” screamed the woman. “Leave off! He’s knocked to
oblivion.”

The
crazed guard’s face glowed with delight at the brutality, smiling
through the exertion of the beating. He was not going to stop. The
female recruit restrained him from behind. Ginny quickly overcame
her grip and struck back, knocking her clean out. She lay with
blood gushing from a broken nose. Ginny’s chest was heaving with
the exertion, but his eyes wanted more. He gave the woman a kick in
the ribs before he was stopped by a shrill whistle pipping from one
of the onlookers.

“
Call it a day, Ginny,” said the whistler, a formidable man
with a scar along his dark brow. He wore the surcoat of an ordinary
Calimskan Guard, but bore it over the accrued armour of a
mercenary.

“
C’mon, Captain. If they can’t take a beatin’ how they gonna
know how ta give ‘em?”

“
I doubt you care so dearly for their education. Get back to
your barracks and rest. You’ll need it tonight.”

Kettna
was shaken after watching Ginny deal such a beating upon the
recruits. She couldn’t help imagine herself faring much worse. What
if Ginny attacked her during the questioning? He was a violent man
and hadn’t hesitated to attack the female recruit. Kettna had no
fighting experience, but she couldn’t be intimidated.

“
Excuse me, Captain, I’m the new Inspector. I need a word with
Ginny before he retires.”

The
guard captain greeted her with a quizzical smile. “He’s under my
command, Inspector. If there have been complaints made against him,
I’m happy to sort it out. You’ve got more important investigations
to attend.”

“
I am attending such an investigation, actually. I need some
advice on weapons. What weapons do you have?” asked Kettna, noting
a broadsword, a hatchet, a dagger on each boot and guessing he had
more she could not see. “I was told to enquire with skilled
warriors like yourself for advice on weaponry, I’ve never lifted a
sword in my life.”

Ginny
swaggered toward them and leaned over the fence where the mages and
the captain were speaking. “You’ve got pull, Malek! But I bet you
can’t manage two ladies like this. I’ll take the pretty doll and
you can have the broody bird.” Malek gave him a stern look and
Lanuille looked ready to scald the swing from his stride. “Why so
serious? Have a laugh!”

“
The gatekeeper told me that I should talk to the experienced
guards about weapons,” Kettna swallowed her pride and played out
her ruse. “Ginny, your name came up when I asked some of the other
female guards and I see that they weren’t exaggerating. You can
handle yourself!”

“
Is that so?” Ginny winked at his captain and rolled his
shoulders back. “That riffraff ain’t nothing for me though. I’ve
seen worse battles than you’d imagine.”