I met him at one of his offices. This one was a room above a barbershop, and from what I could tell it was legit and he ran it like he did everything else. I didn’t see a stray hair in the whole place.
He was up on the fifth floor leaning on the front of a desk with a massive paned window behind him. It was the biggest solid piece of glass I’d seen on the northside. The river and the heart of the city with all its towers stretched out hazily behind him. He had a bottle of good whiskey and two glasses. We used them.
“So, you finished with your civic duties for the time being?” He said. I was sitting in a big leather chair lighting my pipe and almost set the place on fire.
“What the hell do you know about it?” I said.
“Nothing concrete. This one was out of my scope, which isn’t something I’m used to.” He said, raising an eyebrow at me.
“Is that why you sent me to Heldar?”
“No, I did that because you asked. Was that part of it?”
“Sorry friend, the answer to that question is signed away with the rest of my rights. What did you want to see me about?”
He smiled wider than the window and set his glass down loud and empty and walked around to the back of the desk.
“Other than to wish you well after your lapse in good health, and to show you what real smoke is like,” He pointed to the box of cigars he had given me when I arrived. It was dark redwood with gold leaf lettering. I had wondered how many years I could go without paying rent if I handed it to my landlord.
“I also wanted to ask about your plans for the future, career-wise.” He got something out of the drawer, a piece of card paper. It reminded me of the one I had gotten from Ethelyn. I finished my drink.
“I'll still be available to work, don’t worry. I don’t imagine the boys will be giving me more hours than before my little vacation.”
I had been working full duty with the guards for the last year or so and guarding for Rodgar on the side. It wasn’t exactly legal, but it was expected with guys like me. After I got back from Novera I had made a point to burn up leisure time whenever I found it.
The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.
“So, you plan on signing back on with the guard then?” He said, lighting a cigar from a strange metal stick he got out of a crystal and brass box on the desk.
“I don’t see why not. They pay well. Could be a captain one day.”
“I figured with all your manhunting as of late you might be changing jobs.”
The word manhunting found its way from my ears to my heart and did some damage there. I stood up and walked to the window to take in the view.
“Well, if that’s what I was doing, then it was only a onetime thing.”
“No good at it?”
“I wouldn’t say that.”
“It can be quite lucrative.”
“Bounty hunting is not my idea of a career.” I said to the skyline.
“What about missing persons?”
“What about them?”
“There’s quite a lot of them recently, and as I said, it could be quite lucrative.”
“Tracking down rich kids who had one too many on the wrong side of town is not my idea of a career either. What’s that?”
He had been holding the card paper in his hand like he was waiting for something.
“My son Max works at finding missing people in Euralen, or he did until recently. He's moving up here to Throne next month.”
Rodgar had never so much as mentioned having a pet. Him bringing up his son was something I hadn’t expected. I wondered if he was about to cash in my oath of loyalty.
“You want me to show him around?”
“Yes, but not as a job, just as a favor between friends.”
He handed me the card.
“I say he tracks missing persons but they do a lot more than that.”
“They?” The card was brown like stained Oak and the lettering was a dull bronze. The font was bold and oddly stylized. It looked terrible.
“He's got a company, a few of his school friends, but good lads. Just a bit green. They take all kinds of jobs. Usually those that the guards don’t have time for.”
“Or don’t care for.” I said.
“Right. They don’t specialize necessarily, but missing persons is their top paying gig, next to adultery.”
I smiled at him and looked back at the card.
Max and Darlic
Hounds for hire!
Private hands
Private Eyes
For Private work
On the back was an address in the Old City dock district here in Throne.
“They got into it originally when a friend of theirs went missing. Never found him, but got a calling out of it.” Rodgar said.
“You want me to help them get a feel for the city.”
He looked at me for a moment and his face got soft.
“Yes, show them around, and if you hit it off, maybe you could go to work with him.”
“You want me to work for your son?”
“Not for, with. His outfit is making good money and they’ve been looking to bring someone more experienced on. He asked my recommendation.”
I looked back at the card. Rounding up rich kids gone missing after a bender, spying on wives cucking my clients, maybe catching a few cat burglars in the act, if they were amateur enough. It was ugly from every angle, but I didn’t want to say no to Rodgar outright, if for no other reason than the thought of signing on to the guards again made me sick to my stomach and I hadn’t figured out why.
“I’ll think about it.” I said.
“Glad to hear it. He’ll be in town the first of next month. Let’s have some more of that whiskey.”