We made it in time to have dinner with the rest of the staff after the bar downstair had closed up. Patrick and Zeno and the rest eyed me with varying degrees of curiosity, but walking in with Cate arm and arm seem to alleviate the need to explain my disappearance. Gabriel came over and started asking about my plans since I returned, but when Cate sidled up to me, casually lifted my arm over her shoulder, and rested my hand on her ample breast the questions abruptly dried up. Cate put an arm around my waste and her head on my shoulder and I left my hand in place. I’d never been comfortable with PDA, but it seemed like it was for a good cause in this case.
Cate gave a heavily rearranged version of my story to Patrick, and he vowed that trouble wouldn’t be able to enter the Inn to get to me, 30 days or not. Zeno agreed to act as a clearinghouse for information I got from my runners, as long as I cut him in for a percentage of any profits I was able to use it to demonstrate. We warned all the girls who actually lived in the inn to keep an eye out for strangers, and then the group broke up as everyone headed off to bed. There was an awkward moment as Cate and I walked up the stairs, until I placed a hand on her hip.
“Care to follow me back to my cell, or would you like me to crash in your room?”
Indoor plumbing was definitely a factor, although Cate later swore it hadn’t influenced her decision. We both entered my cell, and after some time we went to sleep. She still snored, a gentle rumble almost like a purr and I found it oddly endearing. Maybe that was just the rosy tint of a new relationship and it would irritate me to no end later, but for now I held her close and enjoyed the sound as I drifted off to sleep with Cate in my arms. Morning came and we exited the cell after Cate had her first experience of a genuine hot water shower. She took to it with the zealousness of a convert and I had to drag her out after a while so we could start the day.
She loaned me a staid brown dress with red trim at the cuffs and hems. Apparently dressing in trousers so I could run or fight was fine in the rougher part of town but I had to dress the part if I wanted to be taken seriously among people of means. Cate picked out the dress and assured me it fit the image I hoped to project, somewhere between wealthy merchant and the genteel poverty of a declining noble. I left my hair loose instead of clubbed up short on my neck in the usual braid, and had to settle for keeping my baton in a thigh sheath as I didn’t have a sleeve to hide it in. My portal bag was still at my belt, leaving my sword within easy reach so I wasn’t too terribly concerned. I’d gotten directions from Cate last night as we made our plans, and so after dressing I headed out into the city alone as she began to make the rounds for her portion of the setup.
The entire city of Kantia was laid out on a large gentle slope. The grade was slight in most places, but still noticeable if you paid attention. The change in elevation had given rise to the name for the nicer neighborhoods where the nobles with townhouses occupied pride of place. Uphill was technically only four or five blocks from the Walk Right Inn, but it was a continent apart in terms of class. Large stone buildings with wooden structures crammed between them often blocking cramped dirty alleys gave way to wider streets and houses with yards. The lawns got bigger and grew fences the further you went, until eventually walled compounds dominated. Each compound was almost an independent territory, answerable only to itself. It was one of those that I was headed to, picking out the one I needed by the pennants hanging from the top of the walls.
I pulled the little rope hanging down in front of the door but didn’t hear a bell or anything on the other side. Two men in livery opened the door, one up close to speak to me while a second stood further back. It was pretty good security. There was no way an intruder could take them both before one had a chance to call for help. They were both probably below average size for men, but still bigger than me and gave off a kind of stern aura. I decided I was glad Cate had talked me into changing outfits.
“I need to talk to the scion of House Verin.”
The close guy looked startled for just a fraction of a second before his face smoothed back out into an impassive mask. He didn’t say anything in response and I just stood there, trying to wait him out. A battle of patience with someone who stands next to a door waiting for people to walk all day long, seven days a week, probably wasn’t my smartest move. I broke first, but was determined not to speak. Instead I pulled the playing card I’d gotten from the swordsman when I was playing bodyguard to the Viscount and handed it to the guard. He looked down at the card and then back up at me, almost visibly reassessing my importance. He stepped back and gave a little half bow, gesturing in a right this way kind of motion and I walked through the gate. The path forward was obvious, with large flat stepping stones leading the way across a perfectly manicured forecourt to an open air gazebo with a giant fireplace. The guard motioned for me to sit and then disappeared back into the estate.
I looked around a little, trying to be subtle about it. There were hanging flowers and climbing vines on trellises around the gazebo, and enough fancy landscaping they must employ a whole team of gardeners just for this townhouse. The gazebo was obviously meant as a waiting area for visitors, a place for them to wait without insulting them, while keeping them from penetrating the privacy of the house itself. After a while a young woman who was shorter even than Cate appeared. She was dressed in a severely cut plain dress, but it was well made and I couldn’t quite place her station. She had short hair in an almost paige boy cut, and was flat chested with a slender frame that would have made her seem like a teen boy if her facial features and way of walking weren’t so obviously feminine. She gave me a calm nod and placed a kettle near the coals of the fire, preparing tea without speaking. She must have been a servant then, I decided and remained silent so she could work in peace. A few minutes later the swordsman I’d known from the attack at the villa came out of the house. He was dressed in a pair of simple gray trousers and a white tunic, with the katana placed in a sash around his middle.
He sat in the seat across from me and held up the hand painted playing card I had given to the guard at the gate. “House Verin pays its debts. What can I do for you, Julia?”
“You know my name?”
“I asked questions after the fiasco with the political league.”
“I attended that event under a false name.”
“I asked extensive questions.”
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I fell silent for a moment digesting that. What would Cate think when she found out our secret identities had been compromised? Going in under fake names had seemed like an unnecessary hassle to me at the time, but since they hadn’t even worked now I began to wonder if we had been paranoid enough. I had spent too much time woolgathering though, and the young serving woman brought us both cups of tea. I thanked her while the nobleman took his in silence. After trying a sip just to be polite I focused in on the reason I was here.
“From the action, I’m sure you noticed that I am a capable warrior. My homeland, however, no longer holds to the traditions of bladed weapons. I seek instruction in the way of the sword, and as you are the most skilled practitioner I have met, I come to you.”
He was silent for a long moment, and I started to get a feeling for why the staff around here was hesitant to talk. This guy had that eastern mysticism thing going for him big time, even though his features seemed to be mostly caucasian. Finally he spoke, even if it was indirectly.
“The art of the dueling master is one that encompasses years of study.”
He let the comment hang there for a while and I figured that it was my turn. “Things worth doing are seldom easily accomplished. I have powerful enemies, and no choice but to pick up the sword.”
He nodded then and finished his tea. Seeming to savor the last mouthful before he stood. “Someone will come to you at the Walk Right Inn and provide instruction. House Verin pays its debts.”
He walked away then before I could offer thanks, and I was left sitting alone with a mostly full cup and the silent eyes of the serving girl. I couldn’t help but shoot a crooked grin at her as I shot back the contents of my own cup. “Talkative fellow, isn’t he?” She looked scandalized by the comment but didn’t respond, and I made my way back to the gate. Heading downhill was an easier trip than up, and it occured to me that probably applied to changes in class as well. I was still pondering the social stratification that seemed to be rooted in the very fabric of this simulation when I drew closer to the Walk Right Inn and spotted a familiar face.
The kid, Flicka, from the poor quarter was loitering near the corner. A slightly shorter kid with an unruly mop of dirty but still visibly red hair on his left, and one wrapped up almost completely in a cloak too big for their frame on the right.
“What’s up, my friend Flicka?”
He still didn’t get the joke, but he gave me a hesitant wave as well. He jerked a thumb towards his two companions. “This is Tyler, and his sister Bug. She doesn’t talk much, but she’s not dumb or anything. We’re here for work.”
I nodded in response. I didn’t really have a use for them yet, that part of the plan would take a while to set up, but I figured it was a good idea to start habituating them to following orders now. I slid my hand into the portal pouch and pulled out the 3 smallest denomination coins I had. I held them up in my hand so everyone could see the wink of copper before closing my fist again.
“I want two things from you for now, and it’s a copper a week if they get done. First off I know you’ve probably got a squat somewhere in the poor quarter. That’s fine, but from now on this neighborhood is your home away from home. You hang out around here unless you’re actually going to sleep. I want you to learn the neighborhood. Who belongs and who doesn’t, where people live and what they do in a day. Once you’ve got the feel for the place, I want you to go into that inn and tell the bartender when strangers are hanging around. He’s a fat guy named Zeno. You give him a heads up that turns out to be good, you’ll get a bonus. Everybody understand the first thing I want?”
Heads bobbed in response, even the girl with the unfortunate name who might or might not actually be dumb. I held up two fingers then. “Second thing, you guys know the flesh markets down by the walls?”
Slavery was legal in Kantia, but it had never really been popular. The free market had proved that paying a pittance of a wage to the destitute was cheaper than feeding and clothing one who was utterly dependent on you. The exception seemed to be for highly skilled slaves, or jobs where the life expectancy was fairly short, like the fighting pits or the public sewers. Still, Kantia had a high enough population density that a flesh market existed, even if public auctions were few and sparsely attended. At least Flicka nodded that he knew where it was, so I directed most of the second requirement to him.
“I want you guys to take turns scoping it out. DOn’t do stupid shit and go inside, but get me an idea of the layout and number of guards, how often a new caravan comes in, stuff like that. Tell Zeno when you think you’ve found out enough. Anybody got any questions?”
They all just stared at me blankly and I sighed. There was no telling if they’d actually do anything beyond take the money and run, but I was still pretty flush from the bodyguard gig, so it wouldn’t exactly hurt to find out. I handed each of them the coin. Bug’s hand darted out of her robe to snatch hers from my palm, but the other two reached out and got theirs in a much calmer method. That’s right, little urchins, you can trust me. I would wear them down bit by bit in the coming days.
Cate was already waiting for me when I went back inside, and I slid into the booth opposite her. “Hey, good looking. You must be tired.”
“Oh, why’s that, dear?”
“Cause you’ve been running through my mind all day.”
“Still atrocious, but better than the last one. I’ve got good news, Julia. Things were even simpler than I had hoped. We are on for this evening in fact.”
I smiled a predatory smile, with a little more teeth than was probably necessary. “Tell me about it.”
“I confirmed the kid Flicka’s story, Phillip, the man who owns that house definitely is a pedophile, and in all probability responsible for many more missing children than the current crop. The rumors have been around for a while, but he’s managed to pay off enough of the guard for it not to matter. He’s smart enough to stick to preying on the poor quarter and his neighbors are willing to live and let live. However, he lives alone and owns the property on an alloidal title.”
I cocked my head at that and she waved a hand dismissing it. “Means he doesn’t have to pay property tax to the Duke. Basically, he inherited from a great grandparent or something. The house is basically free, and he earns a modest income from a trust with a Hobbesian Conglomerate. You remember Adain?” I shook my head and she sighed. “He’s the frightfully thin fellow who vetted you when we first me.”
I remembered him now. He’d been a hell of an actor, able to turn on a veritable forcefield of thinly veiled menace seemingly at will by altering his posture, mannerisms, and voice. I held up a hand and flicked my fingers at her to go on, and she mimed biting at them before she continued.
“Adain’s primary occupation is as a very skilled forger. Utterly realistic documents have already been created and silver exchanged hands to have them filed in appropriate places. It turns out Phillip has a neice. One Julia Crane whom the neighbors haven’t yet met, but who moved in with him last month after arriving in Kantia from Prithia. Shame that all the records from Prithia have been somehow destroyed in a battle no one here has heard about yet. Anyhoo, if Phillip were to die unexpectedly tonight, you would stand to inherit a modest income and a very nice house only a few blocks from here.”
“It can’t be that easy. I know you guys don’t exactly have modern policing but come on.”
“Trust me, darling. I am a professional. It helps that Phillip has an especially unpopular reputation. It turns out quite a few of the extremely lowly paid records clerks happen to be fathers. Dropping the odd document into such a man’s folder is hardly going to be difficult to arrange. Although I warn you, his death really will have to appear accidental. I’m afraid that with any hint of foul play the Reeve will use the opportunity to have the house reverted to the Duke.”
“If you’re sure. I’ll need proof he’s really guilty before I go through with it, Cate. I won’t kill a man merely on suspicion.”
“Oh, come on, darling. Where there is smoke there is fire. 30 days hardly gives you time to be squeamish, and another house is part of our plan. Plus, it's not like any of the little boogers would still be around to bear witness one way or another.”
“Maybe not. We’ll go in tonight, but when we get there first we take a look around. If it seems like he’s guilty, as his niece I’ll discover his body in the morning.”
“It raises the risk, but it’s your show, my dear. If we’re on for tonight, I suggest we retire early to prepare.”