Chapter 57
Trust is a fragile thread. It is very hard sometimes to spin, but it weaves up into excellent cloth, something that is really worth the wearing, shining splendidly in the light. But badly used, the thread can snap or shatter, and turned the once glorious fabric into rags. Take care of your trust.
Aphorisms for a Quiet Life by Ruddtha Redstone, Chairman of Toolets Manufacturing, Sunderland
Umber Madrona stepped out of the morning freight carriage with his stack of papers in hand. “Busy morning. Going to take me a while to get this all registered.”
“Well, you may have more to do, but I’m glad that lot of crap is finished,” Gob Hezney said, wiping his oversized Spriggan forehead with a large kerchief. “It’s bad enough loading wool. It’s heavy and stinks, but wool and manure in the same shipment?” He shook his head in disbelief “Who needs all that fertilizer? Sheep hair and sheep muck – I’ll be having nightmares about sheep tonight, I tell you! Where does Turbot find all these customers?”
Umber nodded sympathetically. “It was rather...well shall we say, fragrant in there before we finished. I hope the crew in Meridae can handle it.” He looked at his papers, and thumbed to the right form. “Odd thing about the manure. It’s not going to a farm. Looks like someone in Sunderland figured out something to make out of it. It’s going to Primila Manufacturing. Don’t know who they are, but that’s who’s paying for it.”
“Eh, who knows? Maybe they’re raising mushrooms on it. I’ve heard of that. Still, strange world we live in.” Gob stashed his kerchief in a pocket of his overalls, and headed towards the exit. “Well, I’m going to take a bath when I get home for lunch. I’ll be damned if I’m going to smell like rotted sheep droppings all afternoon.”
Behind them the transport crew were locking up the carriage, getting it ready to head out. The locks slammed into position, and the carriage vanished as they walked away.
Gob turned back to look at Umber, and gave him a wink. “And if I were you, I’d wash up a little bit before you meet up with your lady friend for lunch. You didn’t handle the bags, but odors linger when you’re around them long enough. I’m sure some of that stink rubbed off.”
That caught Umber off-guard. “Uh, maybe you’re right,” he said. He waved to Jabot, the delivery manager as he headed out, who grinned at the two men.
“Gob, what did you roll in?” Jabot asked at the Spriggan walked near enough.
“Don’t give me that, you...you…” Gob said. He started to clinch his fist, but then relaxed it“You know perfectly well what I’ve been in. You set up the work schedule. Teasing a tired man is a dark thing.”
“Well, this afternoon, it’ll be tiles and storage pots and flour barrels.”
“Sounds delightful,” Gob said. “At least it won’t stink.”
Umber just shook his head. He’d never understand Jabot’s need to tease. Waving to his porter friend one last time, he made his way back to the office. It was empty for the moment.
“Ah, at least I’ll be able to get started in peace,” he said, pulling out his ledgers.
Content at the turn of events, he began doing his paperwork. Thumbing the first receipt, he murmered, “Copper pots and spices,” writing down the values. “Something will be cooking at the candy makers.”
One by one he went through them. “Three bolts of red flannel.” His pen scratched across the register. “Verdigris. Oil of Shamus. Candles of Rivrin. What is the herbalist up to?”
He continued on that way, tallying the imports until the last item was entered, when the door opened up and Thornfield Witstone walked in. He was slump shouldered, frowning, and his spikes radiated unease.
“Something come up?” Umber asked as he put away the morning’s cash receipts.
“Stupid women,” Thornfield murmured under his breath. “Always wanting something for nothing.” He made his way to his own desk, not really looking at Umber. Sitting down he gave a deep sigh, looked at what looked like a Dragon Web message in his hand one more time, as if rereading it could make it go away, and then looked up at his apprentice.
“Bad news?” Umber asked.
“Something like that. Look, I have to be two places at the same time this afternoon. I’ve had a scheduled meeting with Mayor Turbot for this afternoon on the calender for the last two weeks, and then that little chit of a dragon egg Sheena tossed me this right as I was walking in. And she’d had it on her desk for all morning!”
He got up and tossed it on Umber’s desk. Umber picked it up. It was written on DIC Headquarters stationary.
“DIC VIP Coach coming at the hour after midday. Please be there to greet and facilitate all aid for the persons arriving,” Umber read outloud. “Why? Who’s coming?”
“You know as much as I do. I need you to meet whoever it is, pat them on the head, and keep them happy until I get back. So go eat lunch, then put on your uniform and do the DIC proud.”
Thornfield leaned against the doorframe. “This is an important for me. Very. Sorry to leave you in the lurch.” Somehow there was nothing about how he looked at Umber that said anything about being sorry. Instead, he had the aura of high level nervousness. “Got to run, or I’m going to be late. You can tell me all about it when I get back.”
He hurried out of the door.
“Escaping?” Umber asked. “But why? Does he know something I don’t?” Not sure of what was going on, he put up his ledgers. While he was doing this there was a knock on the door. When he answered it, he found Lana standing there, her eyes filled with curiosity.
“Funny things are happening,” she said. “Thornfield was having a long private chat with Sheena and one of Mayor Turbot’s men. The man left, then Sheena and Thornfield came out of the room they were in and they were having some sort of argument. I’m not exactly sure what it was about, but Sheena sure seemed to be expecting something from him. Then he checked the back to see if you were done yet. His spikes were flaring red as he marched back to the DIC office. I tried to ask Sheena what was up, but she just laughed me off. Then I saw Thornfield run out of the front of the building like a Gallu was after him.” She gave Umber a concerned look. “Is everything all right?”
“I have no idea,” Umber said, shrugging. “He burst in and said he had an appointment with the mayor at the same time this is happening.” He showed the message to Lana. “VIPs are coming. He said he got it right before coming into the office. He wants me to meet the VIP carriage.”
Lana took the note from him and looked at the back of it, where the letter was stamped and addressed. “Huh. This came in this morning. I put it in the mail pouch for Thornfield this morning, and Jazlin dropped it off just after the morning freight shipment came in. He’s known about it that long. Why would he tell you that?”
“He’s a strange man,” Umber said. “I think he’s scared of someone from DIC headquarters. Maybe he’s scared they’ll transfer him and spoil all his deals with Turbot and the other folk he helps make a little extra money.”
“All the DIC offices do some of that,” Lana said. “It’s normal. It’s one of the perks of being station master. You think he might be involved with something more?”
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“If he was a gray, I’d understand him more, maybe...but when other folks come into the DIC, they have other motivations than investigating.”
“Well let’s have lunch. I brought some goodies.” Lana said. “Beema pasties.
Springberry tarts.”
“Sounds lovely,” he said. Reaching in his desk drawer, he pulled out his own meal, and together they went to the lunch room.
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At Pixie Hollow, Elaine Allyns had left Gan to concentrate on her cooking lunch. That was her excuse, but she was really interested in what Rob Greenway had managed to accomplish in the day since her sister Arriane had convinced her to send the young man over to be her gardener, handyman and companion. She was not disappointed as she walked through the grounds where Rob had been working hard since his first day. First, they looked at the flower beds that surrounded the front of the little house. The flower beds had been tamed and were glowing with early spring perennials with some annuals leafing out.
“You’re a lot like your father, Rob,” Elaine remarked. “You have a talent for helping things thrive.”
He beamed at the compliment. “It’s where most of my magic is,” he said. “Not the strongest talent, I’ve been told, but I love to help things grow. You’ll have to come back in a month or two and see if you still think that.”
She chuckled a little. “I’m sure I will be.”
They walked to the right of the little house and just a bit past it. “This is the main vegetable patch,” Rob said with some pride. A few seedlings were coming up in neat rows. Bean frames stood in place, waiting for their vines to grow.
“As neat and professional as I expected from you,” she said.
“I hope it’s big enough,” Rob said. “I’ve started redoing the root cellar, too.” He pointed to a mound not far from the garden proper. “It was in pretty bad shape.” They moved past the vegetable plot. “The herb garden will go over there,” Rob said, pointing to a separate bed that was separated from the veggie garden by a neat row of bricks and a border. Currently it boasted a couple of very small rosebushes, but unlike the vegetable bed, it wasn’t in neat rows, but meandered a bit, with various pockets to separate out plants that needed to be kept separate from each other. An inviting bench sat in its center, with paving stones leading back to the rest of the grounds and a well was near its border. It was backed by a row of berry bushes, and beyond that, fruit trees.
“It’s a little early to put down all the herbs, but I have some seeds planted. Is it all right for me to take cuttings or seedlings from the Allynswood gardens?” Rob asked.
“Of course,” Elaine said, nodding. “As long as you talk to Gan about it first.”
“Always do,” the young gardener said. “We have it all planned out.”
“You seem to work well with her,” Elaine said, giving him a positive look. He knew that look well, and had fought to receive it more than a time or two when he was growing up and helping his father. “I’m glad. I suspect it would be fairly lonely out here without you for company.”
He scratched the back of his head. “Well, Mistress Gan is never really alone, what with the Pixies and everything,” Rob said.
Rosebud flew over from one of the apple trees, landing on his cap, and looked down at him, a feat that was just starting to feel natural to him. “Mistress Gan is the best,” she said.
Elaine, slighly surprised by the little woman, laughed a little at the way she was talking to Rob. “That’s why she’s been my friend a long, long time.”
“Moxie keeps an eye on her all the time,” Rosebud said, looking up at Elaine. “She’s never alone, except when she goes to sleep. She put up a barrier that keeps me out.”
“Well, we bigs do like to have a little privacy once in a while,” Elaine said. She turned her eyes back to Rob. “You seem to have adjusted to the Pixies fairly well.”
“They’re not so bad once you get to know them,” Rob admitted. “And Leila and Cullin show up every few days. It’s less quiet over here than you think.”
“That’s good to know. I’ve been worried about her being out here, and her getting homesick for her old life. It can be hard when life changes for you as much as her life has, and you don’t have enough company and things to do to make up for it.”
“I can believe that. My da had problems when he had to give up working at Allynswood full time. I thought my ma was going to kick him out of the house before he settled down.”
“I’m glad he’s doing better.” Elaine gave Rob a nod and a big smile. “I like how he comes around once in awhile. The gardens weren’t the same without him chasing everybody around to do it just his way.”
“That’s Da’s way, that’s for sure.”
The two reached the end of the gardens proper, and reached the orchard. “Mistress Gan was wondering if we could plant some peach trees,” Rob said. “I hear her talking about her peach pie a lot. It’d be good if we could make her happy on that.”
“I can’t see why not, if there’s room for them.”
“I’ll talk to Cobain then, when I go to Allynswood tomorrow,” Rob said. “I bet he has some young trees ready to transplant.”
“He always has stayed on top of things that way.” Elaine looked at Rob with a thoughtful look, as if she had come to a decision. “I know I said you were to be here on a month’s probation, but I think from what I’ve seen, I’m ready to move you into full gardener status. You’ve done well, Rob Woodway. I’m very pleased to see how well you’re working out here.”
His face glowed with the unexpected award. “Me? Really?”
“Yes. Soon as I get back, I’ll get the paymaster to get right on it. And you when you get off, can go and tell your Lily the good news.”
He blushed at that. “I...I will. Thank you so very much, ma’am. Thank you.”
Dahlia flew by, and landed on Rob’s shoulder. “There you two are! Mistress Gan told me to tell you it was lunch time. We’re all hungry, and she won’t dish up until you get there. Please! I’m so hungry!”
Elaine laughed. “Well, let’s not have the whole Pixie clan mad at us, right, Rob?”
“You’re right about that,” Rob said.
And together, they headed back to the house.
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At the Goblin Market Dragon Web station, Lana walked Umber back to his office. “So what do you do when a VIP carriage comes in?” she asked as they walked in.
Umber moved to the storage cabinet and took out his uniform jacket and slipped it on. “Mostly, I guess, it’s just meet with whoever’s on it, and help them do whatever they came to do...direct them, answer questions, send them to the inn, things like that. Liaison and flunky. I don’t know why Thornfield is so nervous about doing it. It’s usually easy work.”
“He acts like a man with a guilty conscience,” Lana said, leaning on the edge of Umber’s desk, “or afraid that the VIP is coming for him.”
“He does, doesn’t he?” Umber smoothed the front of his jacket. “Does this still look all right? I haven’t worn it since I came back from the time with Byrony.”
Lana moved in closer, and picked off a piece of lint off his shoulder and stepped back as he buttoned his jacket. “You look fine,” she said, “and I’m sure you’ll do fine.” She flashed him a brilliant smile that showed her full approval. “You have the right spirit for being a DIC agent.” She rested a hand on his chest. “You’ll never end up being stuck as the head DIC officer in a little station like this. I bet, with time, you’ll end up working at Headquarters if you want it. I just know it.”
He rested his hand over hers. “Thank you for believing in me. You don’t know what that means to me.”
Her fluff glowed with happy satisfaction. “Well, when you’re done with all this, you’ll have to tell me everything you can. But I know you’ll do fine.” She freed her hand and rested it along the side of his face. “But now, I have to go back to work...and you probably need to go to the VIP lounge to wait.”
“Yeah,” he managed to say. His throat had suddenly went dry and his heart pounded a bit at her touch.
For a moment neither of them moved, but Lana reluctantly dropped her hand and moved to the door. “Come see me after your shift ends. I’ll be waiting!”
He stood there for a moment, catching his breath, then got a drink of water from the office carafe before heading out himself. When he got to the VIP lounge, this time, unlike when Byrony came to visit, he was the only person waiting. For a moment, he wondered if the instructions were faked to excuse Thornfield for the afternoon, but then the alarm that always let go when a carriage was coming in sounded. Voices in the back called out as they secured the carriage in place and there was the sound of metal clanking. One of the local travel stewards, a pretty little brown dragonkin woman in a smartly turned out Dragon Web uniform emblazoned with the B&F logo, went to the front of the carriage doors, followed by one of the Spriggan porters who worked with the traveler carriages. One of the carriage attendants hurried to the front and undid the final latch, then the travel steward opened the door.
“Welcome to Goblin Market, gentlemen. It’s a lovely spring afternoon here, sunny and pleasant, although I suspect it’s a little cooler than in Sunderland. We hope you enjoy your time here. Please let us know if there is anything we can do to help you while you’re here.” She motioned the Spriggan to enter.
Umber stepped up closer as well, and watched as two Dragonkin men strode out, both in the uniform of the DIC headquarters group. One of them he recognized from his time as Byrony’s attache.
“Aspen? Aspen Bloodstone?” Umber said.
Aspen looked up and nudged his fellow traveler, then waved to the young Dragonkin. “Ah, Umber, you’re just the person we were hoping would meet us. Umber Madrona, meet Balston Mullin. We’re on a special investigation that brought us to Goblin Market for a little while.”
“Byrony told us he wrote you to explain what’s going on,” Balston said. “We want to pick your brain about a couple of local women before we go and talk to them.”
“Byrony wrote me?” Umber said, totally surprised. “When?”
“You never got the message?” Asper said. “He sent it on the 16th. Should have gotten here the same day.”
“I was off that day. Why didn’t Thornfield leave it on my desk?” Umber’s spikes grew dark.
The two investigators exchanged glances. “Is your Senior around?”
Umber shook his head. “He claimed he had an appointment with the mayor. For some reason, he was really nervous about meeting your carriage.”
“If he’s going to act like that, I can understand,” Asper said. “But that means your office is free for us to use. Let’s go there and we’ll fill you in.”
Taking their bags from the Spriggan, the two investigators followed the younger man as they headed back to Umber’s office.