It had not been an expert who had done this. That much was clear to Renier from the start. Although they had stolen the key to the lockbox that held the documents, Halil’s office had been tossed. Like they had been looking for something when it was obvious that they knew exactly what they had come for.
The other matter that stood out was that they had overpowered the two guards outside instead of entering stealthily. ‘If it had been me,’ he thought, ‘no one would have known it had been taken. So, the obvious conclusion is that they wanted it to be known. Was it some type of blackmail? If it was that, why would they try to kill Halil?’ The questions kept pouring as Renier inspected the office. ‘Things didn’t add up!’
Of particular importance was one scroll that had been taken. The rest were, for the most part, inconsequential, but this specific scroll was sensitive. The information was coded, but if they had the resources to learn of the document's existence, they had the resources to decode it. It further meant that there was an informant. But that wasn’t Renier’s concern. The Pasha had asked him to get the document back and capture or kill the perpetrators. ‘Why him?’ he had asked, ‘And Halil had answered simply. On that scroll were the names of every informant they had used in Constantinople. And that’s why it didn’t add up. If it had been agents from Rûm, they would want to keep it quiet to catch the spies, and if it were blackmail, they wouldn’t want to hurt Halil.’
It seemed that someone was looking into him. ‘The Ebon?’ It seemed too sophisticated for the Ebon. They were much more frontal. ‘His uncle?’ Maybe with Aunt Martha’s help, he could have people working here for him. If that was the case, it was a loose end he couldn’t afford!
Regardless, he needed to help Halil find the perpetrators and get to the bottom of the attack. His only advantage was that they didn’t know his abilities.
He stood at the center of the room and entered dagraha. Then, he recalled the mandala pattern and constructed it in his mind. He had not practiced this particular weave enough to instaweave it, so he painstakingly visualized all of its details; he weaved the intricate lines with Mu energy from his crown gate and crystallized his intent. A wave of energy expanded into the room, and its echo returned to him. Inside dagraha, he could clearly see the wave as it returned. The signature - the unique pattern of each Mu shell - of three individuals was clearly visible. With the patterns firmly in mind, he expanded his perception to encompass the city and started the tedious process of comparing signatures until the correct ones were found. The Keeper had taught him how to let his subconscious do the work. If they were in the city, it would only be a matter of time.
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It was almost evening when Renier finished his interview with Guildmaster Ibrahim and successfully joined the Silk Merchant’s Guild. He was now headed to a pub a few streets down from the Guild that was a favorite of Gazi. Many times, they had enjoyed the Kavurma stew together. ‘Farida may be a little putout, but since I’m so close, I can’t miss the stew,’ he mused as he walked through the crowd.
Half a block ahead of him walked a young lady. He noticed her because she had an extravagant blue hooded cape covering most of her body. As he watched, a boy - no more than 14 - relieved her of her purse and quickly handed it to an accomplice, who in turn handed it to a man in his forties who walked with a fake limp.
As the man walked past, Renier moved like lightning and retrieved the purse without the thief being the wiser. He smiled at his successful, artful dodge.
He quickened his steps and caught up to the lady, “Selamün aleiküm, hanımefendi. It seems you dropped your purse.” Crystal blue eyes and flowing red hair in a face he recognized assaulted him. “Meryem?”
“Master Orhan, please call me Dalia,” she said with a bit of surprise, “I had not expected to see you again.”
‘Red hair,’ thought Renier, “You dropped your purse.” His heart started to pound, ‘did that mean she was the one?’
“Thank you, Master Orhan. Most kind of you!”
“Perhaps you could join me for tea?” Blurted Renier.
“Some other time, Master Orhan. I have pressing business.” And she turned to leave. Then, as if thinking it over, “I’m staying with my uncle at the inn Sarayhan for a few days. We could meet there for tea? The day after tomorrow in the afternoon?” She didn’t wait for a response and quickly left.
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Skandar was fidgeting. He didn’t understand why he had to have a tutor. Learning to fight was all he needed.
They were talking to the fifth person that day. A stodgy old man who was at least three sizes too big and whose breath smelled. Renier spoke to him while Skandar listened. ‘There is absolutely no way I’m going to spend every morning with this guy,’ thought Skandar.
“… I’m quite versed in the history of the Empire, its government, and geography,” he was answering one of Renier’s standard questions, “I’m sure I can teach young Skandar all he needs to learn,” the tutor answered with a slightly nasally voice.
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Renier turned toward Skandar inquisitively, and the latter made a face of disgust, “Thank you, Master Zayd; we have a few more tutors to interview and will inform you should you be selected,” said Renier as he got up from his chair and showed the candidate out.
“Skandar, you need to select one. Anyone. If you don’t like them after you try them, we can switch, but you need to pick one!”
“I’m happy just learning to fight and the other stuff!”
“You need to learn more than fighting and meditation,” as he quickly left.
‘Warriors don’t need to know all this other stuff,’ thought Skandar as he dreamed of the great battles he would have.
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‘That insufferable kid! What had ever possessed him to take him as an apprentice? And now he was late!’ Renier’s thoughts were jumbled as he rode in the carriage to the appointment with Meryem. ‘Is she the one? What are the odds that I would meet a redhead here? But she’s with the Yendeci. It must be a coincidence.’ He hated being late.
He practically jumped out of the carriage when they arrived and entered the Inn. There was a small dining hall to the left of the entrance, and at a table towards the center sat Meryem and an older gentleman.
“Selamün aleiküm, Dalia Hanim, please excuse my lateness,” Renier said, slightly bowing.
“Aleiküm selam, Master Ohran, please do not worry. My uncle and I have been enjoying our tea. Let me present to you my Uncle Rasim.”
“Selamün aleiküm, Rasim Efendi. It is a pleasure to meet you.”
“Aleiküm selam, Master Ohran, the pleasure is mine,” he said, standing up, “Please do not take offense, but now that you are here, I have business to attend to,” said Rasim, “please sit.”
Renier scanned him before he left and confirmed he was a Yendeci. The tell-tale shield talisman hung on his chest.
“May I pour you some tea, Master Orhan?” Asked Meryem.
“Thank you,” answered Renier. Then, under his breath, “All right, Meryem or Dalia, what’s your real name, and what’s going on?”
“Master Orhan, you’re so impatient,” answered Meryem coquettishly as she handed him the cup.
Then, in a more serious tone, “My name, as I told you, is Meryem, but as a Yendeci Scholar, I’m known as Dalia. This is because of my past, but I will tell you about it another time. If there’s another time, that is!”
“What are you doing here?”
“You may not know, but the Yendeci do not run around searching for ancient manuscripts. We are an organization of scholars, and many of us advise merchants, guilds, and even some government officials. Uncle Rasim - I’m sure you noticed he was a Yendeci and not my real uncle - is giving advice to one of the Guilds. Since I have some martial skills, I’m here - don’t laugh - to provide some security for him!” She finished.
Renier couldn’t help but smile.
“Don’t laugh. I’m quite capable when not being ambushed by thugs.”
“Scholars. I could use a scholar!”
“Why would you need a scholar?”
“I was late because I was interviewing tutors for my apprentice. I met with five, and not one gave me any confidence. You wouldn’t happen to know a good tutor?”
“What subjects?”
“Mostly about the Empire. The government, geography, noble houses, etc. The rest we can take care of at the se… well, just those subjects.”
“If only that, I could help you if you like. My uncle and I will be here for two months, and I have very little to do during the day.”
“I couldn’t impose,” said Renier, but he didn’t mean it. For some reason, he liked the opportunity to see Meryem more.
“It’s no imposition. We had a bad start, and I want to repay my rescue. I don’t know what would have happened if you hadn’t intervened. Please, let me do this small thing.”
It didn’t take much convincing, “very well, I’ll come pick you up tomorrow after breakfast.”
They continued talking until almost dusk before Renier reluctantly left.
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In Ancyra, they say, “The third chance is luck,” and perhaps they were right. The third time that Renier found a match for the signature, he found the three people who had ransacked Halil’s office. They were in a room in the back of a warehouse by the caravan yard. The three had been drinking and had passed out. It was apparent these weren’t the masterminds behind the theft of the document. So, Renier tagged them; he left a mark on their Mu shell that he could easily find.
He would have Halil spook them with the guards and see if they ran to their master.
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They were held for a full day of questioning and released that evening. Renier followed from a couple of blocks away as they left the Kalesi. One broke off from the group and cut across the bazaar at Atpazarı, then a circuitous route back to the Hisar neighborhood and entered one of the houses.
Renier skimmed to a shadow on the wall and then to the rooftop. He listened by the courtyard, then skimmed next to the door of the room the thief entered and listened.
“… We denied everything. No one talked. They had no proof and let us go,” said the thief to a figure Renier could not see seated by a window.
“Why would you come here? Idiot. They let you go so they could follow!” Renier heard an older man’s voice.
“I wasn’t followed,” answered the thief in his defense, “I made sure. I went through the bazaar and doubled back several times to ensure no one was behind me.”
“Where are the others?”
“They went back to the warehouse.”
“Leave the city. Someone will meet you on the road and give you instructions.”
Renier thought about going in and capturing the man but decided against it. “I’ll wait and see who else visits this place.”
Renoir phased into the shadow as the thief exited.
“You can come out now,” said the man, “I can feel your presence.”
But Renier stayed in the shadow. He was sure no one could feel his presence while phased. Even the Keeper couldn’t do it, and he was at the peak of stage six.
The man waited and then exited the room. ‘I’ve seen that face before,’ thought Renier. He was a tall, stocky man with short black hair and a beard. His robes were elegant but not ostentatious, and his jewelry was modest. There was no sign of a shield or corruption, but his Mu shell had something.
Once the man had passed and was some distance away, Renier skimmed to a shadow on the roof and readied himself to wait comfortably. ‘Let’s see who shows up!’
But to his surprise, the man left the home and started to walk toward the bazaar. Renier followed not too far behind, jumping from roof to roof. The man entered a spice shop, and his signature disappeared. ‘Huh! Where did he go?’ Renier followed, but only an old merchant greeted him. He’d have to check more thoroughly during the night.