"Trade licences? You'll need to speak with the Lord's steward, Tarias. He's new on the job, so I've not yet dealt with him myself, but he can't be worse than the last ones we've had."
Ameren was only partly listening to Holmwood's conversation with the other merchant. They'd arrived in Linhir a couple of hours earlier and still only seen a small fraction of the city. With its tall buildings made out of white stone and lined with massive windows of stained glass, its streets paved with large, decorative slabs of stone, its well-maintained gardens filling the air with the sweet scent of countless different flowers, its great statues, fountains, and works of art everywhere you looked, the second largest city in southern Gondor made the town of Bree look like a pair of rundown huts squashed together in a puddle of muck in comparison.
And the people here are something else as well.
A handsome young man moving through the busy market had caught her eye, not because he stood out in the crowds, quite the opposite, dressed in colourful silks and a fur trimmed half-cape he looked like any of the other upper class citizens there. But unlike them he didn't have an air of self-entitlement about him, walking through the crowds smoothly without getting in the way of anyone or bumping into them. A smile tugged at the corners of Ameren's lips when she saw how the young man skillfully cut the purse of a nobleman with a quick flick of his knife, both hidden within the folds of his garments the next second as he continued on his way, all of it done in stride without slowing down.
Impressive. No wonder Lee always pushed me for perfection, when this was the intended playing field.
"Branson, what do you think, shall we try to find this steward today?" said Havaldr when he'd finished speaking with the merchant and they wandered along the stalls and shops. The sun had started to set and lanterns were being lit all around, bathing the large square in soft, orange light.
"I reckon it's getting a bit late, and in a city this size we'll be lucky to find a tavern before nightfall," said Ameren in Branson's dry tone, keeping half a step behind her employer with her left hand casually resting on the hilt of her sword. "Tomorrow seems like the better time for finding city offic-... Hang on."
A section of a wall plastered with notices had drawn her attention, among the news and propaganda a couple of wanted posters stood out. Ameren frowned at the crude likeness of Havaldr staring back at her, younger, cleanshaved, blond, and with a dark expression much like the one his alias Holmwood was wearing now as he stopped beside her.
"Don't take it down," mumbled Ameren silently, her eyes darting over the lines of text below the drawing.
Treason, murder, theft, assault... the list goes on. 1 750 silvers as a reward, a small fortune.
"Clever, very clever."
She flicked her gaze to the near identical poster next to it.
Same crimes, same bounty, different face and name. Mendel.
"I know that man," whispered Havaldr.
"I thought you might, but we musn't speak of it here."
"Then let us quickly find a tavern."
Havaldr was still anxious when they stepped inside the inn, but seemed to grow more at ease when they were met by soft music and a cosy interior, and as he talked to the pretty barmaid behind the counter he had slipped back under the guise of friendly and relatively carefree merchant. While they spoke of the price of a room and an upcoming banquet at the Lord's estate, Ameren listened in on a pair of officers of the guard, both of them quite drunk and gossiping like fish wives.
Sounds like the Marshal is quite the womaniser with a taste for highborn maidens. The noble and honourable ways of men with power...
But she kept listening, knowing that what may seem like a pointless stream of gossip can yield priceless information, even if it was rather unlikely. A habit she hadn't been able to shake after her training, and probably never would.
How much useless drivel have I listened in on over the years working in that tavern? Too much, that's for sure.
Ameren turned her attention back to Havaldr and the barmaid as the two officers started arguing about whose turn it was to buy a round, and followed the young man after he'd been handed a key. Heading up a staircase and then through the second door on the right lead them into a fancy room with richly decorated furniture and a stunning view of the city and the Lord's estate sitting prettily above it in all its white splendour.
"This is good, I'll be able to get in and out unnoticed," mumbled Ameren as she inspected the window and peered down at the rooftops below.
They spoke briefly of what she had overheard in the tavern, and of the other man on the wanted posters, Mendel. He was a refugee from Harondor, a lutist who had played with Havaldr at court, and probably the only other witness still alive.
"It's worth looking into his whereabouts, should he remain in the city. Three years in hiding is a long time, though, and you musn't underestimate what desperate men are willing to do. Caution first in this, always," said Ameren, feeling that she had to repeat it all too often. "Busy night ahead on my part. I'll try to be back before dawn."
With that she silently opened the window and climbed out, sliding down along the wall onto the roof and was then gone from sight a moment later.
Midnight, and Ameren was sitting crouched in the shadows of a small spire, her back pressed against the cold stone as she studied the scene below. A trio of bloodied drunkards were being hauled into the fortified prison by a group of guardsmen, shouting profanities at one another and struggling against the men restraining them. She frowned behind the mask while eyeing the building.
Never tried getting into anything quite like this before, but there's nothing for it. Should be glad I'm not trying to get someone out of it, I suppose.
The bounty on Havaldr troubled her. It had stated that he and Mendel were part of a larger group of criminals who had been at large for the past three years, wanted for all sorts of crimes. But other than the most recent posters, a pair of which she'd taken down and now kept tucked away in a pocket, she'd been able to find very little. Men who wanted to find them and bring them in for the bounty, plenty of them, but no actual information. If there were more clues to be found, they'd be in the warden's office.
It's a damn good thing that the Gondorians like their buildings pretty.
There was a large, stained glass window on the side of the building facing the street, no doubt leading to said office. Ameren had gone around the prison twice and found nothing but barred slits in the stone and a pair of heavy doors, neither of which she'd fancy trying her luck with tonight, so the front window would have to do. Unfortunately it was in plain view of the guardsmen at the main gate, all four of them.
And with that armour I have no chance taking them on without one raising the alarm.
She glared at their shiny breastplates and their halberds.
Or impaling me.
Still, there were plenty of other ways to deal with them, all she needed to do was recruit a bit of help. Slightly drunk help in dresses that showed far too much skin, even for a warm night like this one. The group of whores she'd paid came stumbling down the street, giggling and passing a bottle of rum between them, and on that cue Ameren crept across the roof and down into the dark alley. She quickly darted into the shadows of the prison, crouched low as she made her way along the wall to the corner, peering around at the backs of the guardsmen. They had their hands full trying to keep the women off and getting them to move along, the whores giggling and laughing with delight at the little game, one even having stolen a shiny helmet and was donning it while posing suggestively.
Quickly now.
Ameren sprang up to the window and slipped a thin dagger between the frames, unhitching the two bolts and disappearing inside in a few moments, silently shutting it behind her. She could still hear the whores and the guardsmen outside, the latter becoming more agitated by the minute while she searched the office.
That's it!
She found just what she'd been looking for in the bottom drawer of the desk, tossed the stack of paper on top of it and took an empty parchment and a pen, scribbling down the information as fast as she could.
Everything indicates that Mendel is still in the city. And it looks like he and another surviving witness were trying to get in touch with the Lord too. Failed and lost his friend, or partner in crime, according to this. Executed after being questioned by Spymaster Seldorien seven months ago, after which the bounty was raised considerably on the remaining two. He's getting nervous.
An angry shout from the guardsmen let her know that time was up, and Ameren put the stack of paper back in the drawer, folded the parchment and pocketed it. Opening the window ever so slightly she peered outside, not waiting another second as she saw the whores tottering away under the angry scowls of the guardsmen, their backs still turned to her. The bolts were shut with soft clicks and she set off around the building as fast as she could, jumping up on top of a wall, running along it and from that climbing back to the rooftops.
Ameren couldn't keep herself from grinning behind the mask as she came to a halt in the shadow of the spire to catch her breath.
So this is what I've been missing out on while sitting around in Bree for the past ten years? Almost makes me wish I'd gone with Lee after all. Though I don't think she'd approve of the purpose to all this.
She glanced down at the guardsmen, now back at their posts and not suspecting a thing, almost feeling a bit proud of herself as she started moving down toward the docks. But then, just as the masts came into view beyond the roofs, Ameren saw something moving behind her out of the corner of her eye.
Damned, shouldn't have thought it would be that easy. Live and learn. Hopefully...
Whoever it was kept their distance, sticking to the shadows as they followed her.
Two of them, by the looks of it. And I have no chance of shaking them off, not in a city I've just arrived in. One option left, then. Makes it simple.
She lead them a bit further, waiting until she could slip out of their sight briefly and force them to come chasing after not to lose sight of her. Only she'd not continued ahead, but was just around the corner, back against the wall and a long, thin dagger in her right hand. The first of the two came running, his eyes widening in shock when Ameren clamped her left hand over his mouth to keep him silent and dug the dagger in between his ribs down to the hilt, pulling it free again as he gave a muffled gurgle and fell limp to the ground. The second was dispatched almost as quickly, having been right behind his ally and ended up stumbling over the corpse, giving Ameren the perfect opportunity to send him head first into the stone wall and then slitting his throat. The docks were not far away, but getting the corpses into the water unnoticed took more time than she would have liked, and as the current dragged the second deep down into the river and out to sea the sky was starting brighten, and she had to make her way across the city again and back to the inn.
Still, it's not all been in vain. Far from it. And some information is easier to acquire in the daylight, anyway.
