Dead Letter (7 page)

Elrin
looked at his remaining pile. “I’ll finish these first.”

Rimple
almost fell over himself. “No! We don’t keep our guests waiting.”
The innkeep hurried Elrin, hands dripping with suds, through the
door to the common room.

The Cog
and Wheel was a safe place for a happy turn in the evening. People
laughed and spent more shine here on a meal than Elrin earned in a
day. It was a good inn for good citizens of moderate esteem: a
place for guilders, not nameless workers or prentices. Elrin
recognised some of the regulars holed up in their booths, playing
cards and nursing their cups. The hearth was empty for the night
was warm enough. Even so, it was cooler out in the common room than
beside the heat of the cook fire in the kitchen. Elrin couldn’t
help but account for the remaining dishes and tankards yet to
clean.

Chelle
saw his face and winked. “I’m not finished with you yet,” she
teased, swishing by with an arm full of washing for him to do when
he got back to the kitchen.

Rimple
bustled Elrin to the table where the mages kept company. “Let me
introduce Elrin.”

Elrin
bowed as he was taught; left foot ahead of right, eyes to toes with
tipped forehead and proffered palm. The mage in green tipped her
own forehead, while the woman in blue merely inclined her head a
fraction, never retracting her harsh stare. Both mages had removed
their cowls indoors and Elrin noticed the blue robed sorceress had
brutal scarring across her scalp and face, all the way down her
neck. Her mouth pinched at the edge of the scar in a permanent wry
grin. She looked on him with the customary air of derision used
toward unguilded labour. To prevent awkward stares at the woman’s
horrendous scars, Elrin averted his attention to address the
sorceress in green. “How can I be of help?”

The
green robed sorceress appraised Elrin with the brevity of a
decisive mind and raised her eyebrows to Rimple in an open
question.

“
Of course,” apologised Rimple. “I will leave you to your
business.”

“
Thank you again, Innkeep,” replied the green
sorceress.

Rimple
toddled off, leaving Elrin feeling very out of place. He was a
nameless man in a greasy apron before two of the most powerful
guild in Calimska.

The
woman in green evaluated him with astute topaz eyes. “I am told you
are a messenger.”

“
That is not quite the truth, Mistress. I just labour where I
can. Errands mostly. I’m not a messenger true.”

“
A messenger by another name. Doesn’t the Courier Guild frown
on that?” sneered the scarred blonde sorceress.

“
They do, but I keep to the back streets as much as I can. I
don’t want to get in their way.”

“
Yet you’re happy to take their business?” argued the scarred
woman, set on goading him.

Elrin
wouldn’t rise to it; he did not want to start trouble with the
Order. “Have I caused offence? If so, I apologise.”

The
woman in green frowned at her friend. “Forgive my colleague.
There’s no problem, I only have a question. Might you have come
across a Runner Rix on your … errands?”

Elrin
thought about it. “Like I said, I try and steer clear of the
couriers. Without ink of my own, I’m not worth an introduction to a
runner.”

“
Even so, is it not possible you have seen him? He once was of
the Order of Calim so his hands would be blacked out.”

“
I still wouldn’t know, Mistress. Guilded couriers wear
gloves. I’ll let you know if I spot a man such as you describe.
Though, you would do better to enquire with the Postmaster across
from the Salt Road Stables.”

“
Of course, gloves.” The sorceress looked lost. Her eyes had a
sad emptiness, the same look he saw in his mother’s eyes. “My
questions must seem odd.”

“
That’s not for me to say.” Elrin bowed again, feeling
uncomfortable. “Is there anything else I can help with?”

“
No. That is all.” The sorceress pulled a silver tab from her
purse and offered it to Elrin.

Elrin’s
eyes widened. “I can’t accept that, Mistress. You offer too much,
for I haven’t done anything of value.”

The
woman pushed it into his palm. Her tattooed fingers folded his own
around the silver piece. Her touch made his digits buzz and when he
went to open his hand to refuse the money again, he found his
fingers locked tight around the gift. “Consider it an advance for
bringing me any information. Anything at all.”

“
Thank you, Mistress.”

Two
untouched plates of delicious food lay before the unoccupied seats
of the two other mages Rimple had spoken about. The loaded meals
made Elrin swallow in hunger. Rimple must have been basting Cook
with compliments for reasons of his own.

“
Did your companions not like their dinner?” asked Elrin.
“Have they retired already? If it wasn’t to their taste, I can
organise an alternative and get Chelle to take it to their
rooms.”

“
That won’t be necessary,” said the blue robed mage, piercing
him with eyes of acid. “They have retired for evening meditations.
We shall take up their meals. They are always ravenous afterwards.
Now leave us. Return to your
labour
.”

Elrin
did as she said, bowing and nodding his thanks to the kind
sorceress in green. He was able to open his fingers on the way back
to slip the silver tab into his purse, never fearing it wouldn’t
fit. It was very roomy in there. He took to the dishes with renewed
determination, thankful for the simple task the sorceress had set
and the pay he had pocketed. Cook gave him a wink and spent the
rest of the evening joking about his new-found magical love
whenever Chelle delivered a batch of dirty plates. To Elrin’s
delight, she placed them on the bench as he had asked and offered a
whole copper if he’d tell her what the sorceresses were up
to.

Elrin
had nothing to hide, but he’d been paid to help, not make money
from gossip. “Tell you what, Chelle. You keep that copper and I’ll
pay you the same if you or any of the girls hear tell of a courier
called Rix. You’ve got a better chance than I do. He’s got mage
tattoos marred on his hands.”

Chelle
shook her finger at Elrin. “Why should I bother taking such
information to you? What say I go straight to them if I find out
about this fella?”

“
I don’t mind. As long as the information helps her find the
man then all is well, isn’t it?”

“
You’re too soft. Why care for them? For certain, their lofty
selves don’t care for us.”

“
She’s lost someone. If I can help her find him then more the
better. If you’d lost someone close to you, wouldn’t you do
anything to get them back?”

“
Oh, I see. This about your old lost pa again is
it?”

“
Pound salt, Chelle. What if it is?”

“
When is it not, I suppose?”

“
Sod off, let the man work!” called Cook, as he tossed a stale
bread roll in her direction. Unfortunately, it missed and Chelle
sauntered away, smiling. Elrin imagined she kept a tally of how
many times she had got a rise from him. He guessed it was quite a
number.

Dwelling
on the cruelties dealt by the sweet lips of Chelle was a waste of
his energy. He thought instead of the kind mage and the silver
blessing she had given him. He thought of all she must have learned
from the magnificent depository of knowledge held in the Great
Library. Such a joy it must be to wield magic. Such a pleasure to
have time to read all day long.

By the
time the young man had finished the night’s work, his body was
tired, but his mind was awash with arcane fantasies. His home
wasn’t far up Flint Street and the night air cooled the sweat of
the long day. Candlelight fortified the second floor window and he
saw his mother’s silhouette walk by the window. The stairs up to
their small flat allowed him to announce his coming with each
footfall. He tried to be as conspicuous as possible, so as not to
startle his mother. Before he could fetch his key, the door opened
and Elrin was greeted by his mother’s loving eyes and warm
embrace.

“
Oh, you’re drenched in sweat. Come on in before you get a
chill.”

“
It’s almost dragon season, Mother. There is no chill to
catch.”

Sitting
at the living room table was a man robed in grey. “How was your
day, young sir?”

“
Long, Herder Kleith. Very long.” Elrin gave his mother a
quick look, trying to discern if it was a good day or one of her
bad days. His mother’s eyes answered with a glint of gaiety rarely
seen and sorely missed. Elrin’s heart ached knowing it would be
short-lived. Her good spirits would be snuffed by damp melancholia
before the new day’s egg was boiled. If they had an egg to
breakfast on, that is. “Has your day been … taxing?”

Herder
Kleith took Elrin’s meaning and answered in a code they had
established over the years regarding his mother’s state of mind.
“Actually today has been a bright one. A day for thanks. Your
mother and I have been talking of the future.”

This is
where it would all crumble into the five hells. Elrin averted his
eyes from Kleith and his mother, bracing for the news he had been
dreading. “That sounds ominous,” said Elrin, removing his boots and
placing them by the door.

Elrin’s Mother stood behind the priest of Nathis and rested
her hand on his shoulder. “Kleith asked me to … asked
us
to join him at the
Gold Gate Market for the Surrender Moon. We’ll take in the air and
join the singing and dancing. The young men will be courting and
you’re sure to catch yourself a dance or ten. You dance so well.
Wouldn’t that be nice?”

Thank
the gods! Kleith hadn’t proposed. “That’s more than nice. Kleith,
you are very generous to offer us an invitation.”

“
Won’t this be lovely! Just like when …” Her eyes drew distant
and a tear took to her cheek. She removed her hand from the
Kleith’s shoulder and walked to her son.

“
Like when Elrin was a boy, Penellonine?” suggested Kleith,
trying to steer the conversation away from the inevitable memory of
her lost love, Elrin’s father.

“
Yes … when he was a boy, that is what I was thinking.”
Elrin’s mother touched his cheek. “Though you are no such boy any
longer; strong and capable and working so hard. He works hard,
doesn’t he, Kleith?”

“
Yes. Yes, he does.”

“
Oh! He’d make such a fine guildsman. Who could deny
him?”

She was
insanely hopeful that a guild would consider her nameless son. For
his mother it was either hope without reason or dreadful melancholy
because of his father’s absence. Elrin hated the thought that he
preferred the later. Guild law was explicit and immovable and
bringing up such delirious nonsense infuriated him. Only the Order
of Calim took on the nameless, and only if they were gifted. He
couldn’t magic a bean to bounce — as much as he had tried. It was
easy for the famous Bardess Penellonine to imagine greatness upon
him, but he would never amount to what his mother wished for.
“Please excuse me. I must wash.”

Elrin
retreated behind a curtain in the tiny kitchen and disrobed. The
cool water in the washbasin soothed his aching muscles. He wet down
his olive skin and lathered just enough soap to clean the grime of
a day’s running and the grease of Cook’s kitchen from his body. He
scrubbed his clothes in the sudsy water that remained, wrung them
out and hung them over a drying rack. After drying off with a small
cloth, he dabbed himself with scented oil of sandalwood and cloves.
From the same rack he donned the shirt and trousers he had washed
the day before and emerged from behind the curtain, hopeful that
the conversation would turn to less sensitive subjects.

“
Would you like tea?” asked his mother, playing the hostess.
Tea was better than a spell of despondence.

“
I would, but I’ll have it in my room. I want to get some
reading done before sleep takes me.”

“
Such a scholar, isn’t he, Kleith?”

“
A finer reader than most. How are you going with that onerous
tome? I found it too tiresome to absorb. I’ll leave the mechanics
of trade to the Merchant Guild. I’m better suited to more spiritual
prose.”

“
I’m almost finished. It is a bit dry, but there are a good
number of case studies that support the work and his premise for
improved governance through public support is
refreshing.”

“
I never got that far.”

“
I stayed up a little late last night, since trade was slow at
the Cog and Wheel.”

“
Would you make a summary for me?” asked the
Herder.

“
I’m out of paper and haven’t had the shine to get any more,”
said Elrin, feeling ashamed he couldn’t help Kleith.

“
Nonsense. Don’t you go and waste your hard earned shine on
that. I’ve plenty for you. I also have more errands for you
tomorrow. Come down before first bell and you can pick up what you
need for the summary.”

“
I’m close to the end of the ink pot too,” admitted
Elrin.