Sallis nodded at the stablehand, a young man only a little older than himself.
"Does Young Sir want the tack cleaning, too?" Kerran the stablehand looked at Sallis, his dark blue eyes calm.
"If Old Man can manage it, yes please," replied Sallis.
Kerran nodded. "I'll make sure the sylphs do it later."
"Sylphs?" Sallis blinked and realized the smell ticking his nostrils belonged to the sinabra, the sylphs' natural odor.
Glyder had a companion in another stall. From that horse's height, Sallis reckoned this was a workhorse, similar in size to Polless.
Kerran laughed. "Both the sylphs work out here in the stable; Ma won't have 'em inside the house. She prefers to employ my sisters in there."
"Who's this one?" Sallis jerked a thumb towards the other animal, a dark chestnut with a white stripe along the nose.
"That's Rence," replied Kerran. "Good carter; we rent him out most days we're not using him. At the moment, he earns more than we do."
Sallis nodded and patted the workhorse's nose. He glanced down at the animal's fetlocks and, sure enough, a skirt of hair surrounded each one.
"When I've spoken with Ulena, I'll come and give you a hand with the tack," promised Sallis.
"No need," replied Kerran. "The sylphs will look after it."
***
Ulena eyed her new lodger up and down. "Not much to you," she said, pushing light brown hair out of gray eyes. "Tall, but no meat on those bones."
"Does that mean you're going to fatten me up?" asked Sallis with a grin. "Mother has tried that for years."
"Depends how much you pay," smiled Ulena. "Sandev tells me you are Gifted."
"Is that a problem?"
"Not for me." Ulena’s smile widened. "I've ignored the Gifted for many years; they don't harm you unless you harm them. But Sandev said you're different."
"She did? Knows a lot, even for another of the Gifted."
"And you know a lot less," laughed Ulena. "Didn't your teacher tell you about Sandev?"
"My teacher dropped me when my Gift didn't work out the way he expected." Sallis tried to keep bitterness out of his voice and almost succeeded.
"Did he mention the Ten?"
Sallis wracked his memory. "He mentioned something about them," he replied, "but not a lot."
"Well, Sandev's more than just 'another of the Gifted'; she's one of them."
"I see." Sallis felt hollow inside. One of the Ten and he hadn't realized. Nothing stood out with Sandev, she hardly seemed older than himself... except she had a sylph aged enough to have tufts of hair on her earpoints. If Sandev was one of the Ten, she was ancient.
And he had been cheeky to her! No wonder Geyn had been grumpy; sylphs were always defensive when people criticized their owners. Not even Lyssan tolerated that, despite her soft spot for Sallis.
"You are shocked?" Ulena laughed again. "Many people are, especially those who see a silly and naive young girl. I expect you were rude to her, or perhaps just playfully cheeky? You got away with it this time, perhaps next time. But one time you will do this and - wham! - Sandev will bite you."
"Thank you for the warning."
Ulena smiled and turned to a younger version of herself who now joined them. "Pelim, my youngest daughter," she said. "Now you help young Sallis to his room. And you can stop making those eyes right now, he's not here for a marriage."
Sallis grinned. He decided he rather liked this lodging house, with its friendly yet shrewd owner. And her youngest daughter was rather pretty...
***
Sallis worked polish into the nearly-black leather. He worked quickly and without fuss. Saddle, girth strap, crupper, bridle. An infertile sylph sat cross-legged beside him, rubbing metal polish on brasses belonging to Rence. The carthorse looked over his stall door at the sylph, showing the same intelligence Sallis remembered from Polless.
"So you're Gifted then," said Kerran, after checking the feeders were full.
The sylph lifted her head from the brasses and blinked at Sallis.
"Does everybody know?" demanded Sallis.
"Once I've told my mates, yes," grinned Kerran. "But you're not here to be Sandev's apprentice, else you'd be in her villa."
"Well, some people think I'm here to join the City Guard," replied Sallis, hesitantly.
"But you're not," added Kerran, perceptively.
"That's right, I don't think a uniform and me go together too well," shrugged Sallis. "I'm far too independent for that."
Kerran shrugged. "Sometimes independence and an empty belly sleep together," he said.
The sylph nodded at this wisdom, but said nothing.
"So do independence and money," retorted Sallis.
"Why are you here?"
Sallis smiled again. "I'm getting tired of telling people," he replied. "I came here to be a bounty hunter."
Kerran's dark blue eyes hardly flickered. Sallis was beginning to realize this young man was nearly always calm. "What do you think, Errim? Speak freely."
The sylph gave a slow blink and her earpoints twitched. "The Guard has more honor," she said, before falling back into comfortable silence.
"She never says much," said Kerran, ruffling Errim's hair affectionately and tickling one of her earpoints.
"The Guard can have as much honor as it likes," said Sallis, watching the infertile smile in pleasure at the attention, "but I'm here to make money and serve justice." He could not recall Lyssan having her earpoints tickled.
"Already plenty of bounty hunters here," said the stablehand. "And all are more interested in money rather than justice."
"So people keep telling me," said Sallis. "I intend to be different. And much, much better."
"Reckon you can be?" Kerran's attention returned to his polishing as Sallis's dark eyes flashed.
"From what I've seen so far, yes." Sallis smiled again.
Errim blinked and said nothing.
***
Chapter 7 - The Commission
Despite Sallis's brave words, nothing quite prepared him for the next morning.
After enjoying a large breakfast, Sallis left the lodging house, where Oston waited outside the front door.
"Been here at least an hour," grumped the stout man, cracking his knuckles. "Thought you country boys got up in the middle of the night."
"You're waiting for me?"
"Yes. Someone wants to see you. And I mean Someone. Looks like you've got your wish granted, farm boy."
Sallis smiled to himself. "How's your wrist?" he asked.
"No better for the asking," grunted Oston.
"Hard feelings?"
"You bet." Oston's eyes glittered. "Next time, you'll be kicked all around the practice field."
Sallis grinned. "I look forward to our next meeting there," he replied, "but it won't be me getting kicked about."
Oston grunted again.
"Who wants to see me this time?" asked Sallis. "Captain of the Guard? Will he try to recruit me too?"
"Higher than him," replied Oston. "Much higher."
***
Sallis stared at the building and Oston smiled. A square fronted it, with an occasional beggar dotted about, and a disused warehouse stood almost beside it.
"Coronation Building," said Oston. "Home to the Senate and Supreme Council. And where Emperors are crowned."
"Marka has no Emperor," muttered Sallis.
"Marka has no Emperor for now," corrected Oston. "They will come again, they always do."
Sallis stared as he followed Oston up the wide steps and into the building, delightfully cool after the strong sunshine outside. Guards acknowledged Oston and eyed Sallis curiously, perhaps wondering why such a young man carried a sword. Sylphs scurrying on errands threw wary glances his way, either because of the sword or because they had sensed the Gift.
Sallis ignored the sylphs and stared at the obvious wealth now surrounding him. It made the Papan's palace in Leynx appear tawdry and cheap.
"This wa
y," said Oston, leading Sallis away from large doors. "The offices are along here. Let's hope Melda is on an errand somewhere."
Sallis was taken through corridors and to a door. Oston rapped with his knuckles on faded gilt lettering suggesting this office belonged to Nelsten Jasin Olfank.
"Come," called a voice from inside.
Oston opened the door and a nod suggested Sallis might like to step through. Sallis looked over his shoulder in surprise as Oston stayed outside. His attention returned to the office and its occupant.
Oak-paneling stretched from floor to ceiling and shelves of books covered one wall, easily more books than even Elvallon possessed. A table with a chair on either side, and that was it. No paintings hung on the walls and there were no decorations to be seen. Papers were piled high on the desk.
An average-looking man sat on the far side of the desk, perhaps in his middle thirties. Dark blue eyes regarded Sallis expressionlessly and medium brown hair crowned a face that was surprisingly unlined.
"Good morning," said the man. "I am Olista Dovna Allert, Senator with special responsibility for the Guard. And you are Sallis ti Ath, newly come to Marka."
"I am." Sallis narrowed his eyes. "That isn't the name on the door."
Olista chuckled. "Good; you are observant. Senator Nelsten is some three centuries dead; we stopped putting our names on doors many years ago."
"Why am I here?" demanded Sallis. "Don't say you want me to join the Guard."
Olista compressed his lips and nodded towards Sallis's sword. "They tell me you're very good with that," he said. "I was the last Blade Grandmaster in the Guard; you could be the next."
"No doubt." Sallis refused to be intimidated. "If I joined, that is."
"They tell me you want to be a bounty hunter," continued Olista, as if Sallis had not spoken. "We already have plenty in Marka and need no more."
"You haven't got one like me."
Olista pursed his lips and tilted his head quickly to the left and back again. "Easy for you to say."
"Folk say bounty hunters are more interested in bounty than justice," said Sallis.
"We do." Olista interlaced his fingers and leaned forward, elbows resting on his desk. "Myself included."
"All right." Sallis had given this some thought overnight. "Here's my offer, to prove I am different."
Olista spread his hands. "I'm listening."
"I catch a criminal, and you pay me when he is convicted, not when I bring him in. Does that help you believe I am about justice rather than bounty?"
Surprise and respect stirred in those dark blue eyes. "Now that is different," admitted Olista. He shuffled some papers on the desk before him. "I've been speaking with Sandev."
"Then you'll know I'm Gifted," said Sallis.
A smile ghosted across Olista's features. "Yes," he replied.
"That's why you let me keep my sword, even here?"
"From what Sandev told me, you have no need of a sword to kill. Surrendering your weapon would not save me, if you intended to take my life. But I feel I'm quite safe from you."
Sallis shifted on his feet, uncomfortable that a woman he had met once knew so much about him. "What else did Sandev have to say?"
"That you have earned yourself an excellent reputation on Re Annan," continued Olista, without glancing at the papers. "Several thieves caught, escapees returned to custody, and prisoners treated with dignity. Surprising in one so young."
"A lot of it is thanks to the Gift," he muttered.
"Which is a tool to be used like any other," murmured Olista.
Sallis's eyes flashed. "Are you referring to the Gift, or me?"
Olista's eyes were hard and expressionless. "Both, Sallis ti Ath," he replied. "Both."
Sallis looked to one side.
"The Guard has so far failed to bring in our man, and the numerous bounty hunters in the city have proved themselves equally incompetent. Given your generous offer regarding payment and conviction, I'm prepared to give you a chance."
Sallis's heart leapt. "You want me to find him?" he asked.
"Remember that he plunders from the wealthy of this city. The reward for his capture increases every time he is successful, which may explain some of your fellow bounty hunters' ineptitude. But he has branched out into murder."
"I heard," replied Sallis. "Some senator or other."
"Senator Jarron Lebstan. I suspect this is an opportunistic murder; the man happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. Disturbed the thief perhaps."
Sallis nodded. "I'll be careful."
"I'm glad to hear it." This time, Olista did smile. He pushed a sealed parchment across the table, its creamy appearance marred only by a blob of black sealing wax. "Your commission. Bring us this man to face justice, Sallis ti Ath, and Marka's gratitude shall be yours."
***
Chapter 8 - The Hunt Begins
Olista held Jarron Lebstan's widow in conversation while Guardsman Crallin showed Sallis to the late Senator's study, where the body had been found.
Some bookcases showed damage, and many books had dented or partially torn spines. The desk drawers had been forced open, despite someone's best efforts to tidy away the tell-tale splinters. Only one bookcase looked untouched and, by resting his head against the wall and looking at its neighbor, Sallis saw a gap that must lead to a concealed storage area. Intended to be secret and doubtless the thief's target. Why else vandalize books?
Sallis looked around the doorway and gently touched the repaired wood where the thief had forced his way in. He could not see outside, but he thought the stables were on the far side of the house from here.
"Everything's clean," muttered Sallis. "Nothing here."
Crallin gave his companion a look, part surprise and part resentment.
"Of course not," he replied, "the thief took it all."
Sallis shook his head. He had no interest in the missing valuables. "What was used to kill him?"
"Something sharp is all we know," replied Crallin. "Likely a long dagger or a short-sword."
"Did the Senator have a weapon on him the thief might have used?" pressed Sallis.
Crallin shrugged. "The boys who looked the place over at the time said the murderer probably brought it with him."
Sallis grunted. Unless out and out opportunists, thieves usually brought tools for breaking into places, but this thief had laid plans and targeted his victims carefully.
The intruder had no need to carry a sword or dagger. If the unfortunate Jarron had disturbed the thief, Sallis suspected the criminal was more likely to have used a blunt object to silence him. But if the thief did carry a blade, he would have taken it away with him.
Sallis released the Gift and wandered all around the room, hoping to find something to hint at the thief's presence. Anything he could use.
He found nothing.
"Learning anything useful?" There was a definite edge of sarcasm in Crallin's tone.
"You don't like me," said Sallis, carefully. "Why?"
"I don't like bounty hunters," replied Crallin. "Have you found anything?"
Sallis shook his head. "I'd like to have a word with the widow."
"Why?"
Sallis ignored Crallin's question and left the study, rejoining Olista in the hallway. The woman stood beside him, with the dark blue eyes and dark hair Sallis now associated with Marka, watching the goings-on with an air of resentment. A smartly dressed infertile sylph poked her head around the door, took one look at Sallis and quickly withdrew again.
"This is Sallis ti Ath," said Olista, "a new bounty hunter in Marka. Sallis, this is Pusila, wife to the late Senator Jarron."
Sallis inclined his head. "Mistress."
"He looks very young," said Pusila.
"I have fifteen years, Mistress," replied Sallis. "If I may, one or two questions?"
Pusila sniffed. "We have already gone through this with the City Guard."
Sallis grinned. "Who tend not to cooperate with bounty hunter
s, so we must ask our own questions. On the night of the theft, who was here? Apart from the thief, obviously."
"Nobody," replied Pusila. "Jarron worked late in the Senate and I was visiting Nadya, my daughter."
Her lips quivered and Olista patted her arm in commiseration.
"And the sylphs?" pressed Sallis. "Surely they were here?"
"Now we... I... have no horses, the house sylphs live in the stable. And though they work hard during the day, they enjoy evenings free, so none would actually be inside the house."
"That's an unusual sleeping arrangement for house sylphs," smiled Sallis. "Most people have them close to hand."
"I've never liked them in the house," replied Pusila. "But we only had the stable converted recently. A few weeks."
"Is the study as you found it?" asked Sallis.
"No, the sylphs have tidied it since... since the killing."
"Did Jarron have an armory?" Sallis changed tack.
"Of course, most gentlemen's houses do," Pusila nodded. "This way."
Sallis followed the widow down stone steps, where she produced some keys and unlocked a barred door. A whetstone and sword-rack stood within, bolted firmly to the ground.
Sallis gave a low whistle. "Some collection," he remarked.
There were perhaps eight swords and twelve long daggers in the rack.
"I keep the only key," said Pusila. "Even Jarron needs to ask for it when he comes here to think. Used to come." She sounded close to tears. "I brought my husband's sword down here when I returned from Nadya's. This one."
Sallis took the sword from her and he inspected it carefully. He allowed the Gift to flow, but got nothing in return. The dead could not be followed, so their possessions never showed the way. He touched the leaping stag etched onto the blade.
"Good steel," he remarked.
"Jarron regretted never buying Pelirno steel."
"Do they all have this etching?" asked Sallis.
"The leaping stag is... was... my husband's crest. Yes."
"And I see he kept them all sharp. Or did the sylphs look after that task?"
Pusila forced a laugh. "Jarron looked after the blades. Said he could think down here, without distractions. He spent hours sharpening those blades."
Sallis nodded and glanced where the iron bars fixed into the floor and ceiling. He inspected the lock and then turned his attention back to the blades.
He felt Olista watching as he took one of the long daggers and peered along the blade. Then the next, and the next. He paused longer over one and ran a thumb over the very end.