The Sword of Wisimir

Chapter 3: Contract (Part 1)

Jarno Herren hated wizards.

The others had gone back to the patrol house long ago, leaving him to speak with the Guild. Jarno watched the Magister's black carriage drive away and spat in the road. A few feet away, Kathryn the young blonde woman who had escorted him away from the dead body frowned.

"Sorry," he said.

Jarno Herren hated wizards, but not enough to risk his life making them hate him.

"So, you had something to tell us about the victim?" Kathryn asked.

"Only that we talked to the owner, Brejyt. Turns out he was a friend of the guest renting the room and came by to pick up his friend's things," Jarno said.

"Well you needn't worry," Kathryn replied. "The Magistry will deal with this now."

Jarno frowned. "Now, hang on—"

"You will be reimbursed for your time," she said, carrying on as if he hadn't spoken. "We know how burdened you hard working Watchman are and this will free you to deal with your other duties." Her eyes bored into his, making clear this wasn't a discussion.

"So, you're asking me to leave it?" Jarno asked.

"No Watchman, the Magister is relieving you of your concerns in this matter." Kathryn took out a small pouch and pressed it into his hands. Her fingers were cold as they scraped across his palm. For a moment, there was something in her eyes, a touch of fear? What was she frightened of?

"I understand," he said.

"Good," she replied. "Our people will handle the clean up here." She turned and walked away.

Jarno stared after her. There was definitely something not right about the exchange. Jarno opened the pouch and ten crowns fell into his palm. More money than he'd earn in a year. The choice to let it go was persuasive, but he couldn't shake the spark he'd seen in Kathryn's eyes.

He walked back down the road and turned right, angling around the tavern towards the front entrance. When he got within sight of the entrance he took a quick look around. No one seemed to be about, so he went up and knocked on the door.

"We're closed," a bitter women's voice answered.

"Brejyt, it's me, Jarno, I need to ask you something."

The door opened a crack and Brejyt's face appeared. "Be quick," she said.

"You said there were two men who went upstairs, that right?"

"Yes, Orri and his cousin, he said."

"And I need the name of the person who rented the room from you."

"Jack Von Drey."

---

"What do you want out of life, Urin?"

They were back in the swaying darkness of the carriage and Urin faced the Magister whose good humour had returned.

"I don't know," he replied hedging carefully.

"I think you do," Leel purred. "You're not overly ambitious and indeed, I would have said you were honest and career minded up until I dangled our little piece of larceny under your nose."

An image of the look Brenner had given him as he died, flashed into Urin's mind, dodging the questions might not be wise.

"I was content," he admitted. "But..."

"Come on, out with it."

"I want to be valued."

Magister Leel's smile spread wide. "Don't we all, my friend? Don't we all. I assure you, you are considered extremely valuable to me."