Chapter 4

Benor sat at the galley table on the barge, running his finger round the rim of an empty coffee mug and staring, unseeing, at the stove. His attempts to find any records of Nedlemar Thane, merchant, or indeed any Thanes, merchants or not, had come to nothing. He’d spent a full day in the Hall of Records and had found nothing. He’d even been through the copy of Lantram’s ‘The Sinecurists of Naain’ which Tallis kept on the sideboard and so lovingly updated. No Thane had been a Sinecurist in living memory.

The door opened and he glanced up. Shena came in. Seeing him on his own she asked, “Where’s Mutt?”

Benor laughed. “He’s got a new hobby. Taldor Vectkin showed him how to take the head of the gorlix he’d killed, and now he’s promised to show him how to preserve it. So he’ll be with Taldor at the moment.”

Shena grimaced. “Well he’s not having his head collection displayed on my shelves.”

Privately it wasn’t the heads that bothered Benor, it was the fact that he suspected that Taldor had given the boy the poniard to keep. Benor had handed sword, shield and poniard back when they got back to the Carlin family mansion. But Mutt had looked so longingly after the short sword as it was put away that he suspected the Urlan had weakened. Still, so long as he taught him how to use it. Someone untrained with a proper blade like that was as likely to injure themselves as hurt another. Still, Benor felt it might be politic to change the subject.

“I can find no official records of Nedlemar Thane.”

“None?”

“Not a thing.”

“Didn’t you say they traded up the coast?”

“That’s what we were told.”

“Well to the north Port Naain ends at the ‘Aegis of Naain’ which is a hostelry rather than a village. Up the coast the largest village is Three Streams. They might register there. But they will be registered somewhere. At some point they’ll have had to show registration papers to a Port Naain bureaucrat; that I can guarantee.”

Benor returned to running his finger round the rim of his mug.

After a while Shena said, “I do have another idea though.”

Benor looked up. “What?”

“One of the shore-combers brought in a packet of papers he’d found. They were in a weighted leather pouch and had been thrown over the side of a boat. They’re still readable.”

“I’m afraid you’ve lost me.”

“It’s simple Benor. I have an agreement to Gard Throm; he runs a small finance house. I give him first refusal on all papers I find, he provides me with information when I ask. He might know. I’ll drop the papers round and ask him.”

***

Shena sipped her coffee and watched Gard, neatly bearded and as plump as the ledgers that lined his office wall. He was fiddling with the papers. She held out her hand, “Well, do you want them?”

The financier gave her a brief smile, “They are interesting. The good ship ‘The Daughter of Port Naain’ sailed into the estuary with at least four manifests. Three of which they dropped over the side; all were different.”

“So what was going on?”

“The manifests all contain different quantities, but they do have a similar list of goods. I suspect that once they had seen which inspector they were getting they’d know how much it would cost to bribe him.”

“So can you use them?”

“I’d like to have them; we can compare them with a copy of the manifest they presented. That will be on display in the Customs House, with the inspector’s signature. We might well use the information to ‘guide’ this individual when he comes to inspect a cargo we have an interest in.”

“That is good, because I have a question for you in return; who is Nedlemar Thane?”

“You mean, apart from him also being Kefir Freely?”

Shena was too surprised by his comment to dissemble. “How in the forty-three hells did you know that?”

“Common knowledge; or at least it was from yesterday morning when it became part of the gossip of the merchant’s quarter.”

Shena sighed. “So what do you know about him other than being Kefir Freely?”

Gard reached for a ledger on a shelf behind him and ran his finger down the edge of the pages. He opened it up and grimaced. “It’s tricky.”

“Why, is he a valued customer? If he is I can understand you being circumspect.”

“It’s not that, Shena. It’s more complicated.”

Shena tried to sound surprised. “What can be complicated about telling me about Nedlemar Thane?”

“The basics are simple. His father has a business trading north along the coast and into the hinterland. It was slowly failing until Nedlemar joined it. Since then it’s picked up.”

“Sign of a shrewd businessman, surely.”

“Except that nobody has ever seen Nedlemar working up the coast, and careful investigation hasn’t shown them buying more stock to sell than they ever did.”

“A doubly impressive achievement then. So how’s he doing it?”

“He has an ear-ring in his right ear.”

Shena strove to sound unimpressed. “Not all that uncommon.”

This one is; it marks him out as one of the Exulted Purveyors of the Imperishable Wisdom.”

“Cannot say I’ve heard of them.”

“Almost certainly not; they’re a very small group, and they all seem to trade with mages, scholars and suchlike. The ear-ring has some sort of symbolism that is important to them.”

“So he was making his money from this trade, not from whatever his father was doing.”

Gard briskly closed the ledger. “Why join a body like that if you’re not going to exploit your membership?”

“But what do they sell these people.”

“Anything that the customer asks for.”

“Seems a pretty common attitude.”

Gard gave the impression he was discussing something distasteful. “These folk have ‘interesting’ demands. One week they might want a condemned criminal or the hand of a hanged man, next week a mummy or a virgin. Also they trade in books, herbs and the dried body-parts of various animals.”

“Nedlemar dealt in that sort of thing?”

“I never investigated too closely. The members of the Exulted Purveyors are prone to be precious about their privacy.”

Shena decided that there wasn’t much more Gard was willing to tell her. “So where does he live, where does he do business from?”

“That I can help you with. He’s based in Roskadil across the estuary from here. He has a place at the Saskadil edge of town, on the waterfront. He even has a shop there, ‘Thane and Thane’ over the door. I believe his wife runs it.”

Shena decided to do a little gentle fishing. “Thanks for that. I suppose his wife will have to manage the business because he must surely travel widely for stock?”

“Apparently not, I’ve been told that he’s never away for long. He must deal mainly through agents.”

***

Benor stood on the deck of the Roskadil ferry and watched the southern shoreline of the estuary draw nearer. Whilst he’d been in Port Naain for some time, he’d never crossed south to the twin villages of Roskadil or Saskadil. Looking at the approaching shoreline it struck him that they were larger than some towns he’d visited. Both spread out away from the river, with streets of quiet villas visible on the low hills to the south. Both had obviously grown to accommodate those whose business took them to Port Naain but who didn’t wish to live there. The saying locally was that they looked down their noses at Port Naain. But this meant they could still see to pick up any silver in the mud.

The ferry drew up at the pier and the crew lowered the bow to allow the passengers to leave. Benor allowed himself to be carried along by the tide of humanity, but once off the pier he made his way to the right and turned west for Saskadil.

The Saskadil road followed the river. There were a couple of piers, a length of wharf and then there was just the riverbank with an occasional boat house. On the other side of the road the houses were tight packed, terraces of small fisherman’s cottages and similar. Looking at them Benor sensed a modest prosperity. The whitewash was still white; the small gardens in front of them were carefully tended, with vegetables growing in neat rows. Even the gates were properly hung. Children played in the street, fished in the river and chased stray pets and domestic fowl.

He was perhaps ten minutes walk from the pier when he came across a larger house, set back from the terrace. It had two storeys, and above the door was a large wooden sign, ‘Elswick and Daughters.’ Below it was another sign in smaller lettering, ‘Barbers, Mercers and Nailors.’ But leaning against the wall, as if just removed, was another which read, ‘Thane and Thane, General Merchants.’ At the front of the building was a single storey extension, open at the front. Benor stepped inside. At the back of the extension a middle aged woman was sitting behind a counter that was covered in bales of cloth, with other bales stacked on shelves behind her. Beyond her Benor could see into a ground floor store room. On the left hand wall was another counter, haphazardly stacked with more than a score of different types of nails, all in roughly fashioned wooden boxes.

“Can I help?”

“I was rather hoping to meet Mister or Mistress Thane. I thought they owned this shop.”

“They did until yesterday.”

Benor shook his head in the manner of one who finds the world a confusing place. “This is beyond me I’m afraid. I was hoping to meet Mister Thane on a matter of business. It’s all terribly sudden.”

She nodded her assent, “Absolutely. It was late evening, the day before yesterday. You know we were in Red Buoy Terrace? Just up over by the Salt Market? Well he came in whilst we were eating supper, our Idrin was over and his three, and there was Hanin and her intended, and asked if we were still interested in this place. I’d often joked with his wife that if they ever thought of moving, I’d buy. Never thought they’d sell mind you, too good a site, what with the river and everything. Anyway when he asked, we said we were, so he named a price but said he needed the money the next day!”

“That’s awfully sudden,” Benor reiterated, in a tone he hoped would encourage her to further revelation. Behind him he heard the door open but he didn’t turn to see who it was lest this put Madam Elswick off her flow.

“It was, but when we saw as how he was serious we put our heads together, and what with a bit we’d got salted away and the money our daughters were putting to one side for when they got married, we just about raised it.”

“So have Mister and Mistress Thane left town then?” Benor asked.

“I should say so; she was off first thing yesterday morning with two drays, well loaded. He left first thing this morning with a smaller wagon with chests on it. Said he’d spend tonight at the Dilettante’s Repose, so that if anyone wanted him for business they could catch him there.”

A voice from behind Benor asked, “The Dilettante’s Repose, isn’t that the inn half way between here and Fluance.”

Benor turned to look at the newcomer. She was, he thought paradoxically, a remarkably nondescript woman, dressed in a long, dark grey skirt and dark grey jacket with white blouse. Benor was sure that in the merchant’s quarter she could pass unregarded.

“Yes, that’s the one; it’s a fair step from here.”

“And he’ll be leaving tomorrow morning?” Benor asked.

“Absolutely,” Madam Elswick said with utter certainty.

“Then I better be on my way then; thank you for your time Madam, and my best wishes for your new venture.” With this Benor bowed and left the shop. He stopped abruptly; there was a curricle outside the shop, the matched pair of horses standing patiently. There was no driver.

“It’s mine.”

It was the woman in grey again. “A nice outfit.” He felt the compliment was adequately vague, and could be held to describe the horses, the vehicle and horses, or even the lady and her clothing.

She stepped past him and climbed up onto the seat. As she did so the skirt rode up slightly over her boots, and Benor caught a glimpse of what might be a knife hilt. Looking down at him she asked, “You have business with Nedlemar Thane?”

“Yes, although it really pertains to him in his role as Kefir Freely.”

Her expression was of one patiently waiting for him to say more so Benor obliged. “I wish to buy back the soul of a friend.”

“We may be on similar errands. If you have no transport of your own I would be happy to offer you a lift.”

Benor gave a half bow. “I’d be grateful.”

He walked round the back of the vehicle and climbed up onto the seat next to her. She flicked the reins and the two horses started forward. Benor leaned against the back of the seat and tried to relax. Out of the corner of his eye he watched his companion. After careful examination he felt that she had gone to considerable efforts to appear nondescript, and that with a similar amount of effort she could be attractive. She had about her an air of quiet competence. She urged the horses into a trot as they passed the ferry pier and took the Fluance road.

They travelled a couple of miles in silence with Benor contemplating conversational gambits and abandoning them unused. Finally he said, “I feel I ought to introduce myself.”

“You’re Benor Dorfinngil.”

“I didn’t realise that I’d become so well known in Port Naain.”

“You haven’t. Rarlan the Gorlix told me about you.”

“You’ve talked to Rarlan?” Benor started to feel nervous.

“Well I certainly didn’t communicate by letter.”

Cautiously Benor asked, “How is Rarlan?” Somehow he felt he was dreading the answer.

“Oh, he’s still alive. He mentioned you and the berserk you were travelling with.”

“I hope he remembered us kindly.”

“I think that he’s decided that on balance you’ve helped him. Yes, you wiped out all his gorlix, but there again if you hadn’t been there, the assassin would have got him.”

“Surely the gorlix would have protected him against an assassin.”

“They only protect you if you’re willing to have them with you all the time. Even Rarlan wasn’t willing to suffer that.”

Benor decided to change the subject, “Did you go hunting for Rarlan then?”

She smiled grimly. “No he came looking for me. He realised that for so long as he was the only person who knew that Nedlemar Thane and Kefir Freely were the same person, it was in Thane’s interests to have him killed. When he discovered that Thane had hired an assassin, he felt he owed him nothing, and started telling everybody. He sought me out because he knew I was someone who would be interested. Not only that but I think he was getting tired of being accosted by people with a grudge who were looking for Freely.”

Benor sat silently fitting this information into his mental map of the events so far. She added, “Oh yes, and I’m Kara Halon.”

“I’m afraid you have the advantage of me.”

“Let’s just say I work in the repossession business. Therefore I’ve business with Master Thane.”

The conversation seemed to have petered out, they sat in silence again. The small farms that lined both sides of the road were now interspersed with small patches of woodland. The scenery was becoming wilder and less quaintly attractive. They’d travelled a few more miles before Benor asked, “So what are your plans when we get to the Dilettante’s Repose?”

“To the best of my knowledge Thane-Freely hasn’t met either of us.”

Sensing the question Benor said, “I cannot recall ever meeting him.”

“So we turn up at the inn and you book a double room. They’ll just assume I’m some middle aged professional woman taking her junior clerk for an erotic encounter. They’re probably used to it.”

“They are?” Realising that his tone might have sounded as if he were speculating on possibilities, he added hastily, “Scandalous”, in what he hoped were shocked tones.

She asked dryly, “You are the Benor Dorfinngil from Toelar aren’t you?”

“Well yes but I was just thinking of your reputation.”

“Don’t worry; if things go as I expect, neither of us will have a chance to use the bed.”