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Turn 123

Meanwhile, aboard ship, "Shall we investigate, captain?" Pham inquires, as another cloudless storm shakes the valley walls.
    * * *
     "Aye, there's work to be had in Toll, lad. Mind you, s'not the safest of places, you do hear stories these days, but I say that them as pay no heed to foolish words and keep themselfs well indoors of a night have naught to worry for, including bogeymen crawling out of the walls." He gives a gruff snort of amused disdain. "His Lordship's always looking for men, my younger boy is up to fort-way, got a horse now and wears more steel than I ever used to see in a week." He gives his slightly built visitor an uncertain look, clearly trying the idea on for size and questioning the fit. "Or, have ye any sort of trade? Pays powerful well for smiths and the like.... That Murphen as runs the Victor shop, he just had a clerk run off him last week, turned out the lad was helping himself from the till, if you can believe that. It's not like it was when I was a boy, seems there's naught to be trusted any more."
    "I c'n ride a horse all right, I guess," he says dubiously, "an' shoot for huntin', but me old dad always said them's happiest that's furthest from th' lordsmen."
    Ibn Fadil learns that Victor & Sons ships have been coming to Highfort for five years now, that the ship arrives soon after the snow melts, and it has become something of a holiday occasion for Toll and those surrounding communities to which word has spread. Their storekeeper is an offworlder and, according to Gemmert's hints, a bit over-fond of the bottle. It's all been very good for the town, no doubt about that; there's more money in Toll than ever before. And if you believe half of what you hear -- which he doesn't, of course -- more to come this year than ever.
    For his part, the spy lets it be known that he's mostly kept house for his dad and brother since their mam died, and could look after horses or goats all right; and he's left home, despite his inherited mistrust of authority, because - not to speak ill of kinfolk - his brother isn't the generous sort.
    Asking a few more questions about the Victor business, it's clear that Gemmert is rather proud of his town's mark of distinction, quite aside from the business it brings him; there's more traffic in the summer, and more soldiers even in the winter, and they do need to eat and drink. But though he doesn't say anything overtly, he also seems aware on some level that this prosperity has come at a price. He provides a couple more leads on places that might be able to use a boy to help out.
    During the conversation, a couple of guardsmen stomp in and search the place, but since both of the men there have both eyes they don't pay them much attention. It seems a one-eyed, one-handed man has assaulted someone in the Artificer's Guild. Gemmert clearly interprets this event as more of the world going to seed.
    After taking his leave of the man, ibn Fadil continues his wandering, trying to keep track of the disturbance without getting close enough to be caught up in it while he looks for good places to hide or escape.
    * * *
    Emmett glances back at the young cleric. "Yes. Remember, Ibn Fadil laid out the rough plan of the Distraction landing and pretending to be a Victor and Sons ship, with our very own Hextorian Cleric on board? Well, that little show in there didn't do anything to damage that, since they have no reason to suspect I'm an offworlder. In some ways it helped it, because now they'll be looking to get some extra offworld help thinking that some Artificers Inquisition has blown their cover."
    "Umm, sorry. I don't remember," Is the response. "Perhaps I was in my cabin at the time. Thanks, it makes more sense now."
    "Best I could do under the circumstances. Still we need to look different, then pick off one of their hunters. We did learn that the old masters are dead, and that they probably did the same to the other priests. We also learned that you shouldn't look like a priest around these parts, and that you definitely shouldn't look like a priest on the Distraction. So it wasn't a loss." The half man grins. "Plus, now they're feeling hunted, and just a little scared. All good."
    The young cleric has no wish to join his lost colleagues in whatever sad end they had met and nods in agreement. "I suppose you're right." Pausing he quickly removes his outer robe, leaving him more exposed to the elements but less obviously religious. "You have coins to pay with then? I won't steal." The cold hits immediately and he wraps his arms around him trying to still the shivering. As they search for the required outlets he wonders if the other scouting party are having better luck than they.
    "Assuming the local lord isn't so arrogant he's changed the currency, yes - I have some change from the things I bought in the capitol, and given this world's central authority, I figure the coins have the High King on them everywhere." He nods at an establishment "This one ought to do. Keep that bundle wrapped up for later."
    The pair duck into the first clothier's shop they find. Not too long after that, the hue and cry goes up behind them.
    Looking back over his shoulder, having hastily pulled on the thick cloak they'd purchased for him, Lynden risks a quick glance to see if they have been spotted by the group of armed men gathering nearby. As Emmett steps forward from the shadows to join him Lynden checks that Emmett's disguise is in place before heading away from the search party.
    They are spotted almost at once as the men begin spreading out to search. "You there, hold!"
    Lynden casts the spell he had readied, and fog fountains up from the snow-covered ground, concealing the two of them -- for the moment, as the surprised man shouts again, alerting his fellows.
    

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© 2004 Rebecca J. Stevenson