Chapter 3: A Lead

The sun was just starting to set. Fen walked out of his home onto the dark streets of Unger. He was wearing his signature ratty cloak, but he had left his sword behind. It was too bulky, and Fen had learned long ago that there were times when it was more dangerous to be obviously armed than to simply carry a smaller weapon.

Four whole days had passed since the ledger was stolen, and Fen knew well that the lead would start to fade rapidly. The fact that he had been hired at all was evidence that the King’s men had already lost the trail, so he had to be mindful of his time as he prodded about the city. Time was already running out.

Fen discarded the information about the sigil, it was too cliche to be of any obvious meaning, and he could easily waste days looking down that path. He also discarded the lead of the King’s conflict with Kheltirm. That was also too obvious, if the information that Regis suspected was truly contained in there it would have been the first thing the King’s spies would have looked for.

Instead, Fen went drinking.

He went into a ratty little tavern not too far from the palace that was called The Guard’s Draught, though any who looked closely at the sign could see that the name had been modified somewhat recently. The Guard’s Trough was the name it was known by among the common folk, and you could still glimpse through the new layer of paint the picture of swine suckling at the teat of a crowned sow that had been carved into the wood.

In a nice little twist of irony the guards of the city were the only ones who didn’t know how derogatory Baus, the tavern’s owner, was to the government of Unger and those who enforced its edicts.

Fen walked in, and the barroom of the tavern was full, with people in almost every single seat. At least thirty of them were uniformed guards, and Fen guessed that many of the twenty plain clothed occupants were likely guards as well.

It was a shame, as this would have been a very nice place to grab a drink were it not crawling with guards.

It did provide Fen with an opportunity though, so he did one thing he knew would absolutely guarantee that a city guard would talk with you: he grabbed a drink, found an empty seat, and sat quietly minding his own business.

Just as Fen had guessed, one of the uniformed guards sitting nearby at the same table began to eye him suspiciously, and it was only a matter of minutes before he sidled over, shoving a couple others out of his way, and began to try to interrogate Fen.

“You’re new here, aren’t you?” The guard asked.

“Yup.” Fen said, raising his glass to the man. “Nice place.”

“It is a nice place.” There was real pride in his tone, hinting that he was one of the guards that didn’t understand the true nature of this establishment. “That’s why I’m wondering why you’re here. You’ve got that ratty cloak and I can practically smell that grimy hair of yours from all the way across the table. What’s a vagrant like you doing in our tavern?”

“Just sitting for a drink, then I’ll be on my way.”

“I think you should be on your way now.” The guard set his tankard heavily down on the table, sending a foamy wave over his hand as he stood to loom over Fen. “I’ll see you out.”

“Oi, Ollie, why are you bothering that guy?” Another uniformed guard belted out.

“I don’t like the look of him.” The guard in Fen’s face, apparently Ollie, answered.

“You know Baus doesn’t like it when you shout off paying customers.” The look in his eyes as he stepped over showed Fen that he was quite aware that Baus didn’t like them period. He sat down between Ollie and Fen. Ollie also sat down, though he looked glum at having been called out for his misbehavior.

“Hey, I’m Caelan,” the new guard proffered his hand, and Fen shook it.

“I’m Danny.” Fen answered.

“Sorry for Ollie, it’s been a rough time at work.”

“Oh, don’t I know just what that’s like.” Fen drank deeply before continuing. “Not in your line of work of course, but when things ain’t right at work they can’t be quite right anywhere else.”

Caelan nodded, settling in to his own drink and getting lost in his own thoughts for a while before picking the conversation back up. “So, Danny, what line of work you in?”

“I’m a hired hand over at the bank.”

“Guard?”

Fen nodded. “Nothing like the guarding you lot do, of course. I mostly just glower at people who look like they might be trouble. Though, with the way they’re running things I don’t know that I’ll be there for much longer.”

Caelan eyed him for a long moment, apparently noting Fen’s hard muscles hidden under his ratty cloak. “Have you ever thought about working for the city?”

“No.” Fen said. “I can’t say I have. Is it good?”

“It’s a great job, long hours and whatnot, but it feels good to help build up the city.”

“Yeah, until someone breaks into the palace.” Ollie butted in.

“That would never happen though.” Fen said with a laugh, embracing the strategy now that he’d been unable to hide the smile that popped up at his fortune. “Who would be stupid enough to bust into the palace itself?”

The table was awkward and silent between the three of them, and Fen made his laugh trail off. He looked at Caelan whose forced smile was the guiltiest thing he’d ever seen. “It doesn’t happen often.” The guard said.

“Oh.” Fen said.

“You still ought to look into hiring up with the guards, whatever stupid thing Ollie might say. It’s a good job.” With that he stood and left the tavern.

Silence fell over their little section of the table, and the awkwardness was obvious enough that nobody moved to fill the empty space in the bench between them. Fen let the silence hang over them, using it as a bludgeon, hoping that it would push Ollie to speak up for himself.

Minutes passed, and each of the men ordered another drink. Fen was just about to give up on this tactic when Ollie spoke up. “You might want to learn a bit more about what happens at the palace before you look into hiring on.”

“What do you mean?” Fen asked. “Break ins are that frequent?”

“No, no. Quite the opposite. They almost never happen, it’s just that more goes on there than most people let themselves see.”

Fen scrunched his brow, and his obvious confusion got Ollie to keep talking, leaning in to whisper conspiratorially to Fen. “There was a break in last week, and they’ve had us scouring the place high and low to find any evidence, but there is nothing. Some people say it was done by ghosts or wizards, but I’ve got a better explanation and nobody will listen.”

Fen leaned in, making it obvious that he would listen, and Ollie kept going. “Whoever did it must have had a key. It was an inside job.”

Fen hid his smile in his drink, running his hand through his hair and trying to act like he was gob smacked at what Ollie had just said. Really he was just surprised that his trick had worked on the first person he had tried it on, he had been prepared to be at this all night. “I don’t even know what to say.” Fen eventually said.

“Don’t say anything.” Ollie said, his brain catching up with the alcohol and realizing that he’d said too much. “Don’t tell anyone anything about what I told you, and probably also don’t hire on with the guards. It’s not a great time for it.”

“Thanks, you seem like real friend.” Fen said.

“I try.” Ollie turned back to his drink, the haunted look in his eyes making more sense now.

Fen drained the rest of his drink and then left the tavern. He finally let himself smile openly out in the street, his suspicion having been confirmed about the inside aspect of the job with very little effort.

Now for the bad news of that little revelation. He was going to have to break into the palace himself to get any further on his investigation.