the pair for a while, watching as they shopped for fresh vegetables in the lines of stalls that filled the open square. The day was bright and crisp, somewhat cooler than it had been the day before, but still the sun was warming to the lieutenant's skin as he kept pace with his quarry.
Vambran had tracked down Jithelle's mother easily enough from the instructions Kovrim provided him the night before, getting up early and making his way to the east side of the city, where the less affluent neighborhoods were. He had no trouble finding the small house, really an apartment on the second story of a rug merchant's shop, where Nimra Skolotti and her youngest daughter Mirolyn lived. Initially, he intended to just visit the woman directly, but then caution got the better of him, and he decided to wait. If he was being followed, or watched in some other way, perhaps it would be better not to draw undue attention to the grieving mother.
The mercenary did not have to wait long before Nimra and her daughter appeared on the street. The pair of them headed first to the bakery where they purchased a single small honeyed bun to split between the two of them, then they made their way to the market, nibbling at their breakfast and chatting softly as they strolled. Nimra maintained a steady grip on Mirolyn's arm. It took Vambran a few minutes to realize that Nimra was blind.
The mercenary watched as the two women examined some melons, Nimra picking up one then another, squeezing them with her hands and smelling them. They selected one and paid the merchant, then moved on, toward a stall that sold peppers. Vambran smiled to himself, wondering if those might have been the very same peppers he'd helped make their way across the Sea of Fallen Stars aboard Lady's Favor. Nimra and Mirolyn chose a small handful of the peppers and completed their purchase.
When they reached a corner next to a small kiosk selling hot tea, Vambran approached them. He stepped up next to the younger woman and spoke softly.
'Excuse me, but I would like to speak with you and your mother for a moment.'
Mirolyn turned to face the mercenary in surprise, but Nimra only cocked her head to one side and said, 'I wondered how much longer you were going to follow us before you showed your intentions.'
Vambran did a double take.
'You… you knew I was following you?' he asked.
'Certainly. Not too many big, strapping fellows in some sort of armor make a habit of strolling behind me at the same distance all morning long.'
Mirolyn looked from her mother to the man in front of her and shrugged.
'Nothing wrong with her hearing,' the girl said, a wan smile emerging briefly.
'I guess not,' Vambran said. 'I assure you, I have no malicious intentions, here. But I need to speak with you for a few moments, someplace where we won't be bothered. It concerns your other daughter, Jithelle.'
At the mention of their slain family member, both women's faces turned ashen, and Mirolyn closed her eyes, swallowing a sob.
Nimra turned her sightless eyes toward Vambran and said, 'Who are you, bringing pain to an old woman by speaking that name?'
Vambran swallowed and frowned. He knew it would be a difficult subject to bring up, but it was unavoidable.
'I'm sorry for your loss,' he said, 'and for reopening the wounds of her passing, but if you will give me a moment of your time you will see that-'
'I'm sorry, but we have nothing more to tell you, soldier,' Nimra interrupted. She took hold of Mirolyn's arm and began to tug her away. 'It was watchmen who killed her, and I will not help you besmirch her name further.'
Vambran shook his head, then remembered that Nimra couldn't see his gesture.
'I'm no watchman, milady, as your daughter will certainly testify. I am a soldier, true, but one who is trying to find the truth, not bury it.'
Nimra hesitated and turned back.
'What purpose do you have in tracking me down?' she asked.
Beside her, Mirolyn looked at Vambran with eyes already brimming with tears.
'I was witness to your daughter's death' Vambran said quietly, eliciting a gasp from both women. 'I don't believe the charges leveled against her, and I want to discover who would see her dead.'
'Why do you care what happened to a commoner?' Nimra questioned quietly, reaching a hand out to take one of Vambran's. 'Yes, I suspected as much. You may have the calluses of a swordsman, but you still have the voice and bearing of a wealthy man.'
'The gold in my family's vaults does not affect my desire to see justice,' Vambran replied. 'I cannot stand to see murder done, any more than you, though Jithelle was no one I know.' As he spoke the word 'murder,' the lieutenant saw both women flinch again. 'But we must not talk here,' he continued. 'It is not safe. Where can we go for a bit of quiet conversation?'
'The cheesemaker's on Slake Street,' Nimra said quickly. 'Mirolyn works there, and the proprietor will let us visit in his room upstairs. Do not follow us,' the woman added. 'Meet us there at the next bells.'
And with that, the two women turned away and crossed the square, continuing their shopping, though their pace was a bit quicker and more urgent to anyone who might have been watching. Vambran observed them both go, then turned and took a different route, weaving in and out of the crowds of people at the market. He headed surreptitiously toward Slake Street, approaching it finally from the opposite direction from the market, and when he ducked his head inside, found only a single customer being served.
The proprietor, Neely, if the name on the sign outside was accurate, gave Vambran an appraising look, then shrugged and finished filling his customer's order.
When the woman left with her block of cheese, the man turned to Vambran and asked, 'What can I serve you today, good sir?'
Vambran smiled and cast a quick glance around, then said, 'Nimra Skolotti sent me here. I am supposed to meet with her in a few moments, and we needed a private place to gather. She suggested that you might make your family room available for a few minutes.'
At the mention of the woman's name, Neely smiled, but the grin vanished again just as quickly.
'Is there a problem?' he asked. 'Mirolyn is a fine girl and a hard worker for me, and I would hate to see anything happen to either of them, especially after-'
'Nor would I,' Vambran interrupted, 'which is why I would ask you not mention what you were about to bring up, or me, to anyone else.'
The man gave Vambran a long, hard look before he finally nodded.
'You can wait upstairs in the parlor. Straight back there'-he jerked his head behind the counter and into the back room-'up the stairs, first doorway in the right-hand corner.'
Vambran thanked the man and slipped past the end of the counter and strode into the back part of the house. There, he found that the whole building was a large square, with a very small open courtyard in the middle. The courtyard was surrounded on all four sides by two stories of open balcony, literally covered with climbing plants and hanging baskets. In the middle of the courtyard was a single large rain barrel. One set of stairs rose up along the back wall, and Vambran made his way there, climbing them quickly. At the top, he went to the right, as the man had instructed, and found a small patio that opened back out onto the front, where the street was. He cast a quick glance down the lane in both directions, then retreated into the shade and settled into a wooden chair to wait.
The mercenary did not have to wait long. Shortly after nine bells, he heard voices emanating from below, in the courtyard, and slow, methodical footsteps on the stairs. Soon, Nimra's graying head appeared, accompanied by Mirolyn's, and the pair of women made their way into the little tiled parlor. Mirolyn helped her mother to a seat and settled her there before moving to a chair of her own.
Vambran simply sat and watched the blind woman for a moment, waiting to see her demeanor before he began to speak. He had no doubt that she knew he was there, for whether Neely the proprietor had informed her that he had preceded them or if she could merely hear him breathing, he was confident she was waiting for him to speak first.
'I know it must be hard for you, speaking of your daughter, but I'm trying to find out anything I can about her, anything that might clue me in as to who would want her dead.'
Nimra nodded and asked, 'Can you give me some idea of where to start?'
