Even the inside of the duty coach was still freezing by the time I dropped off Seliora and Diestrya at NordEste Design, and I read the newsheets wearing gloves, awkward though it was.

Most of the articles were insignificant or what amounted to status reports, such as the uneasy situation between Ferrum and Jariola. One story was not. The Rovaria-a merchanter loading grain at Estisle-had caught fire and been totally gutted, sinking pierside. The fire had raged across the main cargo pier where it had been tied up, threatening several other vessels before it was put out. The story noted that the Rovaria had been bound for Jariola, but didn’t mention the ownership or registry of the vessel. There was also a brief story in Tableta about the cost of grain production on freeheld lands being cheaper because freeholders didn’t have the responsibilities to tenant farmers that High Holders did. Had High Holder Haebyn “encouraged” that story?

Matters didn’t get any better after I reached Third District. The ice-rain had resulted in several wagon accidents and two fires, most likely because people hadn’t had their chimneys cleaned since last winter, and the Fire Brigade hadn’t been able to save one of the houses. There were more smash-and-grabs because it was harder to chase the thieves. And, to add to my concerns, I got a communique from headquarters. I read it twice.

Patrol Captain Kharles was shot on Vendrei evening by unknown assailants. Their clothing was of the type worn by taudis-toughs known to frequent the taudis area known as the Hellhole. Because the captain suffered severe injuries, until further notice, Patrol Lieutenant Walthyr will be acting captain. In the event Captain Kharles cannot resume his duties, a review of all lieutenants will be conducted to determine his successor…

The communique was signed by Cydarth. The last words were a strong indication that Kharles was not likely to survive, and that, if he did, he would not be able to continue as District Six Captain. The wording also suggested that Walthyr would not succeed Kharles. That didn’t surprise me. Although I’d only met Walthyr a handful of times, he’d impressed me as a tough, no-nonsense, straight-talking, rough-edged patroller who’d come up the hard way. That meant that Artois wouldn’t want to deal with him and Cydarth couldn’t corrupt him.

I left the communique on Alsoran’s desk and pulled on my winter cloak and gloves. Much as I didn’t really want to walk a round, I needed to, both to get out of the station and to let the patrollers know that I wasn’t a fair-weather captain.

Just as I caught up with Kemantyl and Clursyn just east of the corner of Fuosta and Quierca, I got a glimpse of a taudis-kid running down the alley away from the three of us. To which taudischef was he reporting?

“Captain…” offered Kemantyl, the swarthy and squat senior patroller.

“Just keep walking and tell me what you’ve seen recently.”

“Yes, sir.” He glanced down the alley. “I can’t say as I know the taudis-kid, but he just watched us.”

“We’re in Horazt’s territory. He won’t do anything.”

They both shook their heads.

“He won’t, but…” offered Kemantyl.

“He’s got a problem,” I finished, “and that means one for us. Until he shows up, we’ll just follow your round.”

I started walking, and they stepped up, flanking me.

“Yes, sir.” Kemantyl coughed, then spat to the side. “Hate this weather. You remember Sostrys, the crazy tiler?”

“The one whose head got bashed?” As I recalled Sostrys, he’d been calm, but he was one of the few men in L’Excelsis who stood close to a head and a half taller than I did, and I was far from short. Sostrys also had shoulders to match his height. “Has he had one of those fits where he-”

“No, sir. He’s gone. No one’s seen him around here. But…my cousin Elhyr, he’s in Sixth District, and he thinks Sostrys went after the druggers.”

“The drug runners?”

“No, sir. The dealers in the Hellhole.”

“Why would he do that?”

“There was a girl…the one we found last Meredi…she was his niece.”

That meant she was either his daughter or his niece. “Elver?”

“Not that long. She wasn’t scrawny and yellow-gray when we brought in her body. Anyways…well…we heard about Captain Kharles…and there was trouble…and everyone knows how you feel about the dealers.”

“Do you know what happened?”

Kemantyl glanced around, then spat again. “Elhyr says…well…the word is that Sostrys killed one and banged up another one before they shot him and dumped his body in the east sewers.”

That was all I needed-elveweed dealers coming into Third District. My patrollers didn’t need to take them on as well, either. “I appreciate knowing that. I didn’t have anything to do with it, but things are getting hot with the dealers. Someone outside L’Excelsis is supplying them with the stronger weed, and it could be they’re getting more guns as well.” That was speculation on my part, but I had the strong feeling that was the way it was. “Just be careful when you see taudis-types you don’t know.”

“We’ve been thinking that way, sir,” added Clursyn.

Almost no one was outside in the ice-rain, but we covered three blocks, with me listening to their observations on what had been happening on their rounds, before I saw Horazt, standing under a narrow porch roof just outside the doorway of a house he frequented.

“Looks like someone’d like a word with you, sir.” Clursyn’s tone was deferential, but worried.

“I’ll have to see what he has to say.” I walked up to the small porch and out of the icy rain, if barely.

“Master Rhennthyl.”

“Horazt.”

“I’ve heard a few things.”

“Would they have anything to do with the elveweed dealers?”

“They might.” He paused. “How is Shault?”

“He’s doing well. I expect he’ll become an Imager Tertius before too long. He’s bright and talented. He is a bit stubborn.”

The taudischef nodded. “Sostrys…you know him?”

“The big crazy tiler?”

“He left. He won’t be coming back. Some others might be. Word is that some of your patrollers might be in for some long sleeps.”

“I heard Sostrys got pretty upset.”

“He did. Word is that he put a tiling trowel through Dimanche, the dealer in the Hellhole. That was after they shot him four times. Coddyl may never walk straight again, either. Won’t be able to sign his name, either. If he ever could.”

I’d never known the names of any dealers. No one had, so far as I knew. That Horazt was telling me…in that sense, I wished he weren’t. “Do you know when we might see visitors? I’ll be accompanying the patrols at night, and any word might be helpful…for both of us.”

“I’ll have my eyes and ears watch.” He paused, then flashed a brief smile. “But the druggers’ strong-arms don’t like ice-rain much.” He stepped back. “Thought you’d like to know.”

The door opened, and he slipped inside.

I walked back to the two patrollers.

My winter cloak was soaked through and coated in ice by the time I got back to the station. So was my visored cap, and my ears burned as they thawed out. Alsoran was waiting in his study, standing by his desk.

“Captain…”

“It’s worse than that.” I told him what I’d learned.

“When do you think?”

“That depends on the weather.”

“Why would anyone tell Horazt?”

“I’m sure the dealers didn’t. Probably one of the drug runners into Third District. They’d be afraid that they’d get swept up into the work houses. They’re so dependent on the weed that the withdrawal would kill them.”

“They’d just find others. That’s why we don’t try to throw them in the work houses now, unless they cause other trouble.”

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