'I went to look… and saw them,' the girl whispered, 'but he was there… Master a'Seatt was already there.'
'That is quite enough!' Master Teagan sputtered. 'If Domin High-Tower wants any more morbid details, he can damn well—'
'Speak with me,' a deep voice cut in, 'after my investigation is complete.'
Wynn jerked upright.
Captain Rodian stood in the workroom's doorway, glaring at her.
How long had he been listening? He wasn't due at the shop until evening, as Master a'Seatt had requested. Rodian strode across the room, his swinging cloak dragging a few parchments from an unattended table.
'Mistress Hygeorht, is it?' he demanded. 'What are you doing here?'
In last night's fear and sorrow, she hadn't taken much note of him.
At first nothing about him stood out. Of medium height and build, he wore the typical garb of the Shyldfälches, but beneath his open cloak his red tabard was carefully pressed. His cropped hair was an almost colorless shade of dark blond, but the slightly darker close beard along his jawline was perfectly trimmed. His eyes struck her the most—large for the rest of his face and a light shade of blue.
Wynn swallowed and calmed herself. He would be just like Premin Sykion or Domin High-Tower—another obstacle to the truth.
'I'm asking after dead friends and our lost folio,' she answered. 'Is that against the law?'
'That depends upon circumstances… or any interference in my investigation.'
He glanced once at little Imaret, then turned his heated suspicion past Wynn to Master Teagan. The old scribe returned it in kind for another unwelcome outsider. The captain appeared to compose himself.
'Forgive the intrusion,' he said, but it hardly sounded apologetic. 'I've just come from the guild, though no one there seems able to tell me what was in the folio that Jeremy and Elias carried. Perhaps one of you can help.'
And his gaze settled back on Wynn.
Both Teagan and Imaret frowned in unison.
'Did the sages not explain about their script?' Teagan asked.
'No,' Rodian returned, but he never took his eyes off of Wynn.
Wynn grew nervous, then agitated, and then angry over being scrutinized. As usual she started babbling.
'Even if the scribes were allowed to speak of their work—which they are not—only a few have enough experience with our Begaine syllabary to read any of it. They are concerned only with aesthetics and precision of copying and are trained to carefully rescribe a draft. Only journeyors or higher among the guild are fluent in this writing system, which is more than some standardized set of letters.'
Master Teagan ignored her and spoke to Rodian. 'No work from the guild was delivered today. I didn't pay attention to pages scribed yesterday and have nothing to say regarding their content. By our contract with the guild, you'd better have a court order before you ask that again. I was under the impression that you would be visiting us this evening. We have work to do. Master a'Seatt should be present tonight for any sort of… interrogation.'
Rodian's eyes flicked only once to Teagan, with a mild twitch of annoyance.
Wynn knew he wouldn't likely question scribes right in front of her. So why had he come here unannounced?
The captain finally nodded to Teagan, but he settled a strong hand on Wynn's shoulder.
'Wynn Hygeorht… please come with me.'
Instead of waiting on her answer, he pushed her with slow, steady force toward the door to the front room. Wynn wished she had some way out of this place other than in the captain's company.
Imaret stood up, and her stool scraped sharply across the floor. The tears had already dried on her cheeks.
'She's only asking after friends,' the girl cried, and her small voice filled with hysterical anger. 'The sages are like a family! I only wish that I knew… that I could remember more, but when I saw Jeremy…'
Poor Imaret broke, and Wynn's guilt v hWynn's overwhelmed her. Her interest lay only in what had killed the messengers. She tried to turn back to the girl but couldn't get out of the captain's grip.
'If you think of anything else,' Wynn said to Imaret, 'will you send for me?'
'No,' Rodian ordered. 'She will send for me.'
He shoved the door open and propelled Wynn out. Once they passed through the counter's hatch and stepped outside, he took his hand away and pointed toward his horse down the street.
'Over there.'
Wynn followed beside the captain, noting the point of his sword's sheath trailing beneath his cloak's hem. Heading for Rodian's white mare, they passed the very side street leading to the alley of last night.
Wynn was lost in resentment when a skittering sound reached her ears, like the click of claws on cobblestones, and she turned her head.
At the side street's end something dark darted away into the alley.
Wynn slowed, almost turning aside, but then thought better of it. It was probably just a dog scavenging behind the shops. For some reason that brief glimpse wouldn't fade from her thoughts, though she hadn't seen it clearly.
Suddenly she missed Chap so much her chest ached.
'What's wrong?' the captain asked.
Wynn found him paused in the street, studying her again. She shook off the strange melancholy remembrance. Part of her wondered if Premin Sykion, High-Tower, and others weren't right about her. Was she losing her wits?
'Nothing,' she answered.
He rounded the horse, motioning Wynn to follow, and they stood out of the chill breeze between his white mount and a pottery shop.
'Do not interfere,' he began. 'Every question you ask may change an answer I seek later, when someone thinks they've already mentioned something of importance. I'll find who murdered your brethren, but only if I'm able to gain information untainted or second-guessed. Do you understand?'
She glanced down at the street stones, wondering if he would be of any use at all to her. At least he now spoke to her as an equal.
'Yes,' she answered.
'Last night, when you began searching the body… what were you looking for?'
The sudden question took her off-balance. She peered up, again trying to estimate his nature. If there was an undead in the city, she would need help when the time came to deal with it. At present she had no one except Domin il'Sänke.
In Rodian's cold blue eyes, meticulous appearance, and zeal for order, she saw a man determined to advance himself. He bore no title other than rank and had probably worked his way through the military by effort rather than favor. But he might still tell the royals and their officials exactly what they wanted to hear. How would he react if she told him an undead had attacked Jeremy and Elias, drained the life from them, and taken a folio for some purpose of its own?
'I was simply shocked by their condition,' she half lied. 'Your lieutenant didn't warn us.'
'You were looking for wounds,' he said flatly.
'And you didn't? With their faces so twisted, skin paled too quickly… yet they bore no wounds, did they?'
His jaw didn't even twitch at her challenge, so she knew he had checked the bodies. But he also said nothing at her insinuation concerning the mysterious way they'd died. No, she couldn't look to this captain for any help.
'So, have you been sworn to secrecy as well,' he began suddenly, 'concerning this project of your guild?'
Wynn sighed. 'I am only a journeyor. I have no part in the translation project.'
'Even if you did know, would you tell me?'
