Wartorn: Resurrection

But that killing might have just happened in the heat of the moment. Maybe the man was so desperate to avoid capture that he had been driven to commit the murder.

So, all they had for sure was a counterfeiting setup, with two operators. That didn't necessarily entail an uprising against the Felk. That meant two greedy, inventive men had dummied up batches of fake money. Frankly, Aquint admired the scheme.

As for those slashed circles, they could be anything. Maybe it was simple vandalism and nothing more.

Aquint and Cat returned to their rooms. It had been a long day of fruitless investigations. Aquint was too tired to even enjoy the luxuries of this apartment.

'Tell me, Cat,' he said, putting his feet up, 'if our mystery man has a forged civilian travel pass, does that mean he's originally from Callah, and meant to escape the city if things got too hot... or he came here, after the occupation by the Felk?'

'Why would he do that?' Cat asked from the soft chair where he had curled up.

'Well, we came back to Callah.'

'Right. But we're loyal, upstanding members of the Felk Empire,' the boy said archly. 'I don't know who this fellow is, but he's not Felk.'

Aquint nodded tiredly. This was too much like hard work.

Then a thought occurred to him. 'Who, exactly, would have a civilian travel pass? I mean legitimately.'

Cat was frowning. 'That's a good question. I guess people from the conquered city-states who are collaborating with the Felk. Maybe former government officials who now want to lend their expertise to the new regime. Maybe experts on farming or other civic industries. They might be allowed to travel relatively freely in Felk-occupied territory.'

Aquint turned to regard his young friend. 'You talk smart when you want to.'

'And only when I want.'

Aquint considered. 'No. I can't see this man being some consultant or...'

'What?' asked Cat, when Aquint trailed off.

Aquint slapped his hands together. 'That stringbox!'

'How's that?'

'They found it in his room. A stringbox. By the madness of the gods, how did we miss it?' Aquint grinned. 'He's a troubadour!'

'You're that sure?' Cat said.

'It fits. Name me any other category of person who has traditionally had such freedom of movement, even during wartime, as a wandering minstrel. Around these parts it's considered bad luck to turn one away. You'll get warts if you do.' Aquint laughed.

'Do you really think the Felk would honor that tradition?' Cat asked.

'Why not? We've been around enough of them. They're not all monsters. This man and his 'box probably passed right through a city border checkpoint.'

Cat frowned again. 'Meaning he already had a travel pass, right?'

'Right. But they confiscate those at the Registry whenever somebody arrives with one,' Aquint said. 'Then they issue a temporary resident permit.'

'How do you know that?'

Taking a haughty tone, Aquint said, 'Because, my j youthful associate, I've read up on the procedures.'

Cat gave him a grudging grin. 'Good for you.'

Aquint got to his feet, his fatigue forgotten. 'So, it's a j minstrel we're looking for.'

Cat stood as well. 'Do we tell the governor?'

'What's Jesile done for us lately? When I make my next report to Abraxis, I'd like to be able to say that we trapped this prey all by ourselves, beating the entire garrison of Callah to him. Maybe Abraxis might put me up for a promotion. Or, better yet, an increase in pay.'

AQUINT HAD MADE a couple reports already to Lord Abraxis since arriving in Callah. He spoke through a Far Speak mage attached to the garrison, updating the chief of Internal Security about events in the city.

Abraxis reasserted his claim that all he wanted were results. Aquint could have all the leeway he wanted as far as methods of operation were concerned.

'It's time to contact Tyber,' Aquint pronounced.

Cat nodded, and the two of them split up to locate Aquint's former illegitimate business partner. Aquint still hadn't visited his old warehouse, leery of the sorry sight of the place boarded up and defunct.

Vahnka, Tyber's Sook merchant cousin, had been another dependable partner in crime during Aquint's short stay there. Tyber himself had been a valuable asset in unloading smuggled black market items. Aquint had simply never understood why he should hand over good money for licenses and tariffs just because he wanted to move some merchandise.

In the streets of Callah, the Felk were still conducting their searches. Jesile appeared to have called in

more troops. One could taste the fear of the people on the cooling air. But Aquint, as he made his way unmolested, sensed something more.

Discontent. Resentment. Anger. These conquered people of Callah had, for the most part, submitted peacefully to this occupation. Now, because of one act of violent rebellion, the Felk were coming down on their heads, in a way that they hadn't since the city's conquest.

It was ironic that Jesile's effort to find one supposed rebel was probably fostering rebellious attitudes in hundreds if not thousands more of Callah's citizens.

Aquint doubted if this would end well.

Shortly before curfew, he heard someone softly whistling for his attention from an alleyway. Aquint had been making inquiries at a slew of taverns, looking for anybody who'd seen a minstrel. No one had.

He squinted at the alley in the gathering twilight. It was possible he'd had one too many drinks while trying to blend in with the patrons.

Cat let himself be seen at the mouth of the alley. 'Found him,' the boy said.

'Tyber?'

'Who else?' Cat sniffed the air, as if smelling the alcohol on Aquint's breath. As usual, the boy grimaced his disapproval. 'You up to paying him a visit?'

Aquint drew himself up with great dignity. 'When I can't do this job, I'll let you know.'

Off they went. Aquint was still wearing the sling on his left arm. It was annoying him now. On impulse, he tore it off.

'What about your disguise?' Cat asked as they moved through the backstreets.

'I won't need one with Tyber,' he said.

'Why not, because he'll still be loyal to you from the old days?' Cat sounded skeptical.

Aquint shook his head. 'Because that disguise wouldn't fool that ugly bleeder for a moment.'

They came around a corner. Aquint halted sharply. 'We're not going there!' he said, aghast.

Cat shrugged. 'That's where I've heard Tyber is holed up these days.'

Aquint had been avoiding it, and now here it was. His old warehouse. It was indeed sorry-looking. The place was nailed up like a poor man's coffin, with loose, careless boards.

'We can get in through the dock,' Cat pointed.

But Aquint didn't move. 'Why is Tyber here?'

'I heard he tried to bribe one of the garrison officers into letting him set up a contraband operation.'

Aquint blinked. 'I never read that in any of the Felk incident reports.'

'Jesile probably didn't want it in the record. From what I heard, the officer was going to go along with it, for a cut, of course. Then he got caught and tried to turn in Tyber. Since then, Tyber's gone to ground.'

Aquint nodded. Tyber, like himself, just wasn't cut out

for a legitimate business life. Felk or no Felk, men like Tyber and him had to pursue their own destinies, had to find an angle to work, had to cheat the system. They had to.

'Let's go,' Aquint said, and he and Cat crept toward the warehouse.