Murder in Halruaa (4 page)

The nervous man chirped, “No, sir!”

“Do you possess skills in pickpocketing, lock opening, trap removal, camouflage, wall climbing, shadow hiding, or silent movement?” Pryce inwardly winced at mention of the second item, plus the last three. He began to work his mouth nervously, stretching his lips across his teeth, in preparation for the coming interview. This was not going to be easy… not with that big eye above them, watching for any sign of discomfort, and the golem below, waiting to act as official bouncer.

“No, sir, I assure you,” said the little man earnestly. “I only want to entertain, and I hope to find favor with the good people of Lallor.”

“How long do you intend to audition?” the clerk intoned, looking up from his parchment.

At this question, the man started to relax. “I think I would need only a fortnight permit, sir. By then I’m sure I could show my worth.”

“Fine,” said the clerk brusquely, seemingly no longer concerned with the man. He was now paying attention only to his parchment, where he was rapidly writing something, the quill pen jiggling busily. But just as the little man finally felt comfortable enough to breathe a sigh of relief and release a broad smile, the clerk looked up again suddenly and said, ‘Two men play five games of chance. Each man wins the same number of games, and there are no ties. How can this be?”

“Wha—what?” the surprised little man stammered.

‘Two men. Five games. Each wins. No ties. How?”

“I… but… how does this

“Come, come, sir,” the gatekeeper burbled reasonably. “Surely you didn’t think that desire was enough to secure entry to Lallor.

We are an exclusive community, sir. We must know that those who seek to entertain—especially those who seek to entertain— have their wits about them. Now, come along, please hurry. How can two men play five games with no ties and both win?”

“I’m sorry.” The little man was first confused, then desperate, then crestfallen. “I—I”

Pryce put a hand on his shoulder. “They weren’t playing each other,” he whispered.

“What?”

“The two men weren’t playing each other,” he repeated. “That’s the only way they could both win an equal number of games.”

Comprehension spread across the little man’s face. The reaction of the clerk, however, was not so beneficent. He struggled to his feet, both fists shaking on the floating marble slab. “I beg your pardon, sir!” he said angrily. “How dare you?”

Pryce knew he had to think and talk even faster now. If that golem was psychically attuned to the clerk’s emotions, his head was applesauce. There was only one thing to do: Distract attention from himself.

“I apologize, but it is imperative I speak to someone in authority. It is about my friend. Gamor Turkal____” To his amazement,

Pryce watched the clerk’s wrathful expression melt, then, even more incredibly, rise like a basset hound being offered prime steak. The clerk then repeated his previous admonition, but the tone this time was one of apology.

“Sir… I beg your pardon!”

“Yes, yes,” Pryce said humbly. “But my friend Gamor…” He started to point back down the road.

“Of course, sir!” the clerk interrupted, hurrying around the floating marble slab. “Gamor Turkal told us of your coming. We have been waiting for you!”

‘You have?”

“Of course,” the clerk said enthusiastically, raising an arm to

put over Pryce’s shoulders, then thinking better of it. “We’ve been awaiting your arrival for some time.”

Pryce blinked. His mind had been ready for a lot of things, but not this. “Really? Well, the storm slowed me down a bit, and then there were the dangers of the pass____”

“Oh, we knew you would make quick work of them,” the clerk said dismissively. “But come, come. You must be hungry and thirsty after your journey.” Only then did the clerk feel secure enough to take Pryce by the shoulders and lead him toward the open gate.

“But—but,” Pryce stammered, pointing back at the line of staring pilgrims, “shouldn’t I take the test?”

“Oh, pshaw,” the clerk said. “This test isn’t for you! Only you would think of having the humility to stand in line and take the entrance exam. Your kindness and consideration have not been exaggerated!” He drew Pryce under the gate’s eye, which followed his every move. Covington stared back at the thing, concerned that it might be looking down into his very soul.

“What a beautiful shade of blue,” he said with a toothy but mirthless grin, watching it. “No, green. Now brown!”

The clerk actually chuckled, his many sagging facial parts jiggling like coin sacks. “The Eye of the Inquisitrix,” he said cheerily. “No one enters, of course, without being recorded. Not even you!”

“Sound thinking,” Pryce said, managing to wrest his own eyes away from the ominous cyclopic orb above him. “Very wise.” Then he was inside the gate.

“Sir,” the clerk said demurely, “I can’t begin to tell you what an honor it is that I should be the one to welcome you to our humble city. And that I, Matthaunin Witterstaet, should be allowed to… well, sir, I don’t want to embarrass you, but I shall be telling my nieces and nephews that these hands actually touched…!” The old fellow couldn’t go on, which was just as well, because Pryce wasn’t listening to him. Instead, he was marveling at the exclusive “Jewel of Halruaa.” Whatever might happen to him from that moment on, he would never forget his first look at Lallor.

Both the city and the wall had been built very cunningly and very well. The wall encircled three quarters of the municipality and nestled on the highest elevation of the city. Beyond the wall, the city sloped lazily down to the shoreline of Lallor Bay. As Pryce had discovered earlier, only the very tops of the city’s highest castles could be seen from outside the wall. The slope also kept everyone who waited in line to take the entrance examination from seeing too much of the glory that was Lallor.

One glance told Covington that only Halruaa’s best and brightest would dare live amidst such splendor. He resisted the temptation to rub his eyes and tried to act as if he weren’t overwhelmed. The buildings were of various widths and sizes, but they all seemed to grow out from the lush green vegetation that surrounded them, interspersed with refreshing splashes of riotous color from rare pollandry plants.

Some buildings were classic mansions of tan and dark brown plaster, while others were extensive cottages of precious stone. All were veritable palaces of the most amazing design and construction. Others appeared like huge bulbs of both organic material and opaque glass. The bulbs were not only of many dusky colors but also of many shapes, some more pointed and some more round, but all large enough to comfortably house extended families.

Pryce’s head craned forward to look closer at the landscape. He thought he could see movement within these amazing walls, but it might have been a reflection from the clouds and the sparkling bay. Shaking his head in wonder, he looked over his shoulder to see the more familiar castles that befit the great wizards of any Halruan city. These low, wide constructions almost formed an inner wall of their own, which stretched from one end of the city wall to the other.

“I hope our unassuming little community doesn’t disappoint a

man of your travels and experiences,” the admission clerk intoned modestly.

Pryce turned on him with smiling insight. “Laying it on a bit thick, don’t you think… what did you say your name was again, my good man?”

The admission clerk’s jowls shook as he moved his head back in surprise, then widened as his smile of appreciation grew. “Matthaunin Witterstaet, at your service! And, if I may say so, sir, you are as perceptive as everyone has alleged.”

“Everyone?” But before Pryce could pursue the point further, an impressive woman marched purposefully up to stand before them. Her sudden appearance made Pryce aware that the splendid architecture had distracted him from the well-mannered, well-dressed people who went about their everyday business on the wide, well-maintained streets.

The woman stood about five feet, three inches tall—the top of her sandy-colored hair came to his sternum—and she must have weighed a hundred pounds soaking wet. When Pryce finished examining the small feet wedged into skintight boots, bandy but well-shaped legs in dark hide pants, small but powerful torso within the U-necked, blood-red tunic with the white-and-gold-dotted black epaulets, he concentrated on the face above the deep-purple cowled cape that swept off her shoulders and brushed the cobblestoned road at her feet.

Big, dark blue eyes, a snout of a nose, high, prominent cheekbones, and thin, thin, thin lips. Make that lip, singular, he thought. The top one was merely a straight gash a few centimeters above her sharp chin. Not to the least of Covington’s surprise, her sandy hair was pulled back in a tight, short pigtail.

“A hale and hearty morning to you, Greeter,” she said to the clerk in a not entirely pleasant reedy voice.

“And a hale and hearty morning to you, Inquisitrix,” he replied. He moved both arms toward Pryce, as if presenting him as a long-sought prize. “And this is—”

“You don’t have to tell me who this is!” she interrupted, smiling up at Pryce. He noticed that her incisors were a bit sharper than normal. “One look told me. I would not, could not, make a mistake about him!” She shot out a hand. “Berridge Lymwich, Mystran Inquisitrix of the first rank, at your service, sir. It’s a pleasure to finally meet you after all I’ve heard.”

He took her hand. It was cold and hard, her grip like a vise. Pryce winced and quickly pulled his hand free. “If your pleasure is as great as your strength,” he said, “then you must be delirious with joy.”

Lymwich’s chin went down, her mouth opened, and she blinked. Then she brayed a loud laugh. The clerk leaned toward her, a twinkle in his eye. “Is he not everything we’ve heard?”

She looked Pryce up and down appraisingly. “And more!” She put one foot behind the other and half-bowed, half-curtsied. ‘Truly, sir, a pleasure to meet you.”

‘Thank you,” Pryce replied, fluttering his own hand to make sure all the bones and knuckles were still in place. Then he shook a finger at her. “You Lallorians keep surprising me with your friendliness. I was told that I would be lucky to receive much more than an occasional glance, certainly nothing as familiar as a handshake.”

Lymwich allowed another laugh to escape with a bray, marveling at his amiable forthrightness. “Now, who told you that?” she asked with a certain familiarity. “Has Geerling been telling you tales?”

Pryce’s eyebrows raised. Geerling? Geerling who? Or what? But before he could inquire, the clerk leaned forward. “More likely Gamor Turkal,” he said with a smile that crinkled the flesh around his beady eyes and a nod that shook his several chins.

‘Turkal,” Lymwich sniffed with a certain distaste. “Hmph.” His former partner’s name certainly had changed the mood, but Pryce wasn’t surprised. Gamor often had that effect on people. He could kill a conversation at five yards. “But enough small talk,

Greeter,” the inquisitrix said briskly. “I believe you have more interlopers to test… ?”

“But, Mistress Lymwich,” Matthaunin protested, “it isn’t every day that—”

“Enough, Greeter,” the inquisitrix said curtly, making it plain that his personal time with Pryce was at an end. “Our illustrious visitor is here now, after much anticipation. We of the Mystran Inquisitorium can take it from here. There is no need to delay him, or yourself, any longer.”

The gatekeeper was visibly disappointed. “Yes, Inquisitrix. I understand.” Dejectedly he turned to go.

“How far can a canine run into a forest?” Pryce asked him in lieu of a good-bye.

“Wha-what?” Matthaunin stuttered, then brightened. “Oh… oh, I see. A riddle! A dog… the woods? Let’s see… Oh, dear, I should know this____Curses! All right, how far?”

“Halfway,” Pryce informed him with a grin.

“Half… ? Oh, of course! For the other half, it’s running out of the forest! Yes, yes, that’s good. I’ll use that____” And then, shaking his head and smiling, Matthaunin Witterstaet disappeared back out the gate to his parchment, golem, and refugees.

Pryce turned back to the inquisitrix, who was watching him with a strange expression on her face. “What is it?” he asked her directly.

‘You didn’t have to…” she began, then tried again. “Why did you… ?” And when that didn’t work either, she settled on a new observation. “You’re nothing like I expected, but somehow everything I expected.”

Pryce thought about chastising her for holding any preconceptions at all, but then he let the saner half of his head prevail. ‘What exactly did you expect?” he asked with a bemused smile.

His informality had the opposite effect of what he had intended. The inquisitrix cleared her throat and stood straight, her shoulders back. “Why, you, naturally, sir. I hope you will forgive

me. I’m forgetting my responsibility. Of course we saw you through the Eye of the Inquisitor, and I was sent to make sure you are settled in comfortably. Will you follow me, sir?”

She led him down the road into Lallor proper, and soon Pryce was torn between trying to figure out ways to elicit information from Lymwich about her relationship to Gamor and what, exactly, the late rascal had told everyone about him, and trying not to be overwhelmed by the seemingly endless delights of this small, luxurious city by the sea.

Things were not simply built here, but tastefully designed, from street curbs to seemingly insignificant window displays. Incredibly most of the items offered for sale were hardly ostentatious. Rather, they were artful, even elegant, in their simplicity. Everything was clean, but hardly sterile. Individual character shone from each dwelling or shop they passed. Colorful decorations caught his eye everywhere he looked.

The people they passed were far from effusive, but certainly not unfriendly. In their soft, tastefully flamboyant clothes and cloaks that swept the street, they looked discerningly from him to the inquisitrix, then nodded with something approaching approval. For all the tales he had heard of Lallorian paranoia about strangers, the only evidence he had seen so far was the stringent entrance exam. Perhaps that was all the wealthy, civilized residents needed to maintain control… that and the all-seeing eye at the main gate.