The sky was overcast and the air was dry, even a day after Vaenuth had arrived back in Sheld. Tagg and she shared a small breakfast at the inn they were staying at, the Rogue River. It was a large building overlooking the cliffs and waterfalls of the river that rushed down from the Radregar highlands. They sat inside, and Vae watched subtle curtains of water droplets form on the glass window nearby and drip down to the window sill. It seemed like the only moisture she had seen outdoors in days.
As soon as they had eaten lunch, she led her whole group outside. The rumble of the waterfall echoed off of the stone dome a mile east of her—this was probably the noisiest place in the city. They walked south, toward the cliffs, and found a staircase down to the next layer of town, scattered with two-storey houses and shops. Vae was dressed in her blue vest and wore her nose ring, earrings, chain link, and a ring on her left hand. The people of Sheld were even more dissimilar to her than those of Numa’nakres. The women in the streets wore earrings, while a few men had simple arm tattoos. She saw one man with neck ink and his was simple compared to hers. She didn’t care about all the glances she got.
“This way,” Tagg said, when Vaenuth missed the next street. She followed him after that, instead of leading. Tagg wore his loose beige shirt; the ornate iron sword—“from a friend”—hung in its scabbard at his belt.
Pressip followed Vae, while Krebin and Arloe followed after that. There had still been no reappearance of Hulean after the events of Wartha Mull.
At the estate of Prince Lerran, the same guards stopped them. They were led once more into the dimly lit guardhouse to await the powers that be. The guards didn’t ask them questions this time, just sat them at a table to await the messenger sent into the property. A few moments later, a Captain of the Guard entered, a man with a handsome face and short brown hair. “I’m Captain Isar,” he told them. He waved them through. “Lerran will meet with you in his office. Follow me.”
The property was larger than Vaenuth originally thought. Ahead was the enormous mansion of Lerran’s Family. It was three stories tall, with balconies on the higher floors and a square roof guarded by ramparts and patrols. To her left, set apart from the other buildings by the cobblestone courtyard, was a large two-storey inn with a sloped roof. On her right: a stable, with a barracks behind it. On either corner adjacent to the manor proper rose orchard trees and gardens.
A few of the cobblestones were broken, while the front door of the mansion had clearly been replaced recently. Some sort of assault, perhaps? She followed Captain Isar through the foyer and up the staircase. “Your guards can wait in this hallway,” he told Vae as they entered the second storey corridor. “Lerran has agreed to meet with you in private.”
“Very well,” Vaenuth said. “Tagg.”
“We’ll come if you call,” Tagg said, quietly. He eyes the guard captain and gave him a smile. Even if Lerran had replaced the government of Sheld, he was still a criminal. All of these people were still criminals. But Vaenuth had killed men for them—was she any better?
“This way,” Captain Isar said, ignoring the passive aggressiveness of Vae’s guards. They stepped through a secretary’s office. The woman there gave Vaenuth a glance over and tried to contain a smile of amusement.
The next door admitted her to a large office. Well-organized cupboards and shelves surrounded three faces of the room, while large glass windows looked out onto the courtyard below. A massive red carpet softened the stone floor, patterned with criss-crossed swords. A enormous desk sat at the end of the room, where Lerran rose to his feet to regard her with a smirk. “Can I offer you a drink?” he asked.
“Whatever you’re drinking,” Vaenuth replied. She wasn’t a heavy drinker, but she would accept his offer out of etiquette. Here was not the sweating and cranky man she had met on the Barren Road near the village of Squora. This was the Prince of Sheld, at home in a luxurious office from where he controlled the Grey Sea and his corrupt city.
He poured them both a rum as Isar left, closing the door behind him. It was just the two of them. Through the nearby door behind the desk, she could see the corner of a four-poster bed—perhaps his own quarters?—though that room looked scantily furnished compared to the bustling office. Lerran reclaimed his seat across the desk, while Vaenuth sat at attention in one of the cushioned armchairs on the red carpet.
“How was your journey?” Lerran asked.
Vaenuth shrugged. “I’ve never travelled a harsher road, sir, and I’m an experienced traveller of the Expanse. Perhaps it is lack of proper preparation though.”
“Maybe,” Lerran said. He took a sip of his cup, and Vaenuth followed suit. “So, you have news?”
Vaenuth nodded. “Alrin Jorath and his father are dead.” She pulled out Alrin’s signet ring and set it on the desk. “There’s proof of Alrin’s death. Old Man Jorath died in an explosion, so I have no proof for him. Rumours will confirm it however.”
“Rumours I haven’t yet heard,” Lerran replied. “And a ring that could be stolen.”
“I did as you asked,” Vaenuth said, defensively. “I’ve stooped to the lowest I have before, for this deal.”
“I don’t doubt it,” Lerran replied with a reassuring hand raised. “I’ll hold up my end of the bargain, but I’d like to delay the deal a few days until I hear the confirmation you claim.”
If he crosses me… Vaenuth thought. “I can afford to stay a few days longer,” she admitted. “If that will seal the deal. I worry only for the security of my men, one of whom was spotted fleeing Wartha Mull.”
Lerran paused with his mug half-raised. “Stay at the Emerald Eye, then. It’s my inn, on my property. You and your men will be safe there. Just don’t start anything.”
“Of course not,” Vae said. If Lerran was planning to cross her, would he have offered the same hospitality? He seemed to trust her. “And thank you.”
“You’re welcome,” Lerran replied with a smile. He set his rum down on the table, and she followed suit.
She rejoined with Tagg and the others in the hall, and they sought out the Emerald Eye, the two storey building she had seen on the south side of the mansion. They were given one of the few inn rooms—the place seemed to be a drinking house before anything else. Vae spent a lot of time at the bar that evening, though she knew she wouldn’t be a guest in anyone’s bed that night. She never mixed passion and business.
Later, she saw Lerran himself come in for a drink with his men. Isar joined him, as well as another woman with straight brown hair and a sarcastic smile. Vae offered to buy Lerran’s drink for him when he came to the bar, but he only chuckled. The barkeep, as he poured the drink, said to Vae, “Prince Lerran doesn’t pay here. And now, neither do you.”