In Shade and Shadow

Wynn sighed. Aside from Imaret disobeying her employer, a young girl shouldn't be wandering about alone at night.

"Then I heard a scream," Imaret whispered. "I didn't know where it came from until I heard footsteps… in the side street down the way."

Imaret choked off, and Wynn put her hand gently on the girl's shoulder.

"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.