began hearing sounds of climbing approach. Serdra moved up significantly faster than her. Of course she did.
Serdra bounced nimbly over the railing and knelt by her student. They crept into the hallway and Katja closed the door behind them.
Asking about the insides of the council hall had been a simple matter. The state treasury was in the basement. The ground floor was mostly open to citizens who had business with the government and it housed facilities for minor officials, the headquarters of the city guard and the staff dining hall.
The second floor was more restricted and housed the government chambers as well as the chancellor’s office. The third one was mostly living quarters and the fourth held the state archives.
Aron Vogn’s chambers had been
on the third floor. They would need to get there, examine the place, decide and execute the next step and then exit as quietly as they had entered.
No lights burned here. Most of the security was on the ground floor, the general assumption being that ne’er-do-wells would be stopped before ever getting so high up.
Katja went to the stairs leading down and stopped there. A light could be glimpsed on the floor below. Katja looked at her mentor in search of some observation. She saw nothing on the darkened face and so made her way down the steps.
The only sounds were snores coming down one hallway and distant footsteps. They belonged to someone walking slowly and limply. A guard on a boring detail.
Katja signalled Serdra to hold. The footsteps approached and soon a man in a guard’s uniform was walking along the hallway. Katja retreated a bit further up into darkness, but the man just sighed and continued on to the second floor. Katja waited a bit and then signalled to continue.
She felt it as soon as she set foot on the floor. Something had happened here. Sorcery had left its rough, black mark on this place. She didn’t need to look over her shoulder at Serdra. The woman had probably sensed it before she had.
Katja made her way towards the source. The sixth sense made it easy.
The few lamps hanging on the walls illuminated tapestries not new or fancy enough to grace the two lower floors, but still prettier than most things Katja was used to.
It was strange to go through the most important place she had seen in this fashion. Like a common thief, but with a good purpose. Regardless, they would have to use violence if discovered. Serdra had stressed as much no few times.
Katja crept along a side way and walked a brief distance before arriving at a door. Here were Aron Vogn’s chambers. She grasped the handle softly and opened the door.
Here it was. This was the place. The feeling wasn’t very strong, but given the circumstances it could only mean one thing.
She walked to the centre of the floor and Serdra followed and closed the door.
In spite of the darkness the room was clearly quite nice, if a bit disorderly. Perhaps the man’s relatives had already come for his most notable possessions.
“Look,” Serdra said.
Katja sat on the floor and opened her perception.
This ability of hers was strange and often uncomfortable, terrifying and distracting. But it gave her a near-unique view of the world, it was useful and it was her most notable feature as a Redcloak. She had to learn to love it as much as she did the strain of the exercises.
Many things had transpired here. This building was almost as old as the city wall itself and this room had seen all sorts of events. Katja felt grief and for an instant saw relatives gathering belonging s . But the event that called to her, that drew attention like a flaming pyre, was two days old.
A serving girl entered with a broom. She was in her twenties, with pale brown hair, a slender body and a small face. She put the broom down and struggled to pull a chest in front of the door without noise. It would hold back people trying to get in and she could claim to have been sweeping the spot it stood on.
She knelt by the
Serdra bounced nimbly over the railing and knelt by her student. They crept into the hallway and Katja closed the door behind them.
Asking about the insides of the council hall had been a simple matter. The state treasury was in the basement. The ground floor was mostly open to citizens who had business with the government and it housed facilities for minor officials, the headquarters of the city guard and the staff dining hall.
The second floor was more restricted and housed the government chambers as well as the chancellor’s office. The third one was mostly living quarters and the fourth held the state archives.
Aron Vogn’s chambers had been
on the third floor. They would need to get there, examine the place, decide and execute the next step and then exit as quietly as they had entered.
No lights burned here. Most of the security was on the ground floor, the general assumption being that ne’er-do-wells would be stopped before ever getting so high up.
Katja went to the stairs leading down and stopped there. A light could be glimpsed on the floor below. Katja looked at her mentor in search of some observation. She saw nothing on the darkened face and so made her way down the steps.
The only sounds were snores coming down one hallway and distant footsteps. They belonged to someone walking slowly and limply. A guard on a boring detail.
Katja signalled Serdra to hold. The footsteps approached and soon a man in a guard’s uniform was walking along the hallway. Katja retreated a bit further up into darkness, but the man just sighed and continued on to the second floor. Katja waited a bit and then signalled to continue.
She felt it as soon as she set foot on the floor. Something had happened here. Sorcery had left its rough, black mark on this place. She didn’t need to look over her shoulder at Serdra. The woman had probably sensed it before she had.
Katja made her way towards the source. The sixth sense made it easy.
The few lamps hanging on the walls illuminated tapestries not new or fancy enough to grace the two lower floors, but still prettier than most things Katja was used to.
It was strange to go through the most important place she had seen in this fashion. Like a common thief, but with a good purpose. Regardless, they would have to use violence if discovered. Serdra had stressed as much no few times.
Katja crept along a side way and walked a brief distance before arriving at a door. Here were Aron Vogn’s chambers. She grasped the handle softly and opened the door.
Here it was. This was the place. The feeling wasn’t very strong, but given the circumstances it could only mean one thing.
She walked to the centre of the floor and Serdra followed and closed the door.
In spite of the darkness the room was clearly quite nice, if a bit disorderly. Perhaps the man’s relatives had already come for his most notable possessions.
“Look,” Serdra said.
Katja sat on the floor and opened her perception.
This ability of hers was strange and often uncomfortable, terrifying and distracting. But it gave her a near-unique view of the world, it was useful and it was her most notable feature as a Redcloak. She had to learn to love it as much as she did the strain of the exercises.
Many things had transpired here. This building was almost as old as the city wall itself and this room had seen all sorts of events. Katja felt grief and for an instant saw relatives gathering belonging s . But the event that called to her, that drew attention like a flaming pyre, was two days old.
A serving girl entered with a broom. She was in her twenties, with pale brown hair, a slender body and a small face. She put the broom down and struggled to pull a chest in front of the door without noise. It would hold back people trying to get in and she could claim to have been sweeping the spot it stood on.
She knelt by the
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