Dead Letter by Benjamin Descovich Page B

the grime of
a day’s running and the grease of Cook’s kitchen from his body. He
scrubbed his clothes in the sudsy water that remained, wrung them
out and hung them over a drying rack. After drying off with a small
cloth, he dabbed himself with scented oil of sandalwood and cloves.
From the same rack he donned the shirt and trousers he had washed
the day before and emerged from behind the curtain, hopeful that
the conversation would turn to less sensitive subjects.
    “ Would you like tea?” asked his mother, playing the hostess.
Tea was better than a spell of despondence.
    “ I would, but I’ll have it in my room. I want to get some
reading done before sleep takes me.”
    “ Such a scholar, isn’t he, Kleith?”
    “ A finer reader than most. How are you going with that onerous
tome? I found it too tiresome to absorb. I’ll leave the mechanics
of trade to the Merchant Guild. I’m better suited to more spiritual
prose.”
    “ I’m almost finished. It is a bit dry, but there are a good
number of case studies that support the work and his premise for
improved governance through public support is
refreshing.”
    “ I never got that far.”
    “ I stayed up a little late last night, since trade was slow at
the Cog and Wheel.”
    “ Would you make a summary for me?” asked the
Herder.
    “ I’m out of paper and haven’t had the shine to get any more,”
said Elrin, feeling ashamed he couldn’t help Kleith.
    “ Nonsense. Don’t you go and waste your hard earned shine on
that. I’ve plenty for you. I also have more errands for you
tomorrow. Come down before first bell and you can pick up what you
need for the summary.”
    “ I’m close to the end of the ink pot too,” admitted
Elrin.
    “ Whatever you need,” assured the Herder.
    “ That would be more than wonderful. I’ll have you a summary
before noon tomorrow.” Elrin gave Herder Kleith a formal bow fit to
his senior rank and gave his mother a goodnight kiss. Taking a
candle to flame, he retired to his room. It was the larder from the
original home, which had been split into four small apartments.
Elrin’s bed was a hammock, hooked between two beams. It made space
to write and read and he loved the gentle sway of the sling easing
him to sleep. He imagined that living on a riverboat would be a
wonderful life. His mother’s cot in the living room was shifted
near the hearth for winter and beside a window to catch the breeze
in the hot summer. She would sleep odd hours and the larger space
in the common room helped her imagine she had a decent sized
bedchamber. Though it was far from the luxury they once lived in
when she was with the Bards Guild, it was clean enough and safe
enough, and the rent was not as terrible as it was in some
quarters.
    Their
landlord was a good friend of Herder Kleith and sympathetic to his
family’s fall from grace. As such, he had also been accommodating
of Elrin’s occasional late payments. Things were easier when his
mother gave music lessons, but she cancelled them more often than
not when sadness gripped her.
    Elrin lit the lantern, strung out his hammock and climbed in,
grateful to be off his tired feet. With a sigh, he picked up Market Distemper: Its Cause and Cure and began reading where he had left off. This
didn’t take him long to finish. It was an important work. Quite
progressive, Elrin thought, though he hadn’t any reason to
second-guess the politics of Calimska. It wasn’t his place to
challenge the wise advisors of the city state, let alone vote for a
guild representative, or who should be the Guildmaster.
    Elrin
read into the night, buoyed by the tea his mother brought him. He
fell asleep only when done, holding the book with the satisfied
embrace of a scholar prince who had conquered a formidable
exposition.

 
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     

CHAPTER FIVE
    Break
and Enter
     
    In
her small private room on the upper floor of the Cog and Wheel,
Kettna fell into bed, cradelling her