noticed the quality of the buildings increasing. They were coming into a better neighborhood. She was not really concerned, but if anyone recognized her, they would have to flee.
The merchants paused at a street corner, and Dak signaled the others to wait. Lyrra-Sharron moved up beside him, taking his hand. She noted that he seemed almost to freeze up, for the briefest instant, but then was himself again. She decided it was probably her imagination.
The merchants went first. After counting silently to twelve, Dak and Lyrra-Sharron went forward. Counting to seven in her head, Lyrra-Sharron could hear bootsteps as Andim and Kallan came up as well. The others would all be separated as individuals, and a few minutes behind.
As they traveled down the street, a group of three deputy constables were at the corner, mounted. They were chatting quietly, all with identical grey jackets and breeches. Each had a sash across the left shoulder, two dark red and one blue, all with a silver five-pointed star, the device of the constabulary.
“This sword I began to fashion today was incredible,” Dak began as they were walking. “This is probably going to be the finest weapon I have ever crafted. I believe we already have a dozen buyers lined up, so the bidding should really elevate the price.”
Lyrra-Sharron nodded her head casually at Dak’s chatter, though she found it hard not to smile, as this was the most she had ever heard him speak. As they strode a few yards away from the constables, she identified two Second-Deputies and a Gara-North District First Deputy. They appeared to be paying no attention at all to the cloaked figures passing by, the hoods of their own dark grey cloaks pulled up.
If they did look, all they would note was a pair of merchants quietly heading home, and following them a couple, a craftsman and his lady, talking quietly. To the rear of them, a pair of men casually walking and joking around, probably father and son.
As they strode down several more blocks, they encountered only a couple more constables, and no soldiers or Guardsman. Finally, Kurr and Max entered a large house with a painted sign indicated Kurr’s business before it. Lyrra-Sharron and Dak walked around the block, then down the alley. The door was open, and light poured out. Checking first down one way, then the other, Dak and Lyrra-Sharron walked in.
Kurr and Max were hanging cloaks on pegs by the door, a large cooking fire roaring in the fireplace, warming the room. This time of year, the rain was cold, and chilled the air. Several pots hung over the fire, no doubt tea and coffee, and a small cauldron with a pleasant smelling vegetable stew. Dak and Lyrra-Sharron removed their cloaks, placing them on the pegs.
There were several others in the room around a table, two women, the merchants’ wives, and three other men. Their contacts in the city of Gara-Sharron.
“My lords. Thank you,” Lyrra-Sharron said, taking the seat offered her by Kurr. Max and Dak took seats as well, Kurr joining them. One of the women stood, getting a pot and pouring an herbal tea for everyone.
“I shall explain everything when the others arrive. How long till we have everyone here?”
Max checked the clock over the fireplace. Timepieces were expensive and rather rare things. Lyrra-Sharron had almost forgotten about them in her two years out in the country.
“A couple hours. The party was called for nine. We’ll even have our friends, the constables, outside guarding the place. Invitation only, you know. We’re known for throwing private parties, celebrating holidays, extremely good business, hangings, that sort of thing. We’ll have no trouble getting everything into place.”
A short, wiry man Lyrra-Sharron had not noticed before opened the door to the alley, and Andim and Kallan came in.
“That was easy enough,” said Kallan, smiling brightly has he removed his
The merchants paused at a street corner, and Dak signaled the others to wait. Lyrra-Sharron moved up beside him, taking his hand. She noted that he seemed almost to freeze up, for the briefest instant, but then was himself again. She decided it was probably her imagination.
The merchants went first. After counting silently to twelve, Dak and Lyrra-Sharron went forward. Counting to seven in her head, Lyrra-Sharron could hear bootsteps as Andim and Kallan came up as well. The others would all be separated as individuals, and a few minutes behind.
As they traveled down the street, a group of three deputy constables were at the corner, mounted. They were chatting quietly, all with identical grey jackets and breeches. Each had a sash across the left shoulder, two dark red and one blue, all with a silver five-pointed star, the device of the constabulary.
“This sword I began to fashion today was incredible,” Dak began as they were walking. “This is probably going to be the finest weapon I have ever crafted. I believe we already have a dozen buyers lined up, so the bidding should really elevate the price.”
Lyrra-Sharron nodded her head casually at Dak’s chatter, though she found it hard not to smile, as this was the most she had ever heard him speak. As they strode a few yards away from the constables, she identified two Second-Deputies and a Gara-North District First Deputy. They appeared to be paying no attention at all to the cloaked figures passing by, the hoods of their own dark grey cloaks pulled up.
If they did look, all they would note was a pair of merchants quietly heading home, and following them a couple, a craftsman and his lady, talking quietly. To the rear of them, a pair of men casually walking and joking around, probably father and son.
As they strode down several more blocks, they encountered only a couple more constables, and no soldiers or Guardsman. Finally, Kurr and Max entered a large house with a painted sign indicated Kurr’s business before it. Lyrra-Sharron and Dak walked around the block, then down the alley. The door was open, and light poured out. Checking first down one way, then the other, Dak and Lyrra-Sharron walked in.
Kurr and Max were hanging cloaks on pegs by the door, a large cooking fire roaring in the fireplace, warming the room. This time of year, the rain was cold, and chilled the air. Several pots hung over the fire, no doubt tea and coffee, and a small cauldron with a pleasant smelling vegetable stew. Dak and Lyrra-Sharron removed their cloaks, placing them on the pegs.
There were several others in the room around a table, two women, the merchants’ wives, and three other men. Their contacts in the city of Gara-Sharron.
“My lords. Thank you,” Lyrra-Sharron said, taking the seat offered her by Kurr. Max and Dak took seats as well, Kurr joining them. One of the women stood, getting a pot and pouring an herbal tea for everyone.
“I shall explain everything when the others arrive. How long till we have everyone here?”
Max checked the clock over the fireplace. Timepieces were expensive and rather rare things. Lyrra-Sharron had almost forgotten about them in her two years out in the country.
“A couple hours. The party was called for nine. We’ll even have our friends, the constables, outside guarding the place. Invitation only, you know. We’re known for throwing private parties, celebrating holidays, extremely good business, hangings, that sort of thing. We’ll have no trouble getting everything into place.”
A short, wiry man Lyrra-Sharron had not noticed before opened the door to the alley, and Andim and Kallan came in.
“That was easy enough,” said Kallan, smiling brightly has he removed his
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