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"I'm from the guild…," she began weakly.
He raised one eyebrow, as if to say, Obviously.
"I need to speak with someone… a scribe," she added. "A girl with dark brown hair, slightly frizzed and curled and—"
"Imaret?"
Wy
"Come," he said, and opened the other door behind the counter. "I'm Master Teagan. Imaret is working in back."
Wy
Master Teagan must have assumed Wy
The scriptorium's rear was quite different from the front. The large back room was filled with tables and desks, chairs and tall stools. Bright lanterns stationed about the room provided ample light as scribes worked upon sheets amid scattered quills, blotting pads, and trimming knives. Shelves lined the back wall around the stout rear door with its iron bar. These were filled to the top with stacks of blank parchment, bottles of ink, jars of drying talc and sand, and other sundry supplies.
Only a few scribes sat at work, and Imaret was easy to pick out.
She sat at the room's far corner behind a short table suitable to her stature. That by itself showed she was an exception here, aside from her surprising age. What professional scriptorium would have such a young girl working as a scribe?
But Imaret wasn't scribing anything.
The bell over the door in the front room tinkled.
Imaret lowered her voice. "He asked them to verify the folio's delivery, but after they'd been gone a short while he seemed… bothered. He kept pacing, and…"
Wy
"He kept looking at the back door, but he never opened it. Then he just stopped suddenly and stared at the wall."
Imaret's gaze shifted, and Wy
"Then he grabbed his cloak and told me not to leave the shop." Imaret trembled slightly. "He rushed out the back… and didn't even stop to lock the door."
"What's this all about?" Master Teagan sputtered.
Wy
"Two of our people are dead, and the folio in their charge is missing. Domin High-Tower wishes to know the events beforehand."
"Then why didn't he come himself?"
"We are in mourning, and he has greater matters to attend. I'm Journeyor Wy
Teagan blinked, his pupils exaggerated by his thick-lensed glasses. And Wy
Perhaps he knew she was the one responsible for the current wealth of scribe's work—and good payment. Domin High-Tower and Premin Sykion had warned her against speaking to anyone concerning what she'd brought back. But of course there were many at the guild who already knew she was the one who had caused so much «fuss» for the last half year.
Teagan's scraggly eyebrows wrinkled, but he finally grumbled off to check on the other scribes. Wy
"So… Master a'Seatt became worried about the length of their absence and went after them?"
"Yes," Imaret said, her eyes growing distant. "I knew Jeremy and Elias had plans to meet up with… other friends. I thought they might deliver the folio and ignore Master a'Seatt's request for confirmation, so I decided to go after them. And I left the shop."
Wy
"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 Wy
"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."
Wy
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.
Wy
"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 Wy
"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 Wy
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 Wy
Wy
"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 a
Wy
The captain finally nodded to Teagan, but he settled a strong hand on Wy
"Wy
Instead of waiting on her answer, he pushed her with slow, steady force toward the door to the front room. Wy
Imaret stood up, and her stool scraped sharply across the floor. The tears had already dried on her cheeks.